Sora did not like being in the dark for her missions. She knew intelligence wasn't always available beforehand, for a variety of reasons, but going in relatively blind never sat well with her. No matter how prepared she was, thus far, it didn't seem like it was ever enough. At least Bakura wasn't a completely foreign sight for her.<br/><br/>That wasn't quite what bothered the Jedi, though. Sora had been through quite a bit of impromptu combat and faced terrible odds and ambushes before, coming out unscathed and triumphant. None of this really ruffled her, even if it came to mind.<br/><br/>What caused the small crease of a frown and the intermittent tug of her hand on fabric was the dress adorning Sora's body (http://i1.squidoocdn.com/resize/squidoo_images/590/draft_lens7569842module63834442photo_1255929425maggie-sottero-alice-ruby-red.jpg). Never once in her time in the Fringes had she worn such a thing before, and she didn't wear anything like them growing up. Feeling the folds of fabric surrounding her grated against her nerves and put her on edge.<br/><br/>After presenting her envelope and thanking the man at the front desk, Sora took a few moments to re-center herself. She couldn't stand out like such a beacon of nervousness, not with a covert operation on the line. Releasing a breath, she took back her poise and grace and spread her attention across the room, rather than on the cloth on her skin. Smiling pleasantly, she made her way to the designated table and sat down carefully. Waiting for the others to arrive, she cast mildly curious looks around the room, appearing more distracted and bored than anything else.