Three's a Crowd

Caamasi Gardens -- New Alderaan: Ord Mantell

''Named after a species known for being artistic, wise, and open-minded, the Caamasi Gardens house the majority of New Alderaan's citizens. A gradual uphill slope extends northward from the city's central Chianar Plaza, where tall, white buildings are built into the smooth, yellow soil. These towering buildings are peppered with many balconies, hanging gardens, and hoverlawns, connected by stone and transparisteel skywalks. The Skyline Transit maglev system winds its way through these structures, offering many stations and splitting into multiple railways.''

''Further north, the uphill slope connects with a rim of tall, rolling hills that surround much of New Alderaan. Here, the buildings grow shorter in height, and are often built directly into the hillsides themselves. Most of New Alderaan's more wealthy citizens call this hilly region their home, and many of the structures are stand-alone houses, mansions and estates, blocked off by privacy fencing of all types.''

''The sky is a dark with thick, purple clouds. A gentle breeze blows them across the skyline at a moderate pace.''

Starting an incredibly new chapter in life calls for a new residence, away from the sheltering, suffocating wings of NRI. After Liora's 'official' card of citizenship, marking her as civilian, was secured, Ambrosia filed her 'request', informing the appropriate authorities of her change of address. She'd wasted no time in putting the moving crew to work packing up the few personal belongings acquired since their arrival on Ord.

Didn't take but an afternoon to finish the job and deposit the boxes inside a new threshold. Which is fortunate, because for the duration of the process, the ambassador looked as though she /really/ was in need of a place to crash and nap. Somebody didn't sleep last night. Gabi also could use a nap, but moreso to alleviate her grumpy skulking about the premises.

Since formal 'release', things have been...tense. There's an elephant in the room that nobody's been in a hurry to address, though Liora didn't board the first transport off-world, which of itself speaks volumes. None the less, the process of moving has been rather quiet and young Kovani can occassionally be caught giving any unfamiliar face the evil-eye. To her, this is occupied enemy territory. 'Republic Intelligence' is a less ominious phrase than 'Imperial Security' but how different can spies be? Even Gabi recieves a little bit of a cold shoulder as Liora helps move boxes for want of something to do.

Oh, one elephant's been addressed, at least. The first chat - and so far the only one on the subject - was shared between mother and youngest daughter the night she heard Drax had been to see Kovani. For the next thirty-six hours, Gabi hadn't said much to either female in her life, but had to offer at least a small apology to her mother - and classmates, fellow student, and his senator daddy - when she punched the poor boy in the face yesterday. Word spreads quickly on the rumor mill through adolescent lips and it seems someone's parents had an opinion, which passed through their son's mouth, seconds before it was shoved back whence it came. Hence the sulking. And Ambrosia's hangover.

There's more on the mind of the now irreputable politician than family matters, however, as she watches the moves with no small degree of suspicion. As soon as the last box is dropped, she pays and shows them the door. "Thank you for your service, but we can manage from here. Electronics aren't beyond me." A painted smile.

Kovani grants a non-verbal sense of approval as Ambrosia sees the movers out before they can get to tampering with the appliances. No guarentee the /walls/ aren't wired already but...she pushes that thought down. Nothing to be gained from it, if they're going to spy they're going to spy. 'If you've nothing to hide...' the favourite phrase of Imperial intelligence services, and the subject of countless COMPNOR sponsored PSA's. She sets down the last of the smaller boxes on a small table, her own meagre possessions and lets out a rather too loud sigh as she turns to gaze out of the high-rise's window.

"Its a nice view..." an attempt at small talk.

"Just stupid flowers that are already half dead," Gabi contests, dragging her own box through the half-moon living space and out of sight into one of the two short hallways towards the two small bedrooms, joined by a fresher.

