One order Dumplings and Bok Choy

[Zadge Talran]

The milk had gone sour.

Zadge stood in his kitchen in front of the open, yawning-yellow refrigerator with the open bottle of milk in hand. He sniffed at it again, recoiled, and replaced the cap with a puzzled look on his face. It seemed that time had decided to jump ahead without designated approval because Zadge could distinctly remember doing his grocery shopping only just last Tuesday. That made--the bedheaded man began to count on his fingers, oblivious to the refrigerator which had started humming in an attempt to maintain it's cold temperature--four days. Milk ought not to go sour in four days.

"I know it was Tuesday." As if he still wasn't quite sure, Zadge reached out to the countetop and pulled the bottle to his lips, taking a tentative swig. Almost immediately the skinny, knob-kneed man retched forward, spewing chunks of curdled milk across his darkened kitchen. A few cockroaches dove for cover behind a battered toaster as the vile stuff splattered against the wall with a gushy splat. Zadge shuddered and ran an arm across his mouth. "Bleeurch. Uch."

Thankfully he was a strong-stomached sort of guy, and once the milk was stowed back in the fridge, Zadge set about reheating some old rice. There was no soy sauce, but he had mustard and pepper and once he mixed it up a little bit it didn't taste half bad. It was enough to still his mawing belly, and he mm-ed a bit as he padded back out to his living room. The friendly glow of a computer screen awaited him and the pasty skinned male plopped into a worn chair, easing his backside into the pleasantly carved groove in the seat.

Though Zadge Talran had been living on Coruscant for nearly nine years, his crumbling apartment did not show it. The place was bare and dusty, with peeling wallpaper on the places where the wall hadn't been punched in and no lightbulbs to speak of. Each room seemed to lean slightly, as if they were tired, and it created the sense of a house of cards, just waiting for the slightest gust of wind to send it a tumbling down.

The only corner that showed any sign of human habitation was where Zadge now sat, a desk and chair and three computer screens which were the only source of light in the dank room. The man was systematically taking bites of rice, glancing at a sheaf of papers, and typing rapidly onto his keyboard. Once in a while he would pause, squint at one of the screens, and then shake his head, muttering to himself as he typed manically.

Three years ago a miracle in the shape of a girl named Benny had tumbled into Zadge's admittedly pathetic life. While their relationship had stilted after only a few months, Benny's rebel friends had taken a firmer hold on his heart. Being useful to someone was an entirely new feeling for Zadge and he was soon involved in protest movements and minor saboteur operations. Suddenly his skills with a computer weren't considered 'sissy'. Suddenly he had people actually asking him to do things. He was contributing. A stolen file here, a piece of information there. It was easy, really, and Zadge enjoyed it, agreed with it.

He was working on something now, for a friend of his who was trying to track down an old contact who had quite suddenly and suspiciously disapeared. Well, actually, it wasn't so much a "friend" as it was a "friend of a friend". Of a friend. Zadge hadn't actually met the guy but someone at one of the rallies had passed the query on and that was all it took for Zadge to hunker down at his desk for endless hours.

So far he hadn't unearthed much, but the man wasn't phazed. Sometimes it took a little longer, especially with such vague information. It had been two days but Zadge felt sure that it wouldn't be much longer.

A dull knock form the door momentarily distracted him; flinchin a little, the man grunted and continued to type. When the second knock sounded he glanced up irritably. Had he ordered take-away and forgotten? "Co-ming." Zadge called. He glanced around, looking for his robe, which was nowhere in sight. The boxers he was wearing were clean, although he wasn't sure he wanted the delivery person to see him in nothing but blaster patterned undies. "One sec!"

As a last effort, Zadge grabbed a pillow from the old couch and held it in front of him, shielding his delicates from view, and padded barefoot over to the door. "Sorry man, forgot I called, how much do I owe you?"

[Estelle Russard]

The delivery man passed by, oblivious to Estelle's presence, as he navigated the corridor. Eyes searching door numbers, then flicking down to the bill slip in his hand and up to the doors again. He did not notice her, and would not even had he been less preoccupied. Estelle, standing tucked back in a shadowed recess of a stairwell landing, was next to invisible in her dark clothing and black woollen balaclava. She watched his progress - her attention sharpening as the young man, pillow-clad, exchanged credit chits gratefully for the arrived chinese food.



Double counting his money, and shaking his head at the meagre tip, the delivery man passed Estelle without notice for a second time.

