InsaneJournal

After leaving her and Harley's quarters, Lomea swung by the galley and lounge, thinking food and drink might do Elsa some good. It was strange, not wearing her robes. But they felt... formal. Like they belonged in another place and another time. One of the crew had helped her select a new wardrobe. They'd been very helpful and really knew their dresses. She wished she could figure out what species they'd been.

Though this was still Lomea, and even a casual dress was a little more formal than most. Her titles might be meaningless here, but they still meant something to her. Darth Imperius wasn't dead yet.

She pressed the chime on the door, and idly spun a bottle in the air, watching the liquid slosh around.