Ambrosia's sigh, a quieter one, punctuates the movers' final exit. She then digs into an 'office' box and removes a little, palm-sized device. "It IS a nice view," she ignores Gabi's mood and paces from the weird living room into the other half of that circular space, through an archway into the cooking/dining zone. She starts to wave the device in slow sweeps around any source of illumination, appliance, or builtin shelving. Her bloodshot eyes search for any signs of fresh, periwinkle paint as she goes. "Used to come here for lunch to the Starlight...figured I may as well rent a space sometime, try it out. I'm sorry about the close living quarters, but it's at least more privacy than you've 'enjoyed' previously, here. Can't say I know how it compares to enlisted bunkrooms."

"Oh, I had a private cabin..." for a moment, Liora forgets herself. The idle conversation doing its work. "Officer perks. Small. Bunk, closet, desk. But...mine." there's an ambivolent half-smile that's forced to remain longer than it is entirely genuine. "...so, Gabi punched a senator's kid, huh?" she asks of their mother while the other woman scans for bugs. "She do much damage?"

So far, the scanner's not flagged anything questionable. Leaving the kitchen behind, Ambrosia halfhazaradly sweeps the box piles. "To the kid? No. I mean, he's probably sporting a matched set of black eyes today, but his little nose remains as it was, destined to stick up forever." She pauses to roll out a crick in her neck. There's a small bruise there, under the right side of her chin. "Put a little ding in my network of friendlies, though. Still...wish I'd been there to see it."

A shameless grin works its way out and she resumes the bug sweep.

Bruises are for troopers. Not diplomats, and rumors of strange going-ons at the military base were easily overhead. Kovani's eyes narrow as she cranes her neck rather less than subtlty for a better view of the darkening welt and setting her single, sad little box aside she nods toward the mark. "Where'd you get that?"

"Get what?" Ambrosia answers dumbly, keeping her tired eyes focused on her work. One box beeps. Despite having gone through the underground trouble of obtaining a scanner, the resulting expression on Delgard's face suggests she didn't actually expect to find anything.

"Dung munchers," she grumbles and starts rifling through. Knick knacks, cutlery...caf machine. Surely not?

*Beep* goes the caf machine.

"You've got to be kidding me." Folding herself into a comfortable sit on the floor, Ambrosia sets to work dismantling the cheaply made appliance.

"The brui..." Kovani's own expression is like a mirror of Ambrosia's, with a little extra disdain on top. She moves toward the device, joining her technically inclined mother to watch from above as she starts pulling things apart. "...well, I feel bathed in the warm glow of trust and reconciliation." she half-snorts.

"This wasn't meant for you, I don't think," Ambrosia speculates, however reassuring or not it may be. "I'll admit, I'm a little impressed." The upper half of the brewing mechanism pops off beneath some apparently convincing twists and thumps from her wrist. Out spills the simple contents, and one thing does not blend in with the other miscellaneous bits. Flicking aside a tiny power cell, she plucks a spherical object the size of a marble from the mix. It has an 'eye'. The scanner confirms.

"Well, I hope you're okay with mulling tea, because this has become a piece of worthless countertop decor. Think the vocabulator knock-off in that Thel doll still works. We'll see how they like the sound of it. Later. Dunno where my tool kit is."

Liora pans around her feet and finding nothing better, settles down upon the carpet with Ambrosia. Her joints are rather less troublesome, so adopting a cross legged position comes easily. She still has a preference for minimalist fashions - leggings in long boots, a waist-belted sweater with long sleeves and a high neck. As if someone'd rendered an Imperial naval uniform in black cotton/lycra blend. "Won't they just sneak in and replace it? she enquires, picking at the treads of her footwear for want of something to do with her hands. Lower, "...how's she taking things?" a flick of eyes toward the coridoor down which Gabi'd disappeared.

"They might," Ambrosia shrugs. "It'd be a fruitless endeavor though, so joke's on them." Sweeping up the pieces between her palms and dumping them into the mechanical cavity, she dumps the machine unceremoniously back into the box and picks the scanner up.