Zadge had just gotten his first whiff of steaming oriental spices from the open cardboard spout, the hot, wet vapour pungent with ginger and szechwan when a second knock sounded at his door. Again he padded across the room, again with the pillow in place and opened up.

The corridor was empty.

Or, for a split second he thought it was empty. Leaning just slightly forward to take a peek down the hall's length, he was rewarded with a blaster pushed rudely against his forehead. He heard the distinct and unwelcome hum of the weapon arming up. Wordlessly, Estelle stepped forward, Zadge in mirror action stepped back. Russard used her foot to slam the door shut behind them.

In a voice that was not her own -- a technically modified affect that Talran immediately knew to be from a small device pressed to the cleft in the throat -- Estelle demanded answers:


"WHAT IS YOUR INTEREST IN JAMES BRETTON?"

She pushed the blaster a little harder against his head so that it made his neck start to ache.


"YOU BETTER START TALKING, NERFDUNG"

[Zadge Talran]

He had heard stories like this from some of the rally guys. Until now Zadge had always kind of rated them right up there with freak accidents and root canals; they were terrifying, but they always happened to someone else.

As the masked, blaster-weilding psycho pressed said blaster into his throat, Zadge simultaneously dropped both his pillow and the thin strip of terriyake beef that he had been poised to devour. The man was now, if it were possible, even paler than usual. In the dimness of his apartment, his scrawny, trembling self was positively pathetic.

"Uh..." Zadge's glasses slipped down the bridge of his nose, but he made no move to adjust them. "Uh..." For some absurd reason he suddenly felt eight again, trying to come up with a reason to stop his older brothers from punching him. Ridiculous because, one, he hadn't been remotely close to home for almost ten years and, two, when one got punched, as opposed to shot, one didn't die.

As the cold pressure of the blaster pressed against his skin with more determined intent, Zadge made the most potentially stupid decision of his short (make that very short) life. "He's an old friend! I... I had a class with him when I first moved here! Lost touch. Wanted, wanted to..." he took a breath and his stomach heaved, making a sort of gagging laugh that horrified him. "Catch up!"

[Estelle Russard]

The little goof was lying. Why did they do that?

Estelle liked this situation even less than Zadge did. She had been taught to only draw her weapon if she intended to use it. Hence the blaster in hand.

Word that he had been snooping about, asking questions that could lead to awkward revelations regarding her own recruitment into the Rebel Alliance had been brought to her attention. And something had to be done.

James Bretton had been the very reason she became a rebel spy. He had been her boyfriend before his death at the hands of the Inquisitoriate forces two years earlier. They had met originally at Tarkin University, where Estelle had returned to study, establishing for herself a water-tight double life...and here was Talran waltzing along with all his inconvenient inquiries set to possibly pull the plug on it all. That was not to be allowed to happen.

"YOU SURE YOU WANT THAT TO BE YOUR ANSWER?" The metallic voice was concise.

While it was not a stretch that this fellow with teriaki sauce congealing around his fingertips was an old friend - the manner in which he had been conducting his search for James was not natural. He had been sleuthing about making what he probably thought were discreet investigations. However, he had not been subtle enough, as was obvious by Russard standing in his living room with a primed blaster.

"YOU WANT THE LAST THING YOU SAY IN THIS LIFE TO BE A LIE?"

Five seconds while Zadge thought about that.

"WHO SENT YOU, AND WHY? YOU GOT THREE SECONDS, THEN YOU'RE DEAD."

[Zadge Talran]

A whimper escaped his lips, and at the same time Zadge wasted exactly 2.5 of his alloted three seconds frantically trying to get his mind to stop screeching nonsensical laments and kick into some sort of order. "No, no, no!" He swallowed, only to have the space under his tongue fill with the pre-vomit saliva again. "Nobody sent me, I have no idea what you're talking about..."

Aware that his voice had risen to an almost incomprehensible soprano, Zadge coughed and tried to steady his shaking knees. He would collapse, he was certain, in a few seconds with the way his legs were weakening. Or else he's collapse because he'd be dead. Either way, laying on this filth-coated floor in skivvies was almost assuredly in his forseeable future.

Zadge was horrified to find that he wanted to cry.

He placed his long-fingered hands on either side of his head, pressing hard against his temples. "Listen, I'm just worried about the guy, t-t-that's all. I ha-haven't heard from him for a long time, and, and, and when people just dissapear, on C-coruscant, nowadays... I don't know what you're talking about, honest. I just, I'm not, I don't..."

