Begin Intel Operation Codenamed - Girl Nextdoor

[Estelle Russard]

The shuttle Z-736 from Reunemar Station decellerated almost imperceptibly as it prepared for approach to West City Central. Estelle noted the shift of speed with automatic attention to the details of her surroundings.

She did that alot these days. Notice things - details, apparent inconsequentials. And had, in fact, been trained to do so in such a way that it had become second nature to her and that it would be difficult, if not impossible, to switch off to it.

Like all well-trained agents, Estelle was aware that she was never really 'off the clock.' When not on an active mission, an agent was still always in perpetual 'live' mode. There was no down-time as in other vocations. Downtime, by design, led one to believe there was complete and uninteruptible and unchangeable safe circumstances. A chance to relax and be unguarded, even complacent. The life of an Intel Operative had no such luxury. None. Ever. And Estelle's training had been the best. She knew that even an innocuous shuttle journey could hold danger, or even an opportunity for the vigilant agent.

Recruited into the Rebel Alliance Intelligence Corp by Grace Van Derveld and Yun Tilgraze upon the heels of the death of her boyfriend, James, Estelle had embraced a new life upon the wrenching away of her old one.

That night had changed her forever. The heartbreak of it had dulled over time, as Grace had promised it would. The past year had been too full of body-numbing physical conditioning and mind-bending psychological strengthening exercises during her training to dwell in a prolonged state of grief at James' slaying by Inquititoriate forces.

Estelle often thought of James. And missed him still. But the awful loss she had experienced in those early months had faded now to a melancholy lonliness whenever she thought of him.

A soft smile came to her as she thought how proud he would be that she was finally acting like a responsible grownup. He had always teased her for being a pampered little daddy's girl.

The shuttle slowed further and Estelle watched on as passengers around her, who now also noticed the slowing of the transport, gathered together jackets, purses, paperbacks, and other travel items in readiness to disembark. An overall generalised motion took over the craft as people shifted and wriggled in their seats. A sense of eagerness to be on one's way excited the air.

Turning toward the window, she saw the Tarkin Institute of Art & Technology glide past. Her old stomping grounds brought a small pang of tenseness to her belly. This was where it all began.

And where it would begin again.

A few moments later, a bump heralded their arrival as the transport stopped and rested against the terminal landing. A light over the doorframe flipped from red to green and with a hiss of hydraulics the shuttle doors whooshed apart, inviting all to exit into the great world of opportunity awaiting them in fantastic Imperial City.

[Estelle Russard]

One of the last to exit the shuttle, Estelle preferred to let the initial crush of bodies thin before she, too, made good her departure.

The hubub of the terminus was shortly exchanged for the bustledom of the city as she stepped from the busy building and out into the street.

Sunshine glared off every surface causing her to crinkle her eyes protectively while fingering her jacket pocket for her sunglasses. Finding them, she pushed them up the bridge of her nose and enjoyed the instant relief. She estimated it must be just past noon. A quick glance at her wrist chrono confirmed it. 12:08. Her stomach rumbled, growling in agreement that it was indeed lunch time.

Estelle calculated that she had time for a quick bite before she stopped at the University registration office to drop off her application and then on to her apartment, the first visit she had a chance to take to it since her father had signed its lease. After all that had happened, Estelle could not take up residence again in the school dormitory. At least, that was the story she had given her father when requesting he find a little place for her upon her return. In truth, Estelle needed a place of her own that was secure, quiet, and most important of all, private. Her father, of course, had wasted no time in finding a place for her.

A shrill bell trilled beside her and she stepped gingerly to the right to allow a bicycle courier to power past her. Old school, she smiled. Some still preferred to stick to the simpler things available in life. It was a good mode of transport in the congested inner city, if one didn't have to go too far, or too fast.

The walking felt good, though Estelle felt warm despite the lightweight material of her jacket. It was a bit strange to be back in the city again. Not too much had changed that she had noticed so far. The droidcleaners on the corner was no longer there, in its place was a hat store. And Pepe's Paints had expanded to take over half the tatoo parlor beside it, doubling in size. Other than that, it all was very much the same as when she had left it.

She suddenly craved a crisp salad with little peices of mandarin in it and knew just the place. Picking up her step a little Estelle looked ahead three blocks toward Mantiga Cafe.

Next stop, lunch.

[Araib Musbunig]

Coruscant was big, clogged and stuffy--sort of like Whiphid snot. Traffic bustled through the sky lanes across the Imperial Center, leaving enough room in the heavens for the shuttles to plummet gracefully from space. Much of the chaos was annoying for tourist, much less those on business ventures, but to Araib it was just another planet.