"I think little Lance suffered the brunt of her frustrations for all of us, but it seems to be extinguishing more each day. A lot to take in for a kid, but not quite the upheaval you faced. Face." Mouth drawn into a taut, solemn line, she turns her attention to scanning the furniture. "Ten cred says I find one in the bed later," then, on a more sincere note, "How are /you/ adjusting? Haven't enjoyed your company long enough to get a read on what's really going on in that head of yours. Worry I've lost my edge, you know? Almost miss having a 'pet' Jedi around to spoon feed me character judgements. Not that it ever applied to personal matters, but..." and she stops herself there, recognizing word vomit for what it is, especially when it's spewing from her own mouth.

"Jedi..." that seems to be a sore point with the young woman, her knuckles whitening at the repetition of the word. "They wouldn't let me go until one got inside my head." the exposed skin on her neck visibly bristles, tiny pimples rising at the base of each fine vellus hair as her skin crawls at the memory of it. "...rather you just /ask/. And keep /them/ far away from me."

She's quiet for a moment. "Sorry."

"Don't whine to me about people, or things, in your head," Ambrosia growls softly, keeping her voice down with a very mommish glare over her shoulder. "I know it isn't fair. We just had to be sure. /They/ had to be sure. And believe me, it's a smoother ride than truth serum."

Distancing herself a few meters to do a sweep of Kovani's box, a bit more thoroughly than the others - just in case - Ambrosia lowers her hackles and continues in a gentler tone. "I'm sorry it took so long to clear you. Frankly, if you hadn't been employed in a 'reputable' medical profession, it might have been more difficult. Agent Rendolen had good things to say in his report, so I heard. It won't be that rough again, just a few knocks on the door here and there for a little while. The hardest transition is in here," tapping on her own chest and then pointing to Liora. "You've got to reinvent a little, but you'll be okay."

"I hate violet!" Gabi announces from her end of the house, on a whim. The critique of the wall color is /very/ specific and genuine. Violet, not purple.

Like mother, like daughter. The growling just puts Liora's back up. "/I/ didn't put anything in your head but your teeth..." she snaps, though keeps her mother's register. A hard glare directed at the empty hands in her lap leaves space for Gabi's complaint. Pushing herself back up to her feet, she casts an eye around. "Think I need some air."

"Don't we all," Ambrosia groans, leaving the scanner to rest on the table and leaning around the corner of the hall to bark a scolding down its length to Gabi. "You're damn lucky to be sleeping here tonight and not a juvenile lockup, young lady!" Not entirely true, as school yard scuffles aren't really much to bat a lash at. But still.

"....And so am I." The last few words are muttered under breath and she gestures to Gabi's end of things. "I guess she's left you the yellow room, which is a big gesture on her part. You're free to...do whatever. I'll be here. Tomorrow, I'll be arranging for some 'air' and scheduling a transport to Corellia for the three of us, if you want to come. We have yet to pay my mother a visit since being sprung from hell, and her caretaker is very diligent in reminding me of this. It's a house. On the beach. Doesn't get fresher than that."

Why must awkward family moments be so awkward? Having threaded her fingers through her hair and interlocking them there, she stares at Kovani through a self-induced head lock of sorts, stretching her neck to one side. Expression reads: Defeated.

What goes through an orphan's mind? For some, in childish fantasies, there're long-lost parents rent away by fate who will one day come to rescue them from their wretched lot in life. For the more jaded, there're people who didn't want them. Rejected and unwanted, they reject these unknown figures right back, set their shoulders with the world and resolve to forge on without them. Whichever group Liora falls under, the current situation can only have turned it on its head and something is said, or done, or not done, that sours her in this moment.

"Yeah..." she remarks, non-committally. The very picture of teenage passive-aggression. "...sure, whatever I want." she starts for the door.

"I'm trying, Liora," Ambrosia calls after, not making a move to stop her departure. Instead, she picks the scanner up again. "Clearly, I'm not a perfect homemaker or human being. I teach my kid to shoot, I enjoy a solid adult beverage now and again, and I've had questionable taste in men. I burn fish dinners, I can't sew worth a damn, but I am a mother who protects her own, and I'm trying."

She makes a shuffling escape down the other hallway, towards her own suite in sock feet, scanning the wall as she goes. "Please, just afford me an ounce of patience. Also, don't forget to take a key."