Log Date: 8/21, 8/22/98 Log Cast: Kid Cane, Damos Naded, Han Solo, Ioston Del'tey, Lando Calrissian, Leia Organa-Solo, Surck, Nicole Tenekjian, Aidon Semmes, Rabid, Venus DarkStar, Benedict Grev, Morganna Tazecks, Heinrich Stalh, Jindra Langri Log Intro: Requested to join the New Republic party in Caspar space by Commodore Tarroc D'agor, Han has assembled a few squads of Ground Ops troops to rendezvous with the _Alderaan_ in Sluis Van orbit. And off they've gone to Caspar, where Han takes only enough time to get those under his command properly settled in before going in search of his ship, his partner, and his wife. The _Millenium Falcon_ is readily located, currently parked planetside on Caspar, but there's neither a Princess nor a Wookiee aboard her. The Corellian thus continues his search up to Kichnar Station, and the concource on Level Four.... ---------- You leave the turbolift. Level 4 -Concourse- The main concourse of the KOS is the busiest part of the station. Wider than the rest of the station,this level is nearly half a mile in diameter. The center of the concourse is domed upward, with the turbolift tube rising up through the center. Spacers, traders, technicians and guards of countless races bustle through the concourse. There is an electronic sign by the western hallway that flashes, "Visit The Newly Opened Western Concourse... Space Available... Contact the Station Administrator..." OOC Note: Type INSPECT/CONTENTS to see what else is here. -=-=-=-=-=-=<>=-=-=-=-=-=- => Leia => Aidon => Nicole => Damos => Lando => Kid_Cane => IGNews Terminal - KOS => Caspar News Service - Kichnar Edition => Mail Terminal: Kichnar -=-=-=-=-=<>=-=-=-=-=- Edgeward West leads to Level 4 -Western Concourse-. Holonet Booth leads to Holo Booth. Edgeward North leads to Level 4 -Northern Concourse-. Edgeward South leads to Level 4 -Southern Concourse-. Edgeward East leads to Level 4 -Eastern Concourse-. TurboLift leads to Turbolift. Without sparing another look for the no doubt charming couple, Cane steps past them and takes a deep breath. Playtime's over. He picks up a shrill and eery whistling and starts off into the crowd, slowly making a round through the concourse. Damos nods at the corellian man, and goes back to puffing at his cigar. The ever-active lifts, this time around, let out a tall, dark-haired man with a lean face, and thusly let out, Solo starts mingling into the passing sentients, taking stock of his surroundings. Damos waves Ioston over to his bench Ioston falls out of his day-dreaming stupor on a bench near the turbolift. he stands up quickly, nervous that he ignored someone...he calms down when he realizes he was fine where is. He sits back down, returning to his usual simple observing routine. He brightens as he notices some prominent New Republic figures. Lando puts his arm in Nicole's as he gives the fellow at the news terminal another glance, saying to Kid_Cane, "Perhaps we'll do business another time." He turns back to Nicole then, giving her an appreciative, yet friendly look, when his eyes find Han's face in the crowd. He looks back toward Nicole, then once more to Han and toward where he'd seen Leia last, thinking about the possibilites of a pleasant reunion as well as a drink with the lady on his arm. "Will...excuse...PARDON me..." All of these words from a tired, terse princess are for naught as she tries to skirt around a collective of Trandoshans, whose bulk is moving more slowly than she would care to go. Finally Leia stops, hands on hips, and just sighs to try to master her temper. Not always the easiest of things. The Turbolift's doors close as it is moved to another level. The Turbolift arrives and the doors open. Surck exits the turbolift. Surck has arrived. Nicole is oblivious to the stars suddenly trampsing down the corridors of KOS. She just looks about herself, and occasionally up to her companion, mentally wracking her brain to try and remember where she's seen him before. Making a quick face, as she finally gives up, she attempts to follow her partner's gaze, wondering, "See someone you know?" Surck walks out and al;most emediatly notices all the hero's of the rebellion and walks off to hide Surck looks at you for a moment. Ioston looks in slight wonderment and awe and murmurs to Damos, "What do you know...the infamous Princess Leia, Han Solo, and... Lando. All here on Kichnar. What do you suppose they are doing here?" Kid_Cane's step falters as he catches sight of someone in a mood nearly as faul as his. He pressed the palm of his right hand against his forehead and observes Leia for a moment. It's obvious he either doesn't recognise her as a celebrity or doesn't care, because his wry smile is hardly respectful. The hand drops back to his side and he shrugs his indifference to the situation. "Hey babe, ya ain't gunna hit anyone, are ya?" If he's aware that he's drawing attention, Han Solo gives no particular sign of it. He merely makes his way through the concourse as if it belongs to him, his hazel gaze sweeping along this or that sentient. It doesn't take him long to espy Leia's petite form, and he starts heading in her direction. Aidon watches the princess for another moment, and then steps up to her side. "Perhaps," he says genially, "a phalanx of Marines could get you through with less trouble. I haven't got one, but you might be able to get me cloned." Damos shrugs,and murmers, "Probably have business here. Don't really care what to be honest. Lando clears his throat and says, quietly, "Actually, two very good friends of mine. Perhaps you'd like to meet them? As you said, there's nothing like a free drink, and maybe I can talk Han into buying a round." He raises his free hand to gesture toward Han, then lets his eyes move about the area as he catches the mention of his name over the din of the crowd. Ioston murmurs back, "I am...Im going to get closer, so I can hear." With that he rises form the bench and steps forward a couple steps, glancing up occasionally from his datapad. Damos murmers something about wishing he had a sabaac deck on him. _Babe_????? Leia turns to regale Cane with a searing glare as warm as a winter eve on Hoth before she tells Aidon with a far warmer tone, "Thank you, sir, but I'll make my way out eventually." Up toward Cane's sneer she stares, neither impressed nor intimidated. Surck sees the Verpine and sends a radio wave transmission to it Nicole quirks her brow curiously, then shakes her head a bit. Nah. Stupid thought. Just a common name. Like John Smith, right? A simple shrug, as she replies, "Sure... why not?" The more the merrier, right? "Evenin'," drawls Solo, as he approaches Calrissian and the Princess. His gaze settles on the unfamiliar individual -- Cane -- by Leia, and he says blandly, "Mind if I crash this party?" Ioston doesn't pick up anything from Surck...mayhap it has something to do with his only having a stub for his left antennae. Aidon gives Cane a thoughtful look. The sort he would give a bug. But Solo's got the rights here, so he fades himself into the background with a grin and, with a glance at Solo, a "Yes, I expect you will." Raising his hands in silent defense, Cane only chuckles as he shakes his head. "Ain't gunna say nuffin' no moah. Ain't been in no mind ta..."-he shrugs and dismisses the matter as Solo steps in-"...nevah mind. Ya have a nice day, ma'am." With an actual grin plastered on his broken features, he adds, "Jus' dunt hit anyun, is all. My dayz been long 'nuff". He takes a few steps back, blinks and starts off in a random direction. Kid_Cane This particular human male looks lean and unimposing. His face is round and battered, with a crooked, broken nose and several small scars on his temples and stubbled cheeks. His thin lips seem set in a permanent sneer. Lively dark eyes contrast his overal appearance; they seem to be humoring everything around him with a sharp, cynical quality. Sandy-blonde hair is cut short in a practical and squarish military style. Despite his rugged appearance, he can't be older than halfway past his twenties. He wears a practical white jacket over non-descript blue denim trousers and a white shirt, the jacket's design very similar to what you might encounter in modern hospitals all over the Galaxy. His brown boots seem worn and ragged, and generally contrast his otherwise new clothing. They are reinforced by means of extra straps and patches of leather and seem fit for the dump. -=-=-=-=-=-=<>=-=-=-=-=-=- => Doctor's Bag Whatever violence might have been visited on poor Cane thanks to Leia's present mood and physical state is avoided by the Corellian drawl that draws her attention from those closest. Brown eyes popping out, she exclaims, "Han!" with a note that says, "Why no, I didn't expect to see you." Lando favors the Corellian with a broad grin that shows some of his teeth, then looks back toward the surly fellow he'd been speaking with. _Ah! There's Leia!