It was a well known fact that any time there were pilots and a bar was nearby, the squadron would end up drinking there together. With the Novogrod currently docked there, it wasn't a surprise for most to find the pilots of Valkyrie Squadron inside, enjoying a drink and some downtime after their latest adventures out in the stars. What was something of a surprise, at least to the citizens who hadn't caught the squadron drinking here before, was that intergalactic socialite and celebrity, Alis'heen'amey, was part of the squadron. Known throughout the civilised systems for her fashion, wealth, and well, pretty much nothing else, Sheena, as she was known by her core name, was in the eyes of most, the most typical heiress celebrity you could imagine. Viewed as ditzy and vain by most of the galaxy (something she certainly was), living off of Daddy's money and using it to ensure she was always in the spot light, she was the type of celebrity nobody particularly liked, but everybody followed anyway, and that everybody would stop to grab a holo of, because whatever outfit Alis'heen'amey was wearing was bound to be news tomorrow morning.

It was for this very reason that Sheena was running late to join her fellow pilots. She had intended to head straight to the bar, but had been stopped outside by so many people wanting holographs, she'd been happily posing for a good twenty minutes. It wasn't like she could resist having her picture taken anyway, and besides, she could always join later.

So she entered the bar with a cheerful wave to her pilots, not that they needed the wave to know that she was there. Even before she came through the doors, her incredibly heavy perfume scent filled the bar, even over the smell of alcohol and smoke, and she click clacked over in black stiletto boots, doubtlessly costing roughly half the bar, clicking so loudly she was difficult to ignore. Jewellery on her wrists, ears and neck jangled, all shining, sparkling priceless diamonds, and even her outfit, although a concession to being a pilot, was insanely fashionable, skin tight leggings, a shiny, expensive leather jacket, and a shimmering designer vest top that again doubtlessly cost more than most people earned in a lifetime. Her make-up was as heavy as ever, and her crimson eyes, not quite glowing like a full blooded Chiss, but with red irises betraying her quarter human heritage, blinked from under extended fake lashes thick with mascara. It was easy to see why so many people found it difficult to believe she was one of the most dangerous pilots in the galaxy.

"Like, I am totes sorry about that." She apologised as she took a seat with her fellow pilots in her cakey, valley girl accent, before smiling across at them all on glossy, shining red lips. "So, like, I didn't miss anythin', right?" She asked hopefully. "'cause, like, I still gotta get my drink n' stuff." She added. By now, all the pilots knew it was impossible to get Sheena to drink the usual pilot drinks. It was either expensive wine or glittering cocktails for her. It didn't do much for the squadron's image, but neither did Sheena in general.

Until she was flying, that was.