Over the past few years he had managed to swindle, wiggle, blast, rumble, stumble and blow his way into a freight load of planets. In many ways he was living the life he expected of himself. Stepping in his father's spacer boots, and saddling up for adventures that could not be packed in the number of treasures he collected along his path. The center of the Imperial operation was just another ball of dust he let meet his feet.

Hopefully, like all the other places he could grab something to remember it from. What he had in mind was some grub. At least first.

Blasting through the traffic, he switched swiftly through the congested lanes. Over the stammer of his faulty engine he heard complaints sail through his ears in more language than a protocol droid could process. All he could do is chuckle in reply. Making people mad was just another one of his great talents.

The speeder came to a skip-and-halt as it neared it's destiny. An Old Republica Narglatch XJ-2 it was, and it definately wasn't in any condition to be used. Those starports never had the best agencies for used speeders, especially when Araib came into town.

After allowing the airspeeder to calm, he leaped out. A glance left only two words crossing his eyes. "Mantiga Café," he read.

"Time to eat!"

[Estelle Russard]

About the same time that Araib Musbunig was manuevering his way through Imperial City traffic, a server in Mantiga Cafe was doing much the same, and just as caverlierly, through the crowded tables of the restaurant.

While traffic always seemed at its peak in the great metropolis, noon was the 'rush' hour for the restaurant and the rush was in full swing. It was not uncommon for strangers to be seated together at a table at this time of the day, the luxury of solo dining firmly ousted in the establishment's grand pursuit of clientele credit.

And so it was that as Estelle placed her order, she was reminded by the waiter that the chair opposite her was 'open' and the probability of her being joined by another patron was high. The young rebel gave an unconcerned shrug - she did not plan to linger long.

Looking around, she could see a number of tables that were in just such a situation. Two parties completely unknown to one another eating in silence, heads down toward their plates and ignoring what was right in front of them. Seemed to Estelle that citizens of Coruscant had made the ability of chosing not to see what was right in front of them into a fine art..

"No problem" she remarked. "Ill have the Mandarin Sunrise Salad and an Iced tea, please." The server sent off her order via a little handheld pad and briskly moved on to the next table.

Sitting back in her chair, Russard occupied herself by people-watching. She already knew where both exits were, and had summed up the restaurants patrons, pigeonholing them into degrees of threat or danger in an organized list within her head upon her original arrival to the eatery. Basic training. Throughout her meal, she would continually reassess and update that mental list with disciplined regularity. Again, basic training.

With an eye on the door, she was not, therefore, surprised when a newcomer was led toward her and seated without announcement. A brief nod of acknowledgement was all the sign she gave that she had even noticed the new arrival.

[Araib Musbunig]

Araib sat, but he was not at ease. The greeter was courteous, and nice, but he felt his nerve jumping as the beat of hearts echoed throughout the room. It was not the volume of the hearts, but the beings, which held them. For the most part, the patrons were a field of humans. It was only to be expected, the place was the Imperial center, yet it was a sudden switch from the norm amidst space.

Pirates of all kind and heritages flung themselves into unique adventures. Very few Neimoidians of course, but the spacer life was that of diversity and species were never a subject of conversation besides the occasional good-hearted joke. Yet here, he sat in disturbance. One slight move could leave a blaster bolt to his head. For some reason, he just did not belong.

Then he was saved.

A simple gesture could do a lot. The wave of a hand from a Hutt could leave a person on their death bed, or in bed with an overwhelming amount of exotic woman. It was always the simple things that counted in this galaxy, and the Twi'lek knew it. Before Araib could leave on counts of anxiety, he saw a slight nod from across the table. Araib had been engulfed in the terror of the room and he had almost forgot the clutter of the room. People across the cafe were a top each other, some unfamiliar, and without a word exchanged. Yet here he caught a nod.

It was abnormal...weird...he didn't know how to reply. The motion was subtle, nonchalant, but it eased him. Finally he was acknowledged. He was apart of the bunch.

"Hey there," he muttered at first. Although he could breathe now, he carried an uncharacteristically shy nature to his voice. Still he feared of the possible wrongs that may spur from a conversation. People just did not seem to be sociable enough to talk with a stranger in such a formal place. The fact that he even muttered, in all his awkward shyness, gave him a confidence.

Despite his obvious Twi'lek dissidence, he stood out now. The thought made him smile. Being unique was always fun.

"I mean...how are you doing?" He asked. Finally his voice returned, and the murmur mistaken for his conversational voice faded. In replacement was a stern, masculine tone. Hopefully he could spark something here, despite the disinterest found in the woman's eyes. She seemed to be tracking far more important things than a Twi'lek smuggler.

[Estelle Russard]

"Im doing fine, thankyou" Estelle responded, a little surprised by the stranger's williness to open in conversation despite his obvious shyness and the trend most locals adopted in this set-up as previously mentioned.

"Are you quite well?" she inquired, "you appear a little...um.." What did he appear? Nervous wasn't the correct word. Agitated wasn't either. Estelle labelled it to herself as more 'awkward' than anything, but how do you say that to someone you havent even met?

She posed the question again, dispensing with how he appeared and simply asked "Are you ok?"

[Araib Musbunig]

The Twi'lek's brow lifted. The man was utterly perplexed and taken aback by the question. Yet, in his eyes he showed no sense of offense. She was the one looking upon him, but what confused his mind was the blatant uneasiness. How could he have not held back.

"I'm fine," He responded. The room was once more taken in his orbs as he took another scan. More people had clamored in, and they were human. Like he could have expected anything else.

"Just that there are a lot of..." He hesitated. This woman was a human as well, but in the end what did he care. He only had one life to live, and holding even his feelings back would only cause pain. "Humans here."

[Estelle Russard]

Estelle allowed her eyes to roam the room as if seeing the occupants for the first time and allowed a rueful smile.

Her tone on reply was one of amusement rather than offence, which may have been expected from such an observation as Araib had made.

"Well, yes I suppose there are. You've come to the wrong planet centre if you were hoping to avoid the species. I take it you're not so fond of us?"

[Araib Musbunig]

A smile perked up underneath his nose, pressing at his cheeks subtly. The conversation was beginning nicely, instead of the abrupt outburst he expected. Some people just were not sociable, and happily Araib was not part of the catergory.

"Of course, I hate you guys!" He roared, ensuring that his voice didn't escape too far. If a stranded Imperial sworn citizen would have heard, it would have been his lekku on some mantle. How he would hate such a thing.

A chuckle rumbled from his belly, as he leaned carefully back in his chair.

"Of course not. I have no problems with any...species. Just so many of one race could make someone uncomfortable." He took one last gander, as if to refer to the cafe's audience once more. "I need diversity--what about you?"

"Do you hate us?"

Araib asked with knowledge of the answer. He was certain she didn't. Most Imperial sworn citizens would have no involvement with Twi'lek, no matter their features. People had been awash by the propoganda, albeit the fact that only three decades ago everyone was happy-go-lucky. Human Leagues had been around for ages, but the xenophobia of the Empire was horrific, and this woman was far from horrid.

[Estelle Russard]

"Hate - such a strong word." She pooh-poohed the notion.

Her remark was made with deliberate dismissal. Spoken lightly and without passion, it disguised the fact that deep beneath Estelle's friendly exterior there was a steel rod of emotion that fuelled her. Every decision she had made since James' death had been a result of anger and hatred for the regime that had killed him. The great lie that was the Empire - if there was one thing she hated, it was that.

The young rebel, however, kept focus on the current conversation.

"No, I dont hate you. I am curious, however, I admit.." The server interupted Estelle, placing her ordered salad and drink on the table.

Estelle waited good manneredly whilst the server turned to Araib to ask him what he would like. Both parties noticed the twi'lek had not yet opened his menu.

[Araib Musbunig]

The whole ordeal had flooded his mind. He forgot his place, his time, everything, and the conversation didn't allow him to focus much on his stomach much. Even while his laughter rumbled in his empty stomach, he couldn't recognize his own hunger. That was a rarity. Although his figure was far from hefty, he did have another side to him when it came to food.

Grabbing the menu, he left only a calm finger for the server. The trademark lengthy nails of his finger pointed at the man, indicating him to wait as he continued to look over the meals. There was a lot, but he frequently looked in the same category every time.

Meat, he thought.

"I'd like the Jerked Dewback Meat, with a side of Blue sauce and a salad with Rillirrnnn seeds."

Before Araib could think, the server was gone with his menu and left only a nod to be remembered. Araib could care less, he was more interested in the woman across the table.

"So, your interested in what, Miss...?" He said, as his eyes shifted back to the anonymous gal.

[Estelle Russard]

There was a momentary pause as Estelle forked some crisp salad into her mouth, chewed and swallowed before replying.

"Im curious as to what brings you to Imperial City. Or this part of it atleast. I assume you are new to the area?" this assumption being based on the twi'leks reaction to the restaurants patrons, something he seemingly had not anticipated.

Araib may not have been aware that Estelle was conducting an interview of sorts. A general fact-gathering about the individual opposite her. As an agent, she viewed the majority of individuals she might encounter as possible assetts, but only a very few select would actually pass her criteria for such. Right now, Araib was getting the prelimenary and most rudimentary of her screening process.

"Are you a long way from home?"

[Araib Musbunig]

Home.

