"So the plan is…" Obi-wan's voice trailed off as he realized that no one was listening to him. Of course this was not an unusual situation, but he actually had something important to say this time. Looking displeased, he grumbled a bit to himself. Yes, he knew that no one enjoyed these sort of pre-hours-of-hell speeches, but this was important!
Not surprisingly Vader was ignoring him as well, but that was only to be expected. After all, Vader was much to important (he thought) to be doing any sort of informing of the masses, and since he already knew there was little need to pay attention. He was also looking a little more pensive than normal, looking out into the empty space as though there were conflicting things on his mind.
"Anyway," Obi-wan continued pointedly, reaching out to flick both absent-minded padawans in the head (hard). "The current 'government' is headed by the pair of self-declared Aristocrats Ianthe and Cynric. The diamond business can be cutthroat when times are as hard as they have been," He emphasized that for no reason apparent to them. "They will be civil, and sweetly so, but do not expect any sort of genuine friendliness. They are not a friendly people, and these are two of the most cold-blooded people I have ever had the misfortune to meet. You are going to be introduced as Apprentices, which you are, but there's no need to discuss anything with anyone." Read: Keep your mouth shut! "I know you would be considered underage on your own planet, but there will be drinking and it is extraordinarily rude to refuse. Just keep things in moderation. You will also be functioning as our formal escorts, as…" He trailed off, waiting for his compatriot to take his cue.
"As this is a potentially hostile situation, We," It was the royal we again. "Have arraigned for a double to assume the identity of Darth Vader. So for a night, I'm my own entourage." Vader commented. It was actually a much easier thing to do than it sounded, as anyone that was a similar height/body build could wear the suit and appear to be Darth Vader. Very few people knew who Darth Vader really was, and they didn't matter.
Katie had to admit (to herself, never out loud) that the evening didn't seem to be half as bad anymore. The prospect of trying to eat whatever sort of twisted thing they served politely was close to horrifying, but … No. She was acting pathetically, like she always seemed to whenever her heart gave the tiniest flutter. She should be more like Mel, and grow a backbone. Straightening, she looked back at Obi-wan as if patiently awaiting orders.
Mel was looking rather unconcerned, except for the fact that she still didn't like the red dress. "What kind of food are they going to be serving?" She asked, sounding wary. They were still adjusting to the piles of weird things that were thrown around casually by the ship's chefs, and it might look bad if she refused to eat.
"I'm not sure. Hoth food is usually pretty strong-flavored and hot, as its so bland and cold outside. Lots of spicy, but oddly enough plenty of potatoes. Not a lot of fruits since they don't grow very well, but there are plenty of interesting vegetables they can force to produce under ground." Obi-wan, personally, disliked Hoth food. He disliked Hoth people, their weather, their décor, their accent… basically, the entire damned planet. What could he say? It was genetic. No one else from his own home planet liked it, considering it a large waste of water. Curiously enough, the other natives of Naboo did like the diamonds though this was more of a shiny complex than a redeeming feature.
"How should we address them?" Mel pestered, wanting to come off right and hopefully impress them. Her innate charisma was helpful, though it wouldn't save her looking like a complete heathen if she did something stupid.
"Lord and lady." Obi-wan answered, looking glad that his padawan seemed interested in at least some of the customs. It was also good ammunition for a better-padawan argument, if he could provoke Vader into one. Not that he'd ever had a problem provoking people…