_ he thinks, seeing her once more. For a moment, he envies her her heighth, as it makes it so easy to hide in a crowd. Licking his lips, Lando turns his thoughts back to Nicole and says, "Miss, I'd like you to meet Han, and his wife, Leia." He gestures to each with his free hand, then looks back to Nicole, cocking his head slightly as he says, "I must apologize, but I'm afraid I must have missed your name. What did you say it was?" Ioston inches against the general flow of people to get closer...he's having an awful time getting there. Already he's been bumped around severely, and the burly human coming his way with the crowd seems to be smiling with some 'friendly' plan." Damos pulls a chrono out of a pocket and looks at it. Nicole blinks a time or two, as she does recognize those two famous faces. One doesn't see 'em this far out in the boondocks. Well. If Caspar were the boondocks. A petite hand is extended in their general direction, not too sure who exactly to extend it to first, as she quickly supplies, "Nicole... Nicole Tenekjian." Just /who/ is this guy who's buying her a drink? For all his struggling to actually meet such famous figures, Ioston sure does get some bad luck. The 'friendly' man going past him gives him an equally 'friendly' shove...odd how in his general direction you no longer see the tall verpine...only an odd chittering sound and beings glancing down at their feet as they continue on their way, oblivious to the moving 'rug'. Kid_Cane regains his bearings after three steps and smirks. He rolls his head around his shoulders, trying to release some of the strain, and sets course for the elevator banks. Patiently moving along with the flow of the crowd, he glances at his wristwatch with a ominous scowl. Still a long shift to go. Damos's humongous eyes get even wider as he sees Ioston get knocked to the floor. Ioston appears back up, a little dizzy, and allows the crowd's flow to wash him back towards Damos and their bench, where he sits down heavily, his tough skin not bruised, but a little dirty. He says in a dead serious voice directed at his friend, "Can not...do it...to many of...them..." He sits back to catch his breath, thinking: oh well, the its a small galaxy anyhow...well, relatively. Damos becomes bored of hero watching, gets up, and stretches Damos says, "chok' con", in Bocce. Ioston looks at Damos, leaning back up, 'Where to? Kid_Cane enters the Elevator. Kid_Cane has left. The Turbolift's doors close as it is moved to another level. Damos grabs ioston by the shoulder, and drags him off to the eastern concourse Damos heads into the eastern concourse. Damos has left. Ioston heads into the eastern concourse. Ioston has left. Solo peremptorily moves to Leia's side, slips an arm around her dainty frame in a manner that announces that anyone else planning to converge on the Princess is going to have to go through him first, and leans over to murmur down into her ear, "Hello there, Your Worship. Busy day?" Aidon is easily able to maneuver through the crowd; for all that he's tall and broad, he seems to slide through pretty well. Since the princess already has an escort, he slides a little and gets out of their way. It appears that it never occurs to him that perhaps -she's- escorting the Corellian. Rabid comes from the eastern concourse. Rabid has arrived. Lando's introduction, even Lando's presence, goes by the wayside as Leia is joined by the handsome Corellian she is blessed - and cursed? - to call husband. Stress and fatigue draining away, she puts her arm about his waist and presses her lips to his cheek as she answers softly for his ears alone. You sense Leia whisper, "I don't remember the day anymore..." Han sweeps another seemingly casual gaze around the concourse, just to check and see if anyone is intent on drawing near Leia - or, for that matter, himself. He meets Lando's dark gaze with his own momentarily, flicks Calrissian a brief crooked smile of acknowledgement just to let the other man know he saw him, and seems content for a moment to just stand there and whisper to the woman at his side. You whisper, "Wanna get out of here? Just came in myself." to Leia. Rabid walks out from the entrance to the eastern concourse, and begins moving through central part of the station's fourth level. He stops in mid-stride, as the crowd parts somewhat, and reveals a trio of the New Republic's most famous heroes. If he thought the pilot in full New Republic flight gear was a bit much, -this- was like inviting every Imperial spy in the systems for a private party. Leia nods readily, cheeks burning an ember-like blush thanks to Han's unexpected nearness. She really hasn't seen Lando, though Han's glance in his direction raises her focus from Han's lean features to Lando and his companion. To the darkskinned gambler's credit, Leia seems almost as happy to see him as Han. Almost. "Lando...this is such a suprise." Lando gives Han and Leia a look and a moment to whisper quietly to each other. When Leia addresses him, he smiles, favoring her with a warm look. He then licks his lips, puts on his best 'used ship salesman' voice, and says, addressing the lanky Corellian, "I was just expounding on your generosity and charm, Han, telling Miss Nicole here how you hardly ever pass up an opportunity to buy your friend a drink. What do you say... shall we make for the less crowded gambling establishment down the way, or simply stay here and risk our lives further in this crowded concourse?" Rabid sidesteps a bit, sliding back into the crowds. He pulls back his sleeve, and talks into the small comlink on his wrist for a moment. Damos comes from the eastern concourse. Damos has arrived. Damos slices through the crowd as quickly as possible Damos presses the elevator call button. The Turbolift arrives and the doors open. Damos hops into the turbolift. Damos enters the Elevator. Damos has left. The Turbolift's doors close as it is moved to another level. Turning to eye Lando with a droll sort of stare, Han, his arm still draped around Leia's petite shoulders, tells Calrissian, "For once, pal, I'm feelin' generous. But yeah, let's get out of the public line of fire, huh? I just got here, what say you guys pick a place." He directs this both to the Princess and the 'businessman', and inclines his head politely enough to Nicole. Rabid casually settles against a support column, and continues speaking into the small comm unit, regularly flicking his eyes back up to view the group gathered together. Surck looks towards afew other vwerpines Aidon glances back once, and then disappears into the crowd. It's making him uneasy, all of a sudden. Perhaps it's the sudden tension in the air. As if mayhem is veiled only thinly tonight, and the wind is blowing hard against the viel. For Leia's part, her expression has lost some of its fatigue in light of Han's appearance, and she, too, gives Nicole a quietly charming smile while noting gently, "It's good to see you, Lando." Lando looks around the crowded concourse, then looks from Solo to Nicole. At Leia's warm words, he turns back to the Princess and says, "It's a pleasure as always to see you too, Leia." His eys slip back over toward Solo, his grin broadening in anticipation of Han's glowering look, then says quickly, "We were thinking about the Keepon Casino, though I'm agreeable to any place within walking distance if you're buying." "The Keepon'll do," says Solo, neutrally -- the sort of neutrality that could mean anything from 'I'll go there, but I won't like it' to 'great, my kind of place.' With his free hand, he gestures lightly off in the appropriate direction. "After you, buddy." Leia gives Han's waist a gentle squeeze of reassurance, her smile and glance for him alone before she nods to Lando. "As he said...after you." Lando glances about the concourse once more, then pats the hand on his arm gently as he starts to lead Nicole along a path of least resistance in the direction of the Keepon. A few paces, and the young woman stops. She offers a few apologetic words, as well as promises to catch-up another time, then moves off quickly, disappearing in the crowd as she moves on to go about whatever business it is that she has to attend. With a slight shrug, Lando turns and continues on the way he'd been going. Venus comes from the northern concourse. Venus has arrived. Lando nearly runs into Venus as he makes his way toward the Northern concourse. He gives her a polite, "Pardon me," then continues on his way. Lando heads into the northern concourse. Lando has left. Rabid can be seen leaning up against a support column, talking on his comlink, while watching the Tremendous Trio. Venus walks briskly through the concourse with her briefcase in hanf. She has her