He thumbed at the word, as did he do with his unused fork. Normally just the touch would have struck a thought of food, but his mind was lost in nostalgia. A specific time, potent to his potion in which he heard of space, instead of moved within it. The days when he looked at the stars, without a chance to grab at one. Much had changed since then.

"Every place I go is my home," He responded. Grabbing up the fork, he reordered it with the other utensil just to keep his hands busy. Normally they were in all kind of things, either gripping a steering wheel, pushing a button or something. Although he was at ease, habits were hard to kill.

"I'm only here on work. Not the first time..." The Twi'lek glanced about quickly. "Just the first time I've been in this district."

Araib softly chuckled at that. The people around him normally cracked him up, with all their formalities and foolish behaviors. It was almost borderline stupid, from his eyes, that some guy could sit right near each other and avoid a conversation. On what preference? Solitude?

Such a word carried far too much meaning for him. Amidst space, without a crew to call his own, he had to deal in isolation far too long to maintain sanity. At times he even felt he was going to burst as he flew across the sky. Maybe that was why he mingled in the public, celebrated and social crowd. They kept him from falling off the face of the galaxy and into a world no man should go.

When is that food coming? He wondered. The server was certainly taking his time. Hopefully he was not spitting in his food.

[Estelle Russard]

..."Every place I go is my home"....

So, he was a drifter.

Estelle sipped her iced tea.

The potential for information gathering through a roaming contact had its merits, but also had its perils. What kind of individual didn't have a home base - his own niche or safe place? One that did not want to be easily located, thats who.

Was the twi'lek on the run? No - he was too visible a mark and would be easily apprehended thudding his way about the City as he is.

Criminal then? More likely, Estelle speculated. That too had pro's and con's as an asset. It would be a trickey thing to juggle using someone such as that. His knowledge and expertise would be a plus, but he would also be more high risk simply by such an association.

Estelle continued eating her salad, her mind weighing and measuring in cool methodidgy. The twi'lek was an easy-going type, that much was obvious. If he was a hardened underworld operator, he was revealing a more sensitive side to his nature to Estelle. He laughed easily and showed a certain sentimentality in his reply about his home.

Interesting.

Estelle gestured towards the reorganized utensils and the longing glances for the server, "You look hungry" she laughed as she reassured him, "they are pretty quick here. Your dewback takes a while to cook. You did want it cooked, right?"

[Araib Musbunig]

The young spacer watched as she diligently ate. An impatience ran across his face as he observed in silence. She seemed more hungry than he, at least his stomach believed. Every person in the café eating just added to his torture, but he kept at a lull. A slight movement could easily trigger a conflict. Complaints would not help either. He would just have to wait.

Even as she suggested at the hasty speed of the food deliverance, his mouth watered. Only his expressions could be kept at bay, but his mind still fumbled with the idea of grabbing his fork and stabbing it in the closest meal.

It was best to think about other things. Food would only make him angry as long as it was not before him. Instead, he thought about her statement. The woman reserved a confidence to her speech, and intelligence too. He liked that, who with good sense wouldn't?

"Cooked? Well...maybe." He smirked.

"But that salad. Is it good?" Araib's mind slipped again. The food in the café just looked too good to ignore.

[Estelle Russard]

"Very good. One of my favorites"

Estelle paused long enough between mouthfuls to register Araib's look and protectively drew her plate closer to her with one finger.

Her precaution was unnecessary, however, as the server appeared at that moment with a large oval platter that required two hands to carry and plonked it down without ceremony infront of the smuggler.

Slightly relieved, Estelle resumed eating and forked the last remnents of her salad into her mouth.

A quick check at her chrono revealed it was almost time to continue on her course for the day. With that in mind, she set to work in getting some form of contact information or a way in which to see this enigmatic stranger again with prospects to further investigate his usefulness.

"I never did catch your name. I am Estelle" she made to reach forward her hand in greeting, but thought better of it. Araib had taken up knife and fork and was carving gingerly into his steak. He had a particularly unnerving glint of devouring in his eyes.

[Araib Musbunig]

The knife and fork ripped at the steak, displaying the tenderness. For Araib's eyes it was almost too much to look upon. A lust took over him, and in a twitch he stuffed the meaty carcass in his mouth. Araib's teeth went to work, grinding from side to side. Every bug on his tongue became active as the meat was broken down with the raw combination of his teeth and mucus. The smuggler's fleshy green cheeks poked further out as the clumps of meat poked out and was flung effortlessly from the other side for another thrashing of the teeth. The meat had lost horribly, and was quickly devoured down to it's ditch in the Twi'lek's throat.

