#a. thevar.

[general-indso]

local time: 30 october 2022. noon. location: city center. leoran market. continuing from here. @amala-thevar​

“General Indso!” She called out after finally spotting the towering woman, tucked in a corner, away from the main mass of revelers. It was an effort to keep her own tone from drawing too much attention. She wasn’t trying to incite any sort of panic-- not yet, anyway. “General, oh I’m glad I’ve found you!” Her voice lowered, and she glanced around at the too friendly merriment surrounding them. How many of these people were currently being dosed? Far too many, she guessed, watching as an outworlder bit into some sort of filled pastry. “I don’t know if you know this already, but we’ve got a problem on our hands.”

Godsdamnit, Laepona thought to herself the moment she recognized the voice in question. The General’s commanding height and presence were usually to her benefit; not so much when she was doing her best to remain unassuming.

“Councilwoman Thevar,” Laepona greeted curtly, more curtly than really intended, her gaze tripping over a beautiful mosaic of a million different shades of green in the nearest tree before settling on Amala.

The woman appeared stunning, cloaked in broad brush strokes of warm browns and yellows. Laeponia could only stare for a moment, blinking fiercely. Finally, she managed to reply. “I am aware of the situation, yes.” A pause. “I have contacted Starfleet. They’re bringing medical personnel, and…” Another pause, this one far more hesitant. Laeponia admitted without admitting: “My Lieutenant General is en route to handle the situation.”

[general-indso]

8th September, 2022; the Embassy || @amala-thevar​

Flowers. It wasn’t that Lapeonia didn’t like flowers. They were a curiosity more than anything else, maybe, when her harsh homeworld tended to produce hardy, unembellished vegetation without as much flair for green and color as Leora obviously had. No, it was more that she found them superfluous, particularly when plucked from their natural purpose and arranged, however artfully, in a tall, curvy vase placed in the middle of Laeponia’s immaculately organized desk.

Arms folded, Laeponia scrutinized the ornate and delicate blooms as if they held some secret, or perhaps an incendiary device. It was her birthday. She hadn’t forgotten; she was entirely too organized to forget her own birthday, nevermind the fact Marcelio had called early that morning with a cheerful video acknowledgement — Caesius even appeared over his shoulder, at one point. But their care package wasn’t meant to arrive for another day or two. And they wouldn’t send flowers, they knew her better than that. They would send practicalities.

So, Laepona was left to wonder at the arrangement, still poring over it as if it couldn’t be trusted when the soft whoosh of doors briefly drew her attention. “Councilwoman,” she acknowledged neatly and, knowing Amala Thevar to be one of the least threatening of all, subsequently paid her no mind as she picked up her tablet instead. The woman’s entrance had given her the idea to check the embassy’s logs — a to-the-minute list of the building’s comings and goings, as requested by the General herself. At least this could help her to narrow it down to who was on premises within the last six hours. The flowers were still quite fresh.