eyes focused on the space immediately in front of her, until she sees the superpowers before her. A quick bow and polite smile, and she is off. Ioston comes from the eastern concourse. Ioston has arrived. Arm in arm with Leia, Han makes his way off in Lando's wake. You enter the wide, busy concourse. Level 4 -Northern Concourse- You stand in the middle of a long corridor reaching from the center of the station out to the outer edge. Along the corridor a variety of businesses have shops open and flashy signs trying to draw you into their interiors. OOC Note: Type INSPECT/CONTENTS to see what else is here. -=-=-=-=-=-=<>=-=-=-=-=-=- => Lando -=-=-=-=-=<>=-=-=-=-=- Keepon Casino leads to Level 4 -Keepon Casino-. FineLine Spaceways Office leads to Level 4 -FLS Offices-. Blue Nebula leads to Level 4 -Blue Nebula Cantina-. Coreward leads to Level 4 -Concourse-. Lando looks at you for a moment. Leia enters from coreward. Leia has arrived. Stepping past the bouncers, Lando makes for the huge doors and opens them for Han and Leia, saying, "Please, allow me." As they emerge from the crowded environs of the concourse, Leia rests her head against Han's side in marked relief and hugs him to her with one arm, her sole indulgence in making him aware publically how pleased she is to see him. Benedict enters from coreward. Benedict has arrived. And Han doesn't mind this, in the slightest. Out of uniform, the Corellian is perfectly content to let Leia lean against him as they catch up with Calrissian. "Busy day for you?" Han mururs to Lando, as they draw within earshot. Benedict moves briskly in from the core, his expression about as sour as...well, a Bith coming out of a bar. Hands shoved deep in his pockets, he executes an ungraceful spin to avoid running into a large Wookiee. Benedict Cold grey eyes, calculating and solemn, regard his surroundings carefully with hints of a man used to watching his back. The face looks a puzzling mix of young and old, lines visible where laughs don't track. His burnished auburn hair is brushed back away from his forehead, though a lock often falls into his eyes. Dressed simply in midnight blue breeches with worn silver piping, black kneehigh boots, and a white shirt with a doublebrested shortcoat worn open, he presents a picture of just another space jockey. Altogether a man at tense ease, as if just letting the habit of saluting fade after many a year... Lando glances in the direction of the center concourse, his thoughts filled with the young woman that just slipped away. "Not nearly as busy as I'd hoped," he says. His eyes follow the stranger for a moment as he sulkilly moves into view. Leia's gaze departs Lando and Han for the direction in which Lando had looked, and one eyebrow cants upward. "Seems I'm not the only one whose day was difficult..." she remarks quietly to Han. Han manages to hide a grin as he and his companions make their way for the Keepon. "You can tell us all about it, my fee for that drink you want. C'mon, pal." And with that, Han guides Leia towards the Keepon Casino's entrance. Benedict recovers with some limited grace and finds himself eye to chest with one of the casino bouncers. "Greets," he says smoothly. "You look like a man who would be craving, no, -starving- for a good shoeshine." The bouncer actually growls. Lando holds the door while Han and Leia slip inside, then looks back toward the disturbed bouncer and the odd fellow that had the gumption to disturb him. His brow creases a moment in wonder... the look of someone viewing something as absurd as seeing a droid challenge a wookie to a wrestling contest... then he turns to follow his friends into the establishment. Rabid enters from coreward. Rabid has arrived. Leia glances behind her at someone surprisingly closer to her vertically and laughs at his remarks to the bouncer. "I'm certain he means no harm," she remarks to the beefy man at the door before easing into the casino. You step between the pair of bouncers and enter Keepon Casino. Level 4 -Keepon Casino- For many beings, even tall ones, the only reminder this vast room gives of having a ceiling is the three large chandeliers which decend from the lofty roof to illuminate a virtual nebula of color and riches below. Crystal-distorted light casts a hazy glow over the casino, the rich midnight blue and gold trims of the decor giving the establishment the clandestine air of forbidden evenings and half-dreams. A clear aisle from the door sweeps a deep blue path to the bar against the far wall; islands of sabacc tables to the left of the entrance, a smooth near-reflecting black dancefloor to the right, and a wide raised dais in the far right corner which bears tables for dining. Odd movement against the wall behind the draws patrons' attentions, for the entire wall, up to two meters, is one large mirror; but not quite, as odd ghost images waft across its surface which have no real origin in the room. The bar, presiding from the back, is long and of a deep real wood, graceful stools before, and one of the largest collections of drinks behind, rising like steppes behind three hard-working human bartenders. The dance of the Sabacc cards, the disturbing and distracting images on the mirror Wall, the elegantly dressed patrons and the dancers on an ebony field give the Keepon Casino a near mythical, ephemeral quality. -=-=-=-=-=-=<>=-=-=-=-=-=- => Jedi Duel Machine => Slot Machine -=-=-=-=-=<>=-=-=-=-=- Corridor leads to Level 4 -Northern Concourse-. A line of Twi'lek chorus girls is reflected in the wall, running through the room. Lando steps into the entry way from the northern concourse. Lando has arrived. Leia steps into the entry way from the northern concourse. Leia has arrived. As the trio enters the Keepon, Han reluctantly pauses near the familiar guard at the door to surrender his blaster. He casts an inquisitive glance at his companions, flicking a hand around to ask 'so, pick a place...?' "Quieter in here tonight, I hope," he murmurs to the others. Rabid steps into the entry way from the northern concourse. Rabid has arrived. Morganna steps into the entry way from the northern concourse. Morganna has arrived. Lando hopes so, too, as he relinquishes his gun to the bouncer... the gun that some young lady had referred to as 'pretty'. _What was her name again? Doesn't matter, I suppose_ the Gambler thinks as he warilly eyes the weapon detector. With a sigh, he relinquishes his other gun to the bouncer, then turns to Leia and Han, saying, "Some place with a good view, is all I ask. And a table that I can set my drink on." Rabid steps in, slipping out his archaic-looking blaster pistol, and placing it in the hand of a waiting bouncer. A gentle tug on his suit straightens any wrinkles that the previos action may have caused, and he proceeds into the establishment, looking for an open spot. Horrors of horros, thepair of Imperials don't set off an alarm as they pass through the weapons detector. One of the bouncers motions to Morganna's vibroblade, but th Ambassador leans against the wall and mutters quietly, "it's peacebound, I've been let in with it countless times." she angles the hilt of the bl;ade so the boucner can see. "That way, then," suggests Han, gesturing towards a table not too far away. He smiles faintly. "I like blue. Hrmm, Your Highness?" Leia remarks to the two men accompanying her, "A place to sit and maybe something to drink...that's fine, but I'm tired enough to fall asleep in here if I'm not careful. And that's fine, Han, thank you." The blue table, then. Han leads his wife and his friend off in that direction; just as he'd done out on the concourse, he strides through the place as if he owns it, never mind that he's currently sauntering through the domain of Talon Karrde. Very well aware that chances are he's drawing the eyes of more than a few sentients, Han chooses to ignore any scrutiny rather than elude it. Let 'em look all they want. Rabid takes a glance through the crowd, finally seeing it. The Star Table...apt, no? The businessman grins slightly, as he thinks about it for a moment, and then begins moving towards it. In the mirror wall, a ghostly rancor plows -through- one of the sabacc tables, then blips out. You move onto the dias and take a seat at the Blue Table. Lando looks back toward the scarred woman and the other fellow as they enter. His gaze follows Rabid for a moment, but his attention remains on Morganna for some time as she refuses to relinquish her weapon. He shakes his head, then finally follows Han toward the blue table, with significantly less bravado. Her eyes also on the Star Table, Morganna approaches her favourite spot fron a different angle to Rabid. Her blue eye flahshes like one of the games machines around her, and the imperial aide closely flanking her side watches her back. Lando steps onto the