[Estelle Russard]

The blaster held steady, as did the gaze Estelle had locked onto Zadge.

She didn't have time for this song and dance.

Bringing up her other hand, which till now had hung harmlessly at her side, Estelle touched the small metal cynlinder cupped in her hand to Zadge's exposed neck. Talran felt the faintest pricking of his skin. And then dropped like a sack of rodder-spuds to the floor.

********************

Twenty minutes had passed by the time he opened his eyes again. Estelle was no where in sight. After the sickly sensation in his stomach, that had been what Zadge had noticed first. Secondarily he noticed the thick nylon wire that bound his hands behind his back, his feet to two legs of his chair and his chest tightly in place against its frame. Any struggle made the wire instantly bite into the soft flesh of his upper torso, wrists and ankles.

Russard was in the bedroom, he now realised, and by the sounds that reached the bound Talran, was searching thoroughly through his things.

[Zadge Talran]

"Hey!" Although he wasn't sure it was smart to be yelling at his assailant, waking groggy and bound in his own apartment after having a blaster shoved against his adams apple was enough to push Zadge to do away with niceties. Sometime during his shift from blubbering hostage to hogtied prisoner, Zadge had lost his glasses. The man squinted at the dark haze that was, he thought, the hallway which led to his bedroom. There was no movement. Zadge tried to lean forward, but the few centimeters that were possible were painful and quickly convinced him to sit tight.

Again, Zadge yelled. "Hey! What are you doing?" There was nothing incriminating in his bedroom, unless dirty magazines and socks had been blacklisted in the last twenty-four hours.

What the was going on?

[Estelle Russard]

The boy had unfortunate taste in boxer shorts - he was a big fan of prints. Blasters, x-wings, martini glasses..

Estelle would have found it a trifle endearing had she not been steeling herself to the fact that he was most likely her enemy and would have to somehow be 'removed'.

The search had turned up nothing of consequence so far. She took the datapad leaning against Zadge's bedside table, intending to take it to Morgan Evanar to examine. Behind it were several magazines, all Blaster Digests, thankfully. She'd already checked the Gladiator Girls. Ugh. Russard fanned through them on the off-chance she'd find a name or number that might lead her further to understanding Talran's interest in James. So it was with vague surprise that a folded peice of paper floated out from between the pages extolling the virtures of repeater rifles.

Zadge sat up straighter as Estelle returned to the room, an new urgency to her manner.

"TELL ME ABOUT THIS LIST! WHO ARE THESE PEOPLE, WHAT IS YOUR INVOLVEMENT?"

[Zadge Talran]

Things had rapidly gone from bad to worse. Zadge instinctively jerked back as the mechanical-voiced figure descended upon him in a fury. The chair he was strapped to flipped over, and his head cracked on the floor loudly. Zadge winced and shook his head.

"They're friends, they're my friends." He tried to remember what was on the list Estelle held in her hand. As far as memory served him, it was just that; a list, of a few names and a location. Innocuous, at best, and hardly incriminating--unless one were familar with such names. It was becoming very clear what had happened. Somehow, be it through carelessness or (and Zadge hoped he was wrong) betrayal, the Imperials had stumbled across their little ring of Rebel sympathisers. This had led them here. He let out a frustrated, terrified growl.

"It's a party invite! That's it! A rave, down at a warehouse!" Zadge rocked the fallen chair back and forth, the cords around him rubbing into his exposed skin. His bound hands were starting to go numb beneath him.

"Look can you please, can you please just shoot me! I don't like suspense!

[Estelle Russard]

Estelle knew the names. Knew who they were and where their sympathies lay.

Finding this list, here, was either very bad, or very very bad.

Very bad if Zadge was a rebel himself and these <i>were</i> his friends - if she could find out about them, so easily, too, could the Imperials. The thought gave her a chill.

Very, very bad was if she was looking down at an Imperial plant strapped up in such an undignified fashion. The names on the list were already in danger.
There was only one way to tell, and Zadge would be the one to tell her.

Only he didn't know it yet.

<b>"A PARTY"</b> she echoed and tucked the paper into her pocket.

Estelle knelt over Zadge for what seemed like forever, both of them knowing he was already dead if she so chose.

<b>"FORGET JAMES BRETTON. STOP YOUR SEARCH. THERE IS NOTