Varkon Bel's page

Irritating indeed. Black-robed figure backlit in red? What a show. Still... I did want a challenge. Should not complain when given what I ask for. His mouth twisted in a half smirk before he gave a curt bow of his head at the Jedi Master and turned to follow the others out of the chamber.

"They are aptly named, then." The words had a touch of humor, an off-handed remark on the padawan's mutterings. In his head, he was going through equipment lists, setting down indispensable items for the journey.

Very sorry for the delay. The last days were draining.

Master Quel'Jang's hesitation over the girl's task in the upcoming mission did not escape Varkon. He chose to file that for later, though, since they had more pressing matters at hand. Assigning a padawan to supervise the team could mean one of two things: either it was that menial, which was unlikely with the possibility of Sith influence, or the Jedi Master thought Crys was a capable individual. Whether he actually was able to lead a team would remain to be seen, but the arkanian was hopeful.

After the others' questions, he added, "What kind of Sith influence?" Military? Philosophical? Political? That specific information could weigh heavily on their approach to the situation.

The ship seemed pleasing enough. Lambda-class shuttles weren't known for their speed in normal space, but the artillery--especially with the added dual-laser turrets--should make up for it if the situation called for such. Hopefully, it wouldn't, but it was always better safe than sorry.

He knew what to expect from Laaca. From the other two, he'd have to wait and see. They couldn't be completely useless, if they had been assigned a mission. It might be something menial, but Varkon could do menial, as long as the pay was good.

A white eyebrow rose at the girl's excitement--just like that, she was filed away from 'woman' to 'girl'. He would certainly not race ya with someone that thought "stuffy old coot" was an apt descriptor.

Instead, Varkon turned toward the duro, quizzical expression turning to genial mischief in the wrinkles around his eyes as he offered her his arm. "Shall we go, my lady?"

There was one in the cantina not bothered by the environment outside. Arkanians were used to enclosed cities amidst the tundra, and the frozen landscape of Pinnacle beyond the station's bulkheads was almost familiar. New year, similar sights.

That included the female duro by the bulkhead. From the bar, the white-haired male looked idly at the patrons, then caught sight of the human going to the bar, returning and addressing her. The station was not so large that they had not run into other a few times during their stay there, and Laaca... suffice to say, she was nice enough for him to enjoy her company once in a while, which was more than could be said for a good share of the current Pillar occupants.

Downing what remained of his cold drink, the lean arkanian rose to his feet and crossed the room to the pair by the duraplast. To the human he gave the briefest of nods, before turning his white eyes to the duro.

"Making friends or giving a lecture, Laaca?"