dais and takes a seat at the Blue Table. Lando joins you. Rabid steps onto the dais and takes a seat at the Star Table. Stalh steps into the entry way from the northern concourse. Stalh has arrived. Leia steps onto the dais and takes a seat at the Blue Table. Leia joins you. At the table, Leia rests her head against Han's shoulders and remarks quietly, "I could use a really stiff drink. It's too bad I can't show that much weakness in front of that woman." Rabid slides into one of the seats, and looks up at the waitress who appears just to his right. She says something with a smile, and Rabid shakes his head. "No...I'm waiting for someone. I'll just have some tea for the moment." Morganna reaches the Star table just as Rabid takes a seat. Disgruntled, the Ambassador turns away to find another table, opting for one of the ones nearby, with not nearly as nice a view as from her table du chiox. Morganna steps onto the dais and takes a seat at the Moon Table. Drawing Leia's seat out for her and letting her take it before claiming another chair for himself, Han doesn't bother to case the place, as part of his 'let 'em look' philosophy of the evening. Or at least, he doesn't _seem_ to bother to case the place, at a casual glance. He just lets Leia lean against him, while conversing quietly with her and Lando. Lando remains standing until Leia takes her seat, then lowers himself smoothly into his chair as Han finds his own. At the table, Lando watches Leia a moment, then casually glances at Morganna in the reflection of one of the many odd mirrors in the room. He says, his eyes narrowing, "She looks familiar. Who is she?" At the table, Han_Solo lifts his eyebrows mildly, remarking, "I was going to ask you two about the situation around here, but you're beating me to it." At the table, Leia answers tiredly, eyes closing as she submerges herself in the comfort of Han's and Lando's company, "Morganna, Imperial Ambassador to Caspar. Just one of the people making my life difficult today." With a beaming smile on his face, one that could only mean success of some gigantic proportion, Stalh enters. His uniform, a startling tunic made of the finest Blood Red materials, gleams in the light of the Casino. Walking up to the bar, he sits down cordially and shouts, "Drinks on me, everybody!" That voice, that glorious, melodious voice belonging to Stalh drqaws Morganna's ettention from a devaronian striking it big on one of the slot machines. She shudders and sinks back in her chair, "How I despise that man." she mutters to one of her aides. The reflection of Leia in the mirror suddenly pixelizes and flys apart, only to reassemble again. Han's hazel gaze flicks sideways towards the door at Stalh's entrance, but he shows no other apparent reaction, continuing his quiet conversation with his companions. His only interruption is to signal a waiter, and let the young man head their way at his own time. Still sitting at his table with Han and Leia, Lando starts to open his mouth to say something quietly to his two companions, but is stopped at Stalh's exuberant announcement. He turns in his seat and gives the fellow a quizzical look, then turns back toward his friends, giving them a slight shrug. At the table, Leia's head sinks further into the reassuring pillow of Han's shoulder. "Maker alive...that's the -other- one..." Rabid's attention is easily caught by Stalh's shout, and his eyes rolls upwards, apparently sharing Morganna's sentiment. The waitress is just starting to walk away, when he adds, "And please...do -not- put it on his bill." At the table, Han_Solo considers Leia, while casting a casual glance at the bar. "You want to stay, Princess?" At the table, Lando opens his mouth once more to say something, and Han stills his words this time. He gives the 'old pirate' a grin and says, quietly, "Now you're stealing the words out of my mouth." At the table, Han_Solo winks. Leia raises her head from her husband's shoulder to study Morganna, then Stalh, and to her companions she simply shakes her head. "No, that's all right..." At the table, Lando, unable to get a good look at Stalh in a mirror, turns and mock stretches in his seat so that he can glimpse at the exorbadant stranger that seems to put a bur in Leia's saddle. As he turns back, he says quietly, "So what's his story? Another Imperial? He doesn't look familiar at all." A few aliens of various assortments take up Stalh's offer, but the human is slightly dismayed that no humans are drinking with him tonight. 'Hmm' he contemplats as the thinks that even his own kind is turning away at him. Determined to stop that immediately, he calls the barkeep over subtely and whispers to him. Occasionally he turns around pointing to various tables of interest, perhaps one could guess, signalling a message. The waiter quietly approaches the blue table, and Han Solo might be heard to tell him casually, "Corellian ale for me, and whatever these two want, as well." His dark head indicates Leia and Lando, nodding to each. "Just tea, thank you," Leia tells the waiter gratefully and graciously before lowering her voice again to Han and Lando. A shrill beep eminates from Morganna's belt and she retrieves a comlink, speaking softly into it. With a sigh, the scarred ambassador rises from her table and makes her way towards the Casino entrance. At the table, Leia answers with distaste, "A former Imperial who has, apparently, nothing but contempt for me. He says he hates the Empire and wants in the Inner Council to help end it. I don't believe him...there's something odd about him and his situation." Lando considers the surroundings and the current patronage, and decides to follow Leia's example with a less than ambitious drink. "Kaff, black, if it's fresh," he says to the waiter. Morganna makes her way out of the Casino. Morganna has left. The reflection of Leia in the mirror suddenly pixelizes and flys apart, only to reassemble again. The words, "Belay that," might be heard from the man sitting at the bar to the barkeep. His voice shifts into a lower octave as he continues to discuss something in detail with the barkeep. After throwing a few credits on the bar for measure, Stalh smiles. The waiter inclines his head to the three at the Blue Table, and heads off to fetch the requested drinks. He comes back shortly thereafter with tea, kaff, and Corellian ale on a tray, and as he reaches the table, he informs Solo politely, "Your drinks have been paid for, sir." The waitress returns a short time later with Rabid's tea, and he thanks her. "Oh...before you go, do you possibly have a small bit of paper on you?", he asks. She nods and pulls out a slip of paper from her wait pouches. "Thank you", he replies, and slips a pen out of his suit, starting scribbling on the paper. Solo's eyebrows go up, and he shoots a sidelong glance to Lando and Leia, murmuring to them, "Karrde's people showing their hospitality? Funny, I thought he didn't like me..." And then, more loudly, he tells the waiter, "Thanks pal." The young man nods, and goes off about his business. At the table, Lando purses his lips thoughtfully a moment, then shakes his head. He says, "I suppose you or Luke would know best when it comes to judging that sort of character. He seems to be in good spirits tonight, though." With that last, his eyes follow the departing waiter. At the table, Leia nods, ignoring her tea to massage her temples, confessing without enthusiasm, "I know he's got dangerous ideas and is as disrespectful to me as anyone can be...but I'm used to that. I should go to bed and sleep this off." A line of Twi'lek chorus girls is reflected in the wall, running through the room. The young man in vermilion turns his stool around to look at the trio of Republicans sitted at a table like strung out peacocks that they are. He raises his glass and tilts his head in a regal manner, copying almost in effect the typical nod given by Leia on many occassions, to the trio, indicating that it was actually him that bought your drinks Solo settles down with the ale in one hand, and his other arm draped around Leia's shoulders. As the Princess and Lando exchange soft murmurs, Solo's glance happens to catch that of Stalh at the bar, and the man's meaning is plain. He's not in earshot, so the Corellian must merely settle for giving him a bland lopsided smile by way of acknowledgement. Rabid finishes his writting with a small flourish, that could be his signature, and folds it up. He signals the same waitress over again, and hands her the folded note, as well as a small tip. "Blue Table, the lighter-skinned one." She looks over at the table, and then back to Rabid, with both an astonished, and a frightened look on her face. "Yes, I know who he is.....Please give that note to him.", the businessman says calmly, pausing in mid speech, to sip at