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alana bloom

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Cassian's on a sofa with a view of the Bar and he's doing some work but he keeps looking up at the television. In his various travels, he's seen some odd holovids but nothing like what's showing now.

It seems to involve a species that's not Nautolan but tentacled and truly involved. He keeps leaning forward to try and make sense of the plot then back as he has research to do.

Tiny tag: Cassian Andor

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A woman wearing a dahlia-patterned blouse and a killer pair of boots smiles at him, clutching a latte. "The show's called Tentacles of our Waves. I've never been able to make needs or tails of it," she says, offering a hand. "Hi, I'm Alana Bloom."

When she approaches, he sits back, tucking his datapad into his jacket before shaking her hand, there are callouses from blasters and the small marks that comes from being his own mechanic on his hands,

"Cassian Andor. Do you know what species they are? I keep going through the ocean ones I know and none of them look like that."

Alana withdraws her hand. Hers is smooth and delicate, with the only callouses being from pens. "A pleasure, Cassian. Those are squid, from Earth. There's a giant one in the lake outside. I'm assuming you're not from the planet?"

"Earth, that would make sense. Most things here seem to come back around to Earth. No, I'm from the Galactic Empire and currently in the Mid-Rim,"

She seems like someone who would fit on Coruscant and clearly comfortable enough here to approach strangers and feel safe.

"Galactic Empire?" Alana says, raising her brows. "Implying you have space travel? Fascinating. Can you travel faster than light?"

"Yes, I'm a pilot and we have hyperdrive and the hyperspace lanes can get busy close to the Core. Does your Earth not?"

Some Earths must have space travel.

"A pilot," Alana says, easing into a smile. "Oh, wow. Well, no, our Earth doesn't have hyperspace lanes or hyperdrives. We can only go to our Moon, and haven't had a space flight in many, many years, besides. The space program is woefully underfunded."

"I'm not a starfighter pilot, just a pilot. Why not?"

He's known planets without a lot of space travel but they're usually on the edges and not doing well. She doesn't look like she's from some place like that.

"What's the difference between a starfighter pilot and a regular one?" Alana says, blinking at him. "And space travel isn't a priority for my country, the United States, because our leaders tend to prioritize concerns like the defense budget. It's unfortunate, in my opinion, but what can you do aside from vote?"

"Starfighter pilots are the best, they can make an X-Wing turn and shift and its all about speed and dogfights. Its another kind of flying, I can get my ship in and out of most atmospheres without any problems but not like they do," The idea of defense makes sense, that's how the Empire turned everything and there's some bitterness in his voice, "Voting is good if it makes a difference."

Alana blinks again, this time at the bitterness. "I take it you're not fond of the way your Empire runs things?"

"They like knowing what everyone's doing, but I know how to deal with their rules,"

Here this kind of complaining against the Empire is safe, other pilots have said it at home. Its a useful bit of truth that he can use.

"I see," Alana says, with a minute shake of her head. "That must play havoc with privacy concerns. How long have you been under the boot of the Empire, so to speak?"

That's an apt phrase and he picks up the mug of caf he has to help school his face to be serious but not showing too much,

"About thirteen years, after the end of the Clone Wars."

"Clone Wars?" Alana says, and sips from her own latte, which his caf reminds her of. "I assume there's a resistance? There always seems to be at least one when there's a giant Empire."

"Yes, a Confederacy of systems pulled away from the Republic but ended up losing. There is but its small and scattered, the Empire's retribution tends to be hard to forget,"

His hand slightly trembles and he shifts his other hand to cover it, he's better.

The hand tremble doesn't go unnoticed. It would have, had he not tried to cover it up. Alana's heart goes out to him. "Are you all right?"

"Yes, nothing to worry about," They're not coming often but he needs to hide it or else this will happen.

He can't risk drawing attention on a mission, "What's your Earth like?"

Alana recognizes a subject change when she hears one. "You're going to have to be a little more specific," she says, smiling again. "It's very crowded, with over seven billion people, mostly concentrated in the cities. We don't have space travel, as I said, and humans are the only sentient species."

"Then the place that you're from. I travel a lot and everyone seems to have their favorite cantina or spot on their planet,"

Asking about someone's home tends to be a reliable conversation change, not his smoothest but it'll do.

"Cantina?" Alana says, tilting her head at the unfamiliar word. "I'm from Baltimore, in the U.S., and I guess one of my favorite spots is The Brewer's Art. They've got a cavernous basement that's perfect for a quiet conversation. What about you? In all the places you've traveled, what's your favorite spot?"

"Like this though this is a better class of cantina," He turns his caf while he thinks, "I don't remember the exact name of the moon but it had wonderful lakes and it was where I learned to fly. It was on the border of the Mid and Outer Rim."

"That sounds beautiful," Alana says, her smile warm and gentle, and tinted with longing. "You mentioned the Core earlier. Is that where the Empire is?"

"It was. The Core's where Coruscant and the Imperial Senate is, but the Empire stretches out to the Outer Rim,"

Learning how to fly gave him another measure of control over his life and made him more useful to the Rebellion.

"So it's truly Galactic," Alana says, nodding thoughtfully. "It makes sense there'd be an Imperial Senate, but do they actually have that much power?"