Throughout the tenure of his bites, he observed Estelle. She had finally introduced herself, but all she did was remind him of his own horrible manners. Over the whole conversation he had forgotten to drop his name. It probably seemed like he was just blabbering off at the mouth. However, he knew better to show his content, and continued to smile. Although he took the meat like a savage, he was safe from the embarrassment of it being found between his sharp fangs.

"I'm Araib. Araib Musbunig." For a second he let his fork rest beside his plate, and gazed upon the woman for a moment. "So, what did you come to this cafe alone for?

"I'm sure it was not to meet new people." He smiled, glancing across the room once more. How pathetic they were.

[Estelle Russard]

Estelle, blinking back her disapproval of Araib's tablemanners, (she'd never seen anyone chow-down so lustily. It bordered on the primal and was all she could do not to turn away. Yuck.) She focused instead on her reply.

"Oh Ive just returned back to the district and am re-enrolling at the University. I took some time off" she added by way of explanation.

"I will be resuming studies part-time and have already been assured of acceptance. The paper work is just a formality, really"

The server skipped past, deftly dropping off Estelle's bill, which she picked up and glanced over.

"Do you think you will get to come back to this district often, Araib? For your work, I mean"

[Araib Musbunig]

"...For your work, I mean"

Araib tumbled on those words. He had mostly avoided judgement throughout the conversation, but those words caught him.

In his own trap he began fumbling with ideas. The fact that she even added it in held a divine purpose. She had a reason for such a caculated addition, but Araib knew better than to stay silent. It was disrespectful, much less suspicious. Throughout his contemplation he had been staring at her, without a twitch.

Finally, he blinked, and released himself of his thoughts.

"You never did ask about my work, Estelle..."

[Estelle Russard]

"I didn't want to pry. You already made clear humans weren't on your top ten list of 'likeables' and I figured plain old nosey ones you would like even less"

She smiled at him, her comment teasing a slight blush from his cheeks.

[Araib Musbunig]

Araib did not mind teasing. At times he liked it, but it had provided a sudden shift from his movement into seriousness. Her words only left him to opt back to his casual nature. Maybe she did it purposely, maybe not. There was very little time to think, however. All he could focus on was stopping his greens cheeks from turning red.

Hiding his face with a quick snatch and grab of the bill, he covered up his smile.

"Let me pay, you vile human," he said, letting out a chuckle. How easily he could be killed if his words passed further into the clutter room. It was safe though, most people in the place did not even notice the person across from them, much less a meaningless Twi'lek with prestige in far more rural versions of a cafe.

"Plus you talked to me. I got the mind call you in for that." Placing the paper down, he readied his money. Supplying a wide grin, until his eyes squeezed into slits. Araib slap the card on the table and awaited the servers return with his bill.

[Estelle Russard]

So....no elaboration on his occupation was forthcoming.

Estelle often found that beings naturally liked to talk about themselves given any opportunity, and the less one asked, the more they felt free to volunteer. Unless, like herself, they had things they did not want known about themselves. In which case, they did one of two things. 1. Said nothing or 2. Said alot of words without giving away anything at all, deflecting from the fact that for all their talking, they gave no real information whatsoever.

Araib had done the first, allowing the fact that Estelle did not actively pursue an answer to be the end of the topic.

Araib was a criminal of some sort - or atleast he was up to shadey dealings in some degree or another - Estelle felt almost certain. The idea that he might be a spy himself briefly crossed her mind, but she rejected it. So much of her skills had to be put down to simple 'gut-feeling.' Instincts, Yun Tilgraze might say, but it was the same thing. Sometimes, you just know.

Estelle protested, "No, really - it is not necessary for you to pay my bill" she tugged at the paper beneath Araib's hand. "In fact, if you insist, I will be left no course but to repay the favor some time."

[Araib Musbunig]

Araib smirked at the thought.

"If I pay for your's, it'd be only right if I see you again." Araib leaned forward, pushing his finger on the paper. Sliding it back from underneath her hand, he let a wink blink his left eye.

It was in need of some rest, for at least a millisecond. He had been so anxious about the people around him that he had forgot to blink a few times.

"Plus, if you pay for mine, it will cost more." He grinned with a pack of innocence sparkling his teeth.

[Estelle Russard]

"Then it seems we have ourselves a lunch date"

Estelle stood up from the table, pleased with the outcome of the meeting. A completely natural development for a next meeting, in the meantime she would have time to do a little background checking on Mr. Musbunig.

"I usually come here Fridays for lunch," (which wasn't true at the moment, but she would make true to reconnect again) "..so perhaps one week will coincide with one of your visits?"

She smiled down at him, knowing he would not miss the deliberate ambiguous reference to his work.