his tea. The waitress nods slowly, and then starts walking over towards the Blue Table. Lando looks around the room openly, his brown eyes taking in patrons and bouncers and 'tenders alike. He shakes his head slightly, thinking not for the first time that his choice in venues probably could have been better. As the waitress approaches the table, his brown eyes fix on her a moment, then move back to his companions. At the table, Lando says, "At least the Kaff is good." At the table, Leia also espied Stalh's smirk and, pushing away her tea, she finds her feet while telling the two men with her, "I really would like to speak to both of you, but between the work left for me to do and the way my head aches, I think I'll return to the _Falcon_. Han...don't be out late, all right?" "Mister...ah..uh...Capt--Gene...uh...Solo?", the waitress stammers out, as she reaches the table. Solo blinks, distracted first by Leia's rising, then by the waitress who's approached the table. He hangs onto Leia's hand, not yet willing to let her go, as he diverts his attention to the newcomer. "I'm Solo, yeah," he replies in his gravelly tones, on the neutral side of amiable. He doesn't expect too much to worry about in Karrde's place -- but still, he's clearly expecting something, from the look of him. The waitress holds out her hand, which is grasping a small folded peice of paper. "Ah...uh...this is from the man over at the Star Table. The reflection of Han_Solo in the mirror suddenly pixelizes and flys apart, only to reassemble again. "Don't worry about me, Han. I've been wandering around the station without incident for days," Leia assures her husband and tries to withdraw her hand from his. Solo's dark brows arch, but he accepts the note readily enough, saying simply, "Thanks, sweetheart." He doesn't look at it yet, not until the waitress has withdrawn -- the Corellian is curious, but he's also just shy of paranoid. Instead, he turns his attention to the Princess, considering, and he then gets to his feet to consider Leia from his greater height. He also murmurs something to her, just loud enough for her and Lando to hear. Lando rises with the Princess, as he sees is his gentlemanly duties, though he has to sidestep in order to avoid jostling the babbling waitress. He looks between Leia and Han, then offers, "I was thinking about heading back to the _Lady Luck_ myself, if you wouldn't mind the company, Your Highness." Lando's grin is broad and playful as he slips into Han's playful use of the woman's royal title. At the table, Han_Solo glances at Lando, and then says gruffly, "I'd feel better if you let Lando walk you back." Leia's eyes imply a certain amount of caution as she tells both, "I smell a conspiracy...but all right. If we go now, before my head shatters." Lando stands from the Blue Table. Lando has departed. Solo smiles crookedly, and leans over to brush his lips across Leia's brow. He then flashes Lando a brief look, but a grateful one, and he tells both of them, "I won't get into too much trouble." He sounds almost serious. Leia stands from the Blue Table. Leia has departed. "Be certain of that." Leia sounds entirely serious as her hand hooks about Lando's arm. "Shall we, Captain Calrissian?" With the same graces and good manners he might show any woman he had plans of shmoozing, Lando offers Leia his arm, bowing slightly to her before saying, "Certainly." Rabid doesn't seem to be watching the blue table, instead focusing his attention on a small set of reports set on transparency papers. Leia makes her way out of the Casino. Leia has left. Lando makes his way out of the Casino. Lando has left. With reluctance, Han surrenders the Princess to Calrissian's company, and as the pair of them take their leave, he settles his rangy frame back into his chair. The waitress's note is still in one hand, and with the other, he takes up the ale he'd ordered. To all intents and purposes, he's going to casually finish that drink, nevermind any other interruptions. A spray of dim, tiny sparks races across the mirror wall's image, chasing each other to the other far side before disappearing. The man in red cautiously watches the Princess and the darker man leave. He slowly returns his gaze back to the Councillor's husband, eyeing him with curiosity - or is it contempt? one does not know. Eventually, with an entirely casual air, Solo peruses the note the waitress had slipped him, while sipping at the ale. Nothing of a reaction to the note's content is reflected on his lean weathered face, but he does give the slip of flimsy a long and steady look before folding it up and slipping it into a pocket. [The text of the note....] Please excuse this interruption of what looks to be your personal time. I'm un-aware of the state of New Republic's small arms supply. I have a feeling that you are aware, however, and I may be in a position to help increase it's supply. If you'd be interested in discussing this, drop by the StarShield Offices sometimes. Signed, M. Fox Rabid glances at the chronometer on his wrist, and looks towards the door. He frowns slightly, and goes back to looking over the reports, idly twirling a pen between his fingers. Rabid again looks at his chronometer, and looks towards the door. A slight pause, and he is folding up the papers, and slipping them into his coat. He stands slowly, dropping a few credits on the table, and begins heading for the door. The movement of patrons in the casino is deplicted in the large mirror as trailing faint auras of color. Picking up his drink with a nonchalant swipe, the man in red walks casually towards the table of Solo. A smirk increases on his fading tan face as he nears the fabled General's table. Suprising however is the fact that the man, mere metres from the Blue table, decides to sit down at a previously unoccupied table that is next to Solo's own. The man selects a table which is directly opposite to Solo, and begins to stare at Solo, apparently oblivious to everything except Han. The Corellian, with the nonchalance of a naive tourist -- or someone entirely aware of and able to function in his surroundings -- has casually been working on finishing off the ale. Occasionally, he's watched the door; sometimes, the sabacc tables, and once or twice, the changeable images on the wall. He doesn't miss Stalh's approach, though, nor the fact that he's getting stared at. This doesn't seem to intimidate him much; indeed, Solo simply shifts position and stares right back, leaning back in his chair, long blue-clad legs stretched out and crossed under the table. Rabid accepts his sidearm back, and slips it back into it's shoulder holster, taking one brief look behind his shoulder, before he steps out. Rabid makes his way out of the Casino. Rabid has left. A flight of bats swoops through the mirror's rendition of the room. Though styled as a military uniform, the blatantly miscolour suggests that this man is definitely not in the military presently. He leans back in his chair and raises his hands to his head in a very casual manner, not fitting his rigid appearance. He looks you over once more before saying up into the air, "Rough day at the office, General?" Although he speaks in Corellian, his accent is mixed with something other than that hailing from the Corell system. Lazily, replying in Corellian, Solo drawls, "Whatever gave you that idea?" Indeed, he's rather comfortably relaxed, from the look of him and his casually rumpled attire. The movement of patrons in the casino is deplicted in the large mirror as trailing faint auras of color. The dark brown headed man tilts his head in a slight manner as he says, "Er, I am a.." a slight sheepish grin appears on his face, "...voyeur of sorts you might say. I like to watch." He continues in the Corellian language, the reason unknown. "It just seemed that you didn't really want to leave your wife, or perhaps," his face grows serious, "You didn't want your wife to leave you?" Stalh The Human occupying your line of vision radiates a sense of self-control. While not overtly big, his 185 centimetre frame is would be noticeable in a average size room. His body appears well toned, though his real physique is unknown due to the clothes that he is wearing. The human male is wearing a red jacket which is done up from base to collar. The jacket appears to be a red as freshly spilt blood, which is contrasted brilliantly by the shinyess of the silver buttons that adorn it. The only other decoration that is visable on the jacket is a Black crest which encompasses the jacket's base, collar and cuffs. Two Black stripes are presented along the creases of the pants that he is wearing. The pants, like the jacket are also blood red. There appears no stain or discolour to the clothing that is a very close fit but not tight.Finishing just below his knees