Mallory San Marca was on the hunt. Not the kind of hunt that most would embark on however. She did not seek a bounty. She was not after credits. She sought neither man nor woman as a partner. Nor was she on the desperate hunt of a spice added addict. The addiction she sought to fulfill was much greater, of a much higher purpose. Mallory San Marca was on the hunt for knowledge.
It was knowledge, or rather the perception of lacking it, which drove her to the surface of the planet Bilbringi. It drove her through the crowded streets, her boot heels clicking with each measured step as she strode effortlessly through the throngs of sentients. The civilian bustle around her surged back and forth as hundreds went about their business in the crowded port city.
None stood in Mallory's way however as she walked through the crowd effortlessly. Those that might bump into her suddenly found themselves diverted of their own accord from her path, stopping suddenly as their mind stumbled in place for a moment as the black clad and cloaked woman passed them by. Or stepping aside unbidden as if they knew standing in her way would be the rudest thing to do in the world.
Their awareness of the mental stumble would be minimal and few would question the woman's presence. Fewer would notice the way her gloved right hand, fingers splayed in a strange contortion, hovered near her waist. None would catch the words she muttered under her breath as she walked past them, the city noise wiping the syllables away before they drifted to any casual observer's ears.
This suited Mallory San Marca just fine, it was in fact her intent to keep the path clear as she marched forwards, concentration channeled through syllables and symbols to weave subtle strands of the force on the minds of those around her. She made excellent time through the crowded streets utilizing this method and soon found herself standing in front of a peculiar building. She stopped and stared at the building, her fingers shifting slightly in arrangement to accommodate her sudden lack of locomotion.
The stream of civilians poured around her as she stared up at the Dorin embassy building, noting the pair of Kel Dor officers who stood at attention by the entrance. Her eyes scanned the various architectures and entrances. Alleys and windows, walls and rooftop. More a force of habit than any nefarious intent. Her stomach growled at her attention as she did this, prompting her attention to wander from her goal. Mallory spotted a small cafe that lay across from the embassy. The fingers of her right hand reverted to their original form as she crossed the busy walkway and made her way into the eating establishment.
The time had not been quite right. And, hunger was an unhealthy distraction.
A small chime sounded as Mallory stepped into the eatery and the heady scent of baked pastries, seared meat, and cooked vegetables clouded the air. Her black gloved hand relaxed at her side. The constant muttering stream of words fell quiet as her lips stilled. A slightly clouded look of concentration fell away from her eyes as her face relaxed and she gave a shallow smile to the Kel Dor behind the counter before moving to take a seat at a window booth with an excellent view of the embassy and the eatery entrance.
The menu revealed the food to be a Bilbringi-Dorin fusion restaurant with a heavy emphasis on the savory pies favored by the locals. Mallory idly looked over the options as she kept the majority of her attention on the embassy. Her eyes flitted between the menu, the embassy, and the door, scanning the rest of the room in between as she identified entrances to the kitchen and elsewhere within the eatery. It never hurt to be aware of ones options.
It was knowledge, or rather the perception of lacking it, which drove her to the surface of the planet Bilbringi. It drove her through the crowded streets, her boot heels clicking with each measured step as she strode effortlessly through the throngs of sentients. The civilian bustle around her surged back and forth as hundreds went about their business in the crowded port city.
None stood in Mallory's way however as she walked through the crowd effortlessly. Those that might bump into her suddenly found themselves diverted of their own accord from her path, stopping suddenly as their mind stumbled in place for a moment as the black clad and cloaked woman passed them by. Or stepping aside unbidden as if they knew standing in her way would be the rudest thing to do in the world.
Their awareness of the mental stumble would be minimal and few would question the woman's presence. Fewer would notice the way her gloved right hand, fingers splayed in a strange contortion, hovered near her waist. None would catch the words she muttered under her breath as she walked past them, the city noise wiping the syllables away before they drifted to any casual observer's ears.
This suited Mallory San Marca just fine, it was in fact her intent to keep the path clear as she marched forwards, concentration channeled through syllables and symbols to weave subtle strands of the force on the minds of those around her. She made excellent time through the crowded streets utilizing this method and soon found herself standing in front of a peculiar building. She stopped and stared at the building, her fingers shifting slightly in arrangement to accommodate her sudden lack of locomotion.
The stream of civilians poured around her as she stared up at the Dorin embassy building, noting the pair of Kel Dor officers who stood at attention by the entrance. Her eyes scanned the various architectures and entrances. Alleys and windows, walls and rooftop. More a force of habit than any nefarious intent. Her stomach growled at her attention as she did this, prompting her attention to wander from her goal. Mallory spotted a small cafe that lay across from the embassy. The fingers of her right hand reverted to their original form as she crossed the busy walkway and made her way into the eating establishment.
The time had not been quite right. And, hunger was an unhealthy distraction.
A small chime sounded as Mallory stepped into the eatery and the heady scent of baked pastries, seared meat, and cooked vegetables clouded the air. Her black gloved hand relaxed at her side. The constant muttering stream of words fell quiet as her lips stilled. A slightly clouded look of concentration fell away from her eyes as her face relaxed and she gave a shallow smile to the Kel Dor behind the counter before moving to take a seat at a window booth with an excellent view of the embassy and the eatery entrance.
The menu revealed the food to be a Bilbringi-Dorin fusion restaurant with a heavy emphasis on the savory pies favored by the locals. Mallory idly looked over the options as she kept the majority of her attention on the embassy. Her eyes flitted between the menu, the embassy, and the door, scanning the rest of the room in between as she identified entrances to the kitchen and elsewhere within the eatery. It never hurt to be aware of ones options.