Some off duty mercenaries approach them

"Saw you carrying that whole tray of whore's juice."

The man's voice reached them before he did. It was loud, deep, and booming with the confidence of some sort of military officer and the man himself was only slightly mismatched with it. He had broad shoulders, a deep tan that cut off at the wrist and neck lines to imply the cut of the combat garb typically he wore, but something about him screamed professional, more than soldier. Perhaps it was the cut of his hair which was was long and wavy in a way that would have never matched standard Imperial regulations. Though what really belied his distance from formal military life was the company he kept. A half dozen or so other young men followed in his wake. They were fit, though distinctly less well-kept men in their early twenties who made their leader, perhaps a mere 30 years old, look rather distinguished by comparison.

"Harlan," he said, by way of greeting. His eyes settled on the platter, still half full with glasses. "I figured you must have some friends. Would've figured it was a whole lot more with that many glasses."

"Oh, they're around," Robin said with a vague nod off in the direction where Fuu and Liv had disappeared.

A familiar chill was trying to creep up Becky's spine. Something about this man was off. Yet try as they might, her natural instincts just couldn't muster enough focus to push that thought into clarity. Instead, she found her gaze fixating on the strong line of his clean-shaved jaw or the pleasant arch of his broad shoulders. She could see the way him and his friends were eyeing up the three of them, but it passed through her mind like so much useless noise. The predatory smirk of one portly blonde as he stared unabashed at Robin's freckled cleavage or the way a few were starting to group up around Skye closing her in like a wounded fawn seemed distant and unimportant now in a way that they never really should have.

Becky's mind so rarely allowed her peace and even as the intellectual part of her brain noted warning signs and started insisting that she call for help, the rest of it was mired in a pleasant, warm haze. She could ignore the screaming with almost no effort at all...

"...it's kinda nice," Becky murmured, though no one seemed to hear her.

"I assume you're looking to party?" Harlan said with a broad grin that easily matched Robin's own.

"Well..." Skye started, but fell silent as Robin climbed to her feet. She immediately lost her balance in the hot sand and stumbled forward right into Harlan's strong arms. Something about the way his bulky silhouette utterly engulfed Robin's set Becky's heart alight. The contrast of his golden skin against her pale, supple figure mixed with the doe-eyed innocence in her eyes and the mature, predatory keenness in his own to create an image that was almost as intoxicating to look at as the drink Becky had just downed.

"Of course," Robin said breathlessly, her wide blue eyes still fixed on his. "We're party girls, after all."