is a pair of highly polished black leather boots into which the pants are tucked. Only remotely matching the shinyness of the boots are the man's black leather gloves. These are immaculately polished and are very tight fitting, however they do look comfortable. The man's face however is a stark contrast to the militeristic style clothing. His skin is a nordic tan that glows in the light. Coupled with this tan is a head of brown hair that has a slight hint of red in it in sunlight. As you look to his face you notice that his eyes are captivating. They are the darkest green possibly imagined for a man of this nature and they look as if they were taken as gems from the seas of Corellia itself. "Could be either way," Solo drawls noncommittally. He doesn't elaborate, and the arch glint of his eyes might be translated to mean, 'And I should tell you about my interactions with my wife -why-....?' The reflection of Han_Solo in the mirror suddenly pixelizes and flys apart, only to reassemble again. Stalh slowly removes his hands from his head and places them flat on the table. "I do not mean to pry General," he says smoothly, indicating that he is going to anyway. "however, it is a shame to see a perfectly matched couple perhaps in a crisis of some sort?" He runs a hand through his thick hair, trying to add a sincere look to his image. "Perhaps, I could be of assistance to the hero of the Republic?" Jindra steps into the entry way from the northern concourse. Jindra has arrived. _Crisis? Huh? Just because Leia happened to leave without me...?_ Han keeps his bafflement out of his face, though, and merely replies dryly, "If the hero of the Republic were having any kind of crisis with his wife, he might consider help. Thanks anyway, pal." Jindra enters the casino,the door sliding shut behind her. She takes several slow steps at first, taking in the new surroundings. She follows the blue path toward the bar and then spots an empty seat. She weaves her way through a crowd, nodding politely as she does so. The man bows his head in respect to the General, "Forgive me," he says in Corellian which is starting to sound as if it has Coruscant overtones. "I was under the impression that there might of been something wrong." Sighing slightly he continues, "The Councillor looked worried about something, I thought," a hint of a smile tugs at the corner of his mouth, "that with my resources, I might be able to resolve whatever problem you and her may face." The mirror's image acquires a faint reddish tinge, which fades after a few minutes. Solo rolls a shoulder in a dismissive kind of shrug, though his expression remains polite enough. "She has a headache," he replies calmly. "Went back to my ship to lie down. She'll get over it." Jindra reaches the bar and rests on hand on its edge. She looks around curiously, it seems obvious she is not exactly one to frequent casinos. One patron snarls, deciding she has come to close to his area and he moves down a seat. Jindra glances around and her attention momentarily falls on a familiar figure....two actually. Stalh shrugs and his smile dims a touch as he realises he is getting no where. "I hope she makes a full recovery." A flash of some unknown emotion runs through the eyes of Stalh. "She must be at her best," he says sincerely, "to defeat the evil remnants of the Imperial threat I must say." He states off into space for a moment, most probably contemplating the things of the universe. He looks back to the General and says with a suprising burst of passion, "There are no new threats are there General?" On the mirror wall, Jindra's reflection morphs into an unrecognizable Wookiee for a while. The image of Stalh transforms into an appirition of a demonic being, tormented by flames, before morphing into a soul that looks angelic. Moments later the image dissipitates. Solo, apparently oblivious to the antics of Karrde's mirror wall, replies blithely, "Not my job to know, pal." His ale glass now empty, just for giggles and grins Han switches it off with the tea that Leia had abandoned, holding it just as deftly as he had the ale. "You're the diplomat. You tell me." Jindra cannot help but watch the two men for a moment. Her eyes narrow on Stalh for a moment and she look back at the bar. She is startled by the mirror when she catches a glimpse of it. She puts her hand to her chest and looks around, hoping noone noticed. A wry look of bemusement creases the diplomat's face. It is while before he responds and his eyes dart around the room for looking at anything while he is silent. Before long however, the look disappears and is replaced by a pleasant smile, "And who told you that General? I was not aware that a lowly attache would be brought to your or anyother General's attention." His eyes start to dart off again, this time however they locate the doctor. He flashes a warm grin at the doctor, one which is not often revealed by Stalh. The mirror's image acquires a faint reddish tinge, which fades after a few minutes. Solo's mouth curls up on one end in a lopsided half-smile, half-smirk. "I've been briefed on our personnel present in this system," he replies, airily vague, apparently quite content to simply lean back and sip that tea, incongruous a beverage it might be for the Corellian. The diplomat nods his head appreciatively, however the nod also suggests that he does not totally believe that. "You must have had many late nights either being told or reading about the personnel on this trip General" he quips. "However, I thought that you were the Ground Operations CO, I think," he looks quickly back to Jindra, wondering why she isn't joining him and Han. "that you would no better of Imperial troop movements than I." He grins, "I make peace General...Not make war." Averting her eyes from the mirror, Jindra catches sight of the diplomat giving her a smile. She attempts to offer the same, subtly greeting. Her smile looks a bit forces however, and she finally takes a seat on the barstool "I'm passingly familiar with the topic," drawls the Corellian. He flicks a glance at the woman who seems to be diverting Stalh's attention, as he speaks. A burst of laughter fills the casino, curtesy of Stalh. "No offence General," he chuckles, "You have been directly or indirectly responsible for the deaths of over 2 million Imperial filth." He smiles, but his chuckle has subsided as he grows a bit more serious. "You know more about war then me most probably...And that," he says gravely, "is alot." According to the mirror wall, Stalh is suddenly dressed in last season's fashion. Without batting an eye, Solo counters, "And Grand Moff Tarkin was responsible for the deaths of several billion residents of Alderaan; you got a point?" He then smiles, unamiably, and repeats, "I'm passingly familiar with the topic." Jindra watches Stalh laughing and she rises from the barstool. She know holds a small blue beverage in her hand. She takes in a breathe and slowly moves toward the pair The irrepressible Stalh ceases to smile, his voice becoming cold. "I am just suggesting that you know more about Imperial threats than you are leading on." He casually looks to the mirror where an image of an exploding star fills the wall, and smiles. "I am just interested in Imperial threats because they endanger the things that the Republic holds dear. Perhaps if we told," he pauses slightly as he looks at the oncoming Jindra. Realising that he is speaking Corellian and not Basic, he continues, "told each other what we know, we could cover all aspects of any threat that comes our way." He stands up as Jindra arrives, as a gentleman should. "Sorry, pal," says Solo, apparently unruffled by the other man's cold tone, "I'm only here to see my wife. Which I plan to do as soon as I finish this tea." He considers, and adds, thinking, _what the hell, it was free_, "And the kaff. Thanks for the free drinks." Solo hasn't risen -- but then, Jindra hasn't come to _his_ table. He does watch the Major's approach, though, his weathered features maintaining their blandly neutral expression. Stalh's reflection on the wall is shadowed by a ghostly . Jindra reaches the table finally. She looks at Han first with a pleasant smile. "General, " She says, not sure if he even knows her. "I am Major Jindra Langri, I hope I am not interupting anything." SHe looks back at Stalh and nods. "I hope not, " she says in his direction. Politely, Han inclines his head to the Major, and observes, "Just a cross-table chat, Major. Evenin'." Stalh shakes his head with a smile as he says with a previously unheard silky voice, "Of course not, Doctor." Jindra sets her drink down. "Would you mind if I joined you?" She looks from one to the other and does not sit yet. "But if you are talking about something important..." The diplomat looks back at Solo, "Anytime for the drinks