[Araib Musbunig]

Araib smiled up at Estelle. She was not very tall, but she carried a sense of elegance about her that made his smile all the brighter. He would hopefully last another week on the planet to see her again. Normally he took large breaks between his jobs, so there was always time.

Jumping up from his seat, he landed his hands in his pockets. The payments would be made as soon as she left. No need in getting into financial aspects when everything seems fine.

"I should be around. Maybe next time, we can talk a little bit more." Araib grinned. "Plus, there is very little I know about you.

And even less you know about me."

The smile soon faded, and all was left for movement was a nod. She would be on her way, and he on his soon enough. The day would go on, and he would have to get in contact with some people about the shipment.

[Estelle Russard]

"...I should be around. Maybe next time, we can talk a little bit more." Araib grinned. "Plus, there is very little I know about you. And even less you know about me...."


"Then we shall have to work on that next time wont we" she qualified with a warm smile, "..if we are to be friends."

Turning and moving adroitly through the busy restaurant toward the exit, Estelle felt a pinprick of shame touch her heart as she left Araib behind her, reaching into his pockets for the necessary credits to pay their bill.

...Friends...

She knew friendship had nothing to do with what she had in mind. Araib would not be a friend. Friends do not use each other for selfish purposes. Or expose them to possible dangerous circumstances, risking them without their own knowledge in the pursuit of information that may assist anothers personal cause. Being a rebel "asset" was exactly that. A means to an end. A tool only.

God, it was so coldblooded.

True, most assets never knew what they had become, and as many never had the slightest inckling of what they were ignorantly involved in. What one doesn't know wont hurt them, right? Those few who unfortunately found out.. well...lets just say they, didnt hurt for long.

Estelle knew being an agent involved difficult choices. Every agent had to make them. And the best ones did not linger in sentimental self-rebuke over them.

And so, Intel Operative Estelle Russard - code name Ophelia - squashed the guilt she felt and cooly exited the cafe, eyes forward mind already moving to the next task at hand.

[Estelle Russard]

The stop at the University took less time than anticipated.

Still there at her post, was the same beady-eyed secretary who ran the office. Her condescension to all who passed beneath the bridge of her steel-rim spectacles perched precariously on the end of her nose, had not waned in the year since Estelle had been gone.

Leaning haughtily over the counter that divided the world into two parts - her part, and then everyone elses - the secretary ruled her domain with that imperiousness unique to such individuals as hold a small degree of power and abuse it with impunity. One did not step past the counter of the beady-eyed secretarty. One did not slouch on the counter, nor call over the counter. One simply stood to attention and waited in submissive silence until the beady-eyed secretary deigned to turn her attention to one.

Fortunately for Estelle, there was not a lineup. Lineups to the counter were very bad and boded ill for the unfortunate who happened to be last. The beady-eyed secretary didn't particularly like students, and too many at one time pushed her reserves to the limit.

But, as mentioned, there was no lineup this day. Upon duly waiting the secretary's pleasure, Estelle finally got a chance to speak and explain the reason she was there.

But that speech was cut short.

"I'm well aware Mizz Ruzzard of why you've come. You father is not without his influence here at the University"

Estelle felt the emphasis put on her name was uncalled for, but chose the more prudent course of keeping quiet about it.

"...And I cannot say that I agree with the ease with which you return."

Not bothering to say that she did not care what the secretary did or didn't agree with, Estelle produced a handful of documents - a letter from her doctor stating Estelle was not to take on a stressful amount of work until reviewed in 6 months time; a personal data sheet necessary for updating her profile with the University record; and a credit receipt for the years tuition fees paid in full. These she handed over with a cheery smile, which the secretary took with a snap and documented into her own system.

A few minor exchanges more with the secretary - which made Estelle wonder how the woman had ever lived so long and not been stabbed to death by some exasperated student armed with a HB pencil or a pen - and Rusard left the University grounds, walking the six blocks to her apartment.

The day was warm and the afternoon sun still had a lot of strength to it. Her sunglasses donned once more, and her jacket now removed and foldedover her arm, Estelle checked her chrono.

The walk took total of 16 minutes to cover the six blocks and she passed two cafe's, 4 bookstores and 2 laundr-o-mats. Estelle made mental notations of each one in turn and filed it away in her memory.

Her apartment was on the 137th floor of the Westfield Tower, located on the corner of Johnson and Theed Avenues, apartment 1379.

Tapping in the access and security alarm override code on the door panel, the door to Estelle's new home swished open to reveal a bright and airy living space.

To one side of the front room which was comfortably furnished with sofa, tables, lamps etc, were numerous boxes, all clearly labelled as Estelles belongings. The boxes, as was the apartment was courtesy of her father. He had done everything he could to make her return easy for her. It went without saying that he had missed her a great deal during her long absence from home.

