darth malgus & kilran appreciation society

The outpost was quiet this time of evening; the sun had already begun to set, and most of the soldiers and workers had filed off to attend their duties (or whatever it was that the Republic did on Voss, Roy was never entirely sure). He hadn’t planned on spending the evening in the outpost – he’d hoped to be back in Voss-Ka by now, getting drunk in that sorry excuse for a cantina, but the job he'd taken with Sinnan had taken longer than expected and the last transport for a few hours had already left.

Instead Roy sat hunched forward on a plain metal crate, absentmindedly rolling a pant leg up to inspect a scrape he'd received dodging some Gormak's blow. At least Voss had nice weather; his jacket afforded him just the right level of comfort, and there was something crisp about the outdoor Voss air, Roy would even venture so far as to say it was refreshing.

“Looks like we’ll be here for a bit,” the man glanced at Sinnan and smirked before dropping his gaze, “least you're stuck with my pleasant company.”

Hoth's shuttle bays never really kept out the cold. Zemire was fine in his temperature-regulated military armor, but he wasn't so sure that Sinnan was faring any better. They sat a little apart from each other on a rickety metal bench awaiting the shuttle. Ciely and Stahnis were supposed to meet them for separate reasons; it just so happened that they planned to gather in the same outpost.

No one else loitered in the waiting room. Most of the people in the outpost were soldiers stationed on Hoth, and they were busy with their own tasks, leaving the two Mirialans alone. A tense silence had reigned between them for the past ten minutes that has grown more and more obvious as time passed.

Zemire had finally had enough of it. Without looking at Sinnan, he said evenly, "So Ciely is your little sister?"

( shooting the shit )