General." He smiles as he sits down slowly, gazing at Jindra from time to time. "What are credits for huh?" He continues to speak in Corellian to the General as he says, "So you have not heard of anything that might suggest Imperial scum in the area then?" "Pick your table, Major," says Solo, apparently not intent on moving from his. To Stalh's question, he glances left, then glances right, then replies straightfacedly, "Don't see any here." Stalh nods sincerely as he says, "Good. Though I'd keep your eyes out for them," he says with a viscious grin as he reverts back to Basic, "Especially with that Pit Viper, Ol' Cyclops Morganna around." Stalh's reflection on the wall is shadowed by a ghostly . Han's smoothly slid from Corellian into Basic, without effort. "I'll keep that in mind. Would you like some kaff, Major?" Solo tilts his head at the still slightly-steaming, full mug of kaff Calrissian had left on the table. Jindra takes a seat, glancing over at Stalh at the mention of Morganna. Her attention turns to Han as he speaks. Her expression almost automatically lightens when looking from Stalh back to the General. She looks over at the left over kaffe and smiles. "Oh..no thank you, " she says with an amused grin. "I have something thank you." She wraps her hands around her own drink. "Talking about the Ambassador I hear?" "Off and on," replies Solo affably. Stalh grins spitefully, "As minimally as possible, Doctor." He looks the woman over once, and nods slightly in appreciation of what he sees before him. "Let's put it this way, I detest that woman and everything she stands for." He seems sincere, but there is also a heavy overtone of anger in his voice for some reason. He tugs at his collar slightly as he starts to get warm. "Huh," drawls Han, "do you always offer help to people you detest?" Jindra takes a sip of her drink, trying not to appear too interested in what Stalh has to say. With Han's comment, however, her curiousity is sparked again. "You offered to help Mor...I mean the Ambassador?" She arches a brow, she can't see Stalh helping anyone really. A look of shock erupts over the now whitened face of Stalh. "Excuse me General?" he spits, obviously confused about what the hell is going on. "Can you please explain that to me. Basically, so I don't get confused, explain it to me like I'm a five year old. Please." He looks straight at the eyes of the General with a cold hard look. "Please." he spits. "Oh... Morganna...?" asks Solo, blinking guilelessly at Jindra, and then giving Stalh the same sabacc-steady, innocent look. "Sorry, pal. Thought you meant my wife." Various reflections of beings in the room are suddenly outlined in multicolored sparks on the Wall. Stalh shakes his head vehemently, "No General, you lie." he says flatly and coldly. "You said, 'People I detest.' I only mentioned Morganna as a person I detest, not your wife." He looks at the face of the Doctor trying to gauge her emotions, but continues in a viscious tongue. "Tell me what you mean Solo," One may note that it is the first time that Han's official title has been dropped in the conversation, and by now means was it accidental. "I am interested in what you have to say." Jindra grins, hiding the smirk behind her glass. She seems amused to see Stalh so miffed . "Oh, well at least he offered to help someone." She leans back in her seat and looks back at the interesting mirror. "Why do you not like Morganna? Utterly unmoved by Stalh's apparent fury, Han doesn't shift out of his casual lounge in his seat, and replies in perfectly chipper tones, "She said 'Ambassador'. You said you detested 'her'. We'd been talking about my wife before, sooooo.... honest mistake. Words aren't my strong point, pal. Sorry." And with that, he calmly drinks the Princess's abandoned tea. The volcanic rage of Stalh is so apparent that there is a trace of saliva present at the corner of his mouth. "She is Imperial." He says, his tone dripped in acid. "That-Is-Why." He glares back at Solo, and if looks could kill Stalh would be forgiven by the Empire for treachery, for Solo would be yet another corpse. "You do not make mistakes Solo," he continues, "You are too good for that, Sir." His tone become lighter as he regains control over himself. "Now, please, tell me what the b!tch Morganna has been saying about me?" Han_Solo's reflection on the wall is shadowed by a ghostly Ewok. The smile drains from Jindra's face at Stalh's sudden anger. She looks back at the General, she seems quite surprised that Stalh would take such a tone with him of all people. She sets down her glass and glares at Stalh. Solo's eyebrows go up, the only sign he gives of surprise at the younger man's tone. Pausing with the tea en route to his mouth again, he repeats unwaveringly, "Slip of the tongue. It happens. If you think it doesn't happen with me, you haven't been listening to enough of the stories about me." He smiles thinly, and adds, "I haven't talked with this 'Morganna', so I don't know what she might be spreading 'round about you. You two weren't an item or anything, were ya?" "We shall see, we shall see." is all the reply that Stalh gives, a reply if anything, was muttered to himself. "Well then, General," he continues, "why do I detest your wife? If that is what you said you mean? Please, allow me and the lovely doctor here to follow your line of thought." A wry smile appears on the face of Stalh as he says sarcastically, "Please, entertain us." Jindra takes another sip of her drink, not very eager to have Stalh include her in his sarcastic remarks. "I don't think the General is here to entertain, " she says. She looks pleasantly over at Stalh and grins again. "But you are doing quite a good job." Hazel eyes blink a few times, in a sort of 'gosh, we're making a big deal of this, aren't we?' air. And Solo answers in mild amusement, "All I said was wonderin' if you often help out people you detest. I thought you meant Her Highness. I was wrong, 'nuff said." He drinks down a bit more of the tea, then says cheerfully, "If one slip of the tongue makes you this mad, pal, you're in the wrong job. I hear that's generally looked down on for diplomats." According to the mirror wall, Han_Solo is suddenly dressed in last season's fashion. Stalh brings his hands together in front of him and entwines them. He leans forward in a manner that suggests condescending as he speak, "Let me tell you what I told your, /darling precious/ wife," A glint of what can only be evil shines in the green eyes of the vermilion dressed man. "Diplomacy is were the real blood shed of wars are fought, General. It is more callous, cold and murderous than even the End World campaign." He smiles, a smile which to a lesser person looking on would send shivers down the spine. "This is where I truly belong." Nodding to the General, he turns to Jindra. "Entertainment enough for you Doctor?" he asks impassively, not indicating whether he dispises you or not. Nodding, Jindra replies, "Quite thank you." She still does not understand why Stalh would not like the Princess,but she decides to leave that to Han.She looks back at the General for his reply. "If you say so, pal," is all the General says, his expression and eyes giving away absolutely nothing. He finishes off the tea, glances at the kaff, and decides against it. "I wouldn't know." And with that, he stretches, and then gracefully rises, fishing into a pocket for a handful of credits to leave as a tip for the staff. In the mirror wall, a ghostly rancor plows -through- one of the sabacc tables, then blips out. "We shall met again, General," Stalh says coldly while looking at the table, not even bothering to look up as the Republic hero leaves. "We shall met again." Jindra watches Han rise , "Good evening General, good to see you." She nods once and looks back at the table. _Uh huh... yeah, pal, I'll just bet,_ thinks the Corellian. He turns to Jindra and salutes her with military crispness that contradicts his disheveled hair and attire, then tells Stalh, "I'll be counting the hours. 