Jason Russard had thought his daughter was off "finding herself' and nursing her grief this past year. Which was partly true, but mostly not. While Estelle was learning the techniques of breaking into a heavily guarded facilty, or how to kill a man in absolute silence, her father had been worrying if his daughter was surviving alright away from his nurturing care.

Estelle smiled sadly as she checked over the rest of the apartment. Her father was everywhere - vases of flowers in each room, photographs from home of loved ones place on tables and windowsills. A mood of melancholy stole over the young rebel.

Sitting on the deep sofa, the filtered sunlight warming her shoulders and back, Estelle took from her purse a square flat unit resembling a disc case. It was one item she never let far from her sight.

Placing the unit on the low coffee table before her, she pressed a rectangular cushioned pad with an arrow indicating play. Immediately springing up from the square was a holographic image. This image every 2 or 3 seconds changed. At first it was the cliffs of Naboo with the fabulous cascading waterfalls. After that, a glorious sunset sky over the city skyline of Coruscant. Next, the luminescent springs of the Dathomir jungles, or sunrise over the sand plains of Tattooine. And so on. The image morphed from one beautiful scene-scape to another taking the viewer to some of the most remote and untouchable places in the galaxy.

Estelle sat for some time, watching. Then, taking a paper thin encription-card from her wallet, she inserted it into one of the side seams of the unit. She pushed the small cushion play button in a pre-set rhythm and the holographic image changed yet again.

Estelle leaned forward, smiling softly at the familiar image presented and listened to a message she now knew almost by rote...




ooc: please wait for next poster. thx.

[Oriadin]

The holographic image flickered slightly as there must have been some interference whilst the message was being recorded. A Jedi knight could be seen.

"Estelle, by the time you get this message I would have gone. Its become too dangerous for me to stay here. As you know the purge on the Jedi means disappearing into the crowd has become a necessity. There are dangerous times ahead for everyone.

On top of that, this is a difficult time for you, and its imperative that you do not give over to your emotion. The loss of James will fuel your anger and entice you to seek revenge on those who have done you wrong. Always remember who you are, and where you've come from. Going on some rampage will not ease your pain. Always remember your focus determines your reality. You will never solve problems by being rash, only when you learn to be calm and mindfull of your feelings will you be ready to fullfill what it is you need to do.

Its been a pleasure to be in your company, and I feel it won't be too long before we meet again. There is no such thing as being to carefull. Watch your back and be carefull who you trust.

Now, with out further Delaya , I must be on my way.

Oh, and in answer to your question, by favorite read would have to be... 'One After Mirrored Rimohtad' (http://www.answers.com/topic/list-of-star-wars-planets-c-d)

Enjoy, and until then, farewell."

With that, the holographic image flickered out.

[Estelle Russard]

Russard sat hunched forward, her chin resting upon steepled fingers, still seeing the holographic image in her minds eye though Oriadin's form had flickered into vacant air.

That line about her going on a rampage never failed to summon a sheepish grin. Not that she could really picture herself on such a blood thirsty bender, but lord knows there were times when she felt like she really might, and that she would feel the better for it. Perhaps Oriadin knew what he was talking about and the idea wasnt really such a stretch.

....Delaya....

The planet had frequently come to mind ever since she understood the clue Oriadin had left her in his message. Could she take the time, now, to find him?

The last they had spoken had been when she left to go into intensive training and he to disappear from the dangers dwelling in Imperial City presented to one of the outlawed. Jedi were very few and even further between and Estelle wondered at how Oriadin coped with the isolation and lonliness living a life in hiding cost a person. Her own life was now to become one of hiding, only she would be doing so in plain sight. Both scenario's held their cost, she knew.

Estelle leaned back to rest against the comfort of the sofa, the heat of the sun's rays which had permeated through the cloth radiated into her body.

It would be good to see him again.

She unfolded her schedule that the beady-eyed secretary had printed off for her. Ten days until she was expected in class, seven until she was to connect again with Araib at the Mantiga Cafe. So, one week to find a lone Jedi - an expert at survival as proven by his having made it thus far. With just a planet to go on, Russard knew that all inquiries after him would have to be completely circumspect in order not to draw the very attention he laboured to avoid.

Not an easy task, but she did have seven days.

Estelle reached forward and took up the holographic unit, removed the encription card and returned it to her purse.

Catching up her jacket once more, Russard had a few things to get finished today before she could in good conscience take off for a planet she'd never been to and a destination that wasn't yet clear.

She set the lock and alarm code as the apartment door closed behind her.

[Estelle Russard]

The next morning, Estelle woke to the cheerful harmonies of the many small birds who inhabit the pines surrounding the Russard family estate.

The sky was just barely beginning to lighten with the gradually rising sun, whose radiant fingers had yet to stretch forth and loose from the air the chill damp hold of evening. Estelle lingered beneath the covers, enjoying the dawn and that calm feeling one gets when light is reborn and nature bestirs itself to what a new day may bring.

In the dim half-light, she could see her fluffy housecoat hanging over a chair and debated within herself whether it was a better choice to get up and don it to go down for coffee, or stay right where she was. The former eventually won out and it was not long before she had shuffled quietly down stairs to the kitchen.

The night before had been a late one and a hearty yawn escaped her, making her eyes tear slightly. To anyone who may have been tracking her recent movements, which was highly unlikely but not impossible, Estelle's return to Coruscant would not be complete without a trip to see her family. Her plans to travel to Delaya and leave town so soon could raise some suspicions should she do so without first touching base with home.

Her father was off-planet on business, else he himself would have been the one to bring her, but Estelle had a grandfather - Jason Russard the elder - whom she had not seen for quite some time. It was this same Russard who spoke to her from the morning room, a small atrium fully enclosed in glass which lead from off the kitchen. It was furnished with low settees and many, many ferns, and in amongst them seated grandly with a steaming cup of tea, was her grandfather.

"Up early aren't you?" was his brusque greeting.

Estelle crossed over, her slippers scuffing softly as she walked, and sat beside her grandfather. "Its the best time of day, dont you think?" He was looking even older and weaker than before, especially wrapped up in blankets like he was. She had never considered him old. Not really. But this morning he really did appear to her to be frail. She hoped he had not read her thoughts in her expression. But, of course, he had. The body was feeble - the mind was not. And Jason Russard the elder had always had a brilliant and perceptive mind. He replied with a shrug and a crooked grin, "Any time of the day is good as long as you're still on the right side of the grass."

He held out his cup and Estelle took it in her hands, taking a sip.

"We dont expect your father home for a few more weeks, 'stelle"

"I know"

"He'll be sorry he wasn't here"

"Well, I'll still be here when he gets back" She was referring to the fact she had now returned to Imperial City and her absence was over.

"Hmhm" came his reply, which could mean practically anything, and he took his cup back once more.

"That young boy of yours lost his life for a reason, robin..." he said gently. He and her father always called her 'robin" when speaking to her heart. "...It's not always clear at the time."

She looked at him a little strangely - an expression he couldn't quite place. "Hmhm" she replied as she patted his old knee and went back to the kitchen to finish making coffee.

Jason the elder watched after her thoughtfully. That reply could mean practically anything.

[Estelle Russard]

The rest of the morning was uneventful and the day unfolded in the banality of a leisurely saturday. Estelle breakfasted with her grandfather, who was attended by his Twi'lek care aide, Lissel.

Washing down her toast and namana jam with copious amounts of coffee, Estelle browsed the newspaper while Jason the elder cursed at the daily crossword.

"Why do they have to include Huttese slang in these things? The language is repugnent enough without having to guess at the spelling of it in our own basic. Damned fools who pen these stupid things.."

Disgusted, the old man threw down his portion of the paper, drawing an amused grin from Estelle, hidden as she was, behind the enormous spreadsheets of the "Imperial City Gazette" and knowing that he could do the crossword well enough, but was just being stubborn.

About mid-morning, the young rebel finally took her leave, casually grabbing up the few items she'd brought with her and kissing her grandfather goodbye, promising she would be by the following weekend.

Departing the estate grounds, being driven in style in one of the family town vehicles, Estelle was finally glad to be on her way again.

The night before, and the afternoon preceding it,Estelle had spent in the preliminary groundwork preparing for her trip.

She had stopped at a pre-appointed "dropbox" in the city, set up by her Rebel Alliance field officer as a part of her being established into Coruscant. Getting there by 3 separate means of transportation (shuttle, cab and train) to ensure she was not followed, Estelle removed from the locked container specific items. She replaced it and then returned to her apartment, again by varied means of transport and a completely different route.

Once there, Russard connected up her portable secure-screen data base and began to search the old Alderaan system, with Delaya her main object of review. She spent a great deal of time examining the planet's specifics and its main traffic lanes and entry ports, gleaning a wide range of information - filing and discarding relevant and nonrelevent details in relation to Oriadin, and what she knew of him, as she was able.

From there, she took a cab to her family estate where she had spent that night.

Now - after leaving her apartment once again having been delivered there by the town car - she was equipped with documents for several aliases, a handsome amount of credits and a special field issue blaster, Estelle rented a small craft under an assumed name and departed Imperial City space.

As she set the coordinates for the Alderaan System, Estelle joked to the empty seat beside her "And so to find the Jedi in a haystack."[/i]