'Night, pal, and don't drink the green stuff here." With that, he ambles off for the exit, the guard on duty, and his blaster to be retrieved. [And thus, Solo heads back out into the station, back to the planet nearby and the _Falcon_... and his wife....] In the small room in which Han finds some sleep between piloting the ship, repairing the ship, defending the ship, and coddling the ship, his wife has stretched out on a cot under a cover of blanket, her clothes puddled by the foot of the bed near her boots. Hair undone and masking her visage, she slumbers with nose pressed to his pillow. He'd promised, and thusly, Han is not too long returning to the _Falcon_, his tread as quiet as he can make it as he slips into the room, glancing around to insure that the Princess is, in fact, here. Spying her, he smiles rather more gently than anyone is liable to see him smile in public, and steals over to the bunk to sit down beside the prone figure, and stroke her hair. A tribute to her fatigue or her natural comfort in Han's company rests in the fact that Leia remains asleep for a few minutes after the Corellian sits beside her. Then, with a softish moan that precedes wakefulness, she stirs and cracks open her dark lashes to peer above her. A slow smile dawns as she murmurs, "How long've you been there?" "Not long," Han murmurs warmly, sliding his fingers through silken dark strands. "Don't get up on my account, Princess." Leia's hand reaches to his, palm across the top of his fingers to caress the sinewy, strong flesh. "I'm glad you're here." Han smiles his lopsided smile, drawing the dainty royal hand up with his own and brushing a kiss across Leia's white fingers. "Couldn't keep away," he tells her, voice low and rich and rumbling, though there's a serious intensity to his eyes. "Besides, D'agor called me in." "Commodor D'agor?" Consciousness asserts itself over fatigue, and Leia leverages herself upward to regard Han more evenly. "Why? Something going on that requires a stronger military presence?" The Corellian doesn't let go of the Princess's hands, his hazel regard resting steadily on her face. "It's planning only, right now," he says gravely. "But he and Mon Mothma apparently want me here." Impatiently pushing her hair from her eyes, Leia asks directly, "You don't know why you're wanted here? Did you bring any troops, more ships, what?" "Pride-1," is all that Han says, "and I've brought three squads -- but they don't know what's going on. They're here for security, as far as they're concerned." He clasps both of Leia's hands in his, a directness to his features, a purpose, that hasn't been there in some time. "It's planning only, now, like I said -- but it's more secure to have me here in person." "Well, it's about time," says the princess crossly, adding in a growing seeth, "I ran into that Imperial ambassador yesterday, and they were unrelenting toward the Griffons and Pride-1. I don't know how I could have expected otherwise. If it would help, I'd fly an X-wing there myself and help kick them out. Oooh, but I hate a gloating Imperial." "Tell me about her," Han requests. "And that other one, too. Had a few very interesting words with him, before I came back." Leia, shaking her head, lets out a gusty breath and a shred of sharpish temperment before answering, "Stalh is a planet-sized pain. And I don't trust him a bit. He came here a few months back having just left the Empire...something about his family, I expect. Well, for all I can tell he's still got that Imperial attitude, even if he swears he wants to work tirelessly toward eradicating the Empire. He's vocally disrespectful and critical of the Council, especially of me, and he...I don't know, Han. I've had plenty of people call me names, but he is dangerous. I really think he is." The Corellian takes all this in, rubbing Leia's palms with his thumbs as he does, but listening with that same intensity that glints in his sharp hazel gaze. "He came over to me after you and Lando left," he observes. "Tried to play it smooth, first -- asked if anything was wrong and if we were having some kind of 'crisis'." His mouth curls up crookedly again, but this time it's more smirk than smile. "Then he wanted to know if there was any Imperial 'threat' he ought to know about." Briskly Leia insists, "Don't tell him anything, Han. He's too ambitious to trust with a scrap of information." Han's smirk broadens into a feral smile. "I told him I didn't see any Imperials in Karrde's joint." The lines relax on Leia's face as she chuckles, then admits, "I really am glad you're here. If nothing else but to remind me there's a reason I'm enduring all the ..." She struggles for the right word and comes up lamely with, "hassle I've seen since we arrived." Han leans over to press a kiss to Leia's brow, and his eyes lighten, his gaze still intent, but warmer. "I'll help keep my fellow rabble from your door," he promises wryly. "And I think you're right, this Stalh _doesn't_ seem to like you -- and when I prodded him on it, real, real interesting how torked off he got." Leia's brown eyebrow slides toward her hairline. "Oh?" "Yeah," drawls Han, apparently very amused, if sardonically so. "Another one of our people came into the Keepon after you and Lando left -- a Major. Uh, Major Langri. She doesn't like Stalh either, from the way she acted around him. But she mentioned that Morganna woman... and Stalh claimed he detested her and everything she stood for. Now, this, sweetheart, was all _real_ fascinating, given he'd just been offering his help to me with the alledged 'crisis' you and I were havin'... so I asked him if he often helped people he detests. He blew up." And his smile broadens into a self-satisfied grin. "Not _my_ fault I thought he still meant you when he said 'Ambassador', right?" Leia rolls her eyes but cannot resist a smile when she remarks wryly, "You do have a way with people, General. But that leads me back to wondering just what he wants and what he intends to do. Away from the Empire he's powerless, more or less; he doesn't hvae any political clout, he seems to be without support and without friends. I can't help thinking there's more to him than that and I should watch my back around him. Maybe I should take up the Navy's offer after all." "What offer was this...?" Han's eyebrows go up. _Good going, Leia_. She frowns to herself and says dismissively, "Nothing," before making a sally to change the topic. "How long will you be here?" Han Solo is not so easily deflected, however. "Long enough to get an answer to my question," he parries, tugging at the hands he holds by way of punctuation. "Some of the security officers here think I need an escort." Leia, from her tone, apparently considers this useless and idiotic. "I told them to follow Mon Mothma around." "They got reason to think you should have an escort?" demands the Corellian, his still-sharp gaze taking in every nuance of stress and tiredness in his wife's features. Leia counters, "They must if they're insistent. I think it's being overly cautious, and if I needed one, I'd have one, wouldn't I?" "I think that's probably the _point_, Princess," Han states, frowning. Leia tries innocence now. "What's the point?" "Your _safety_," counters the Corellian, immediately. He lifts his hands to Leia's cheeks, cupping them between his palms -- and conveniently turning her gaze to be held by his. "Tell me straight, Your Highnessness. Do you think you're safe here?" Here is a question putting Leia between the Sarlaac and the Great Dune Sea. If she denies it, she is lying and potentially putting herself at risk...but placating her husband; if she agrees, she will live with Han or several of his men following her every step and giving her no peace. She clears her throat delicately, studies those wonderful hazel eyes, and admits, "I don't know. The longer I'm here...I don't know." He doesn't like this; that's quite evident in the spark in his eye, the set of his weathered features. But if there's anything Han knows about the woman before him, it's that she knows what risks are reasonable and which aren't. Grudgingly, he rumbles, "I'm gonna trust you not to do anything stupid, okay? _I'm_ the one that's supposed to be pulling damnfool stunts." "It isn't a matter of me being foolish or stupid, Han," Leia breathes, suggesting her weariness is more of the mental and emotional variety than physical. "It's a matter of sensing something wrong here. I can't put my finger on it." "Just as long as the 'wrong' isn't some malcontent about to blow your lovely head off your lovely neck," Han growls lowly. At this point her beloved husband becomes entirely unreasonable, but she asks a bit tightly, "Well, what do you want me to do? Walk around with a dozen Naval security men and stay away from any Imperials or dark alleys?" "I want," replies Han gruffly, "for you to not have that lovely head blown off." He considers, then his expression softens a little, and he goes on, "I trust you." Leia tells him appeasingly, "Han, there are always dozens of people around. No sane person would try anything in that sort of a crowd. Besides, I'm too valuable alive to kill." "There's things as bad as killing you, sweetheart," Han rasps. He doesn't bother to elaborate -- he expects Leia could testify herself to what she must have gone through when he'd been captured... and then Luke. Then, he abruptly pulls the Princess to him, wrapping his arms around her, and he then lowers them both down to the bunk, holding her close. "C'mere, huh? Anybody wanna escort you tonight, they're gonna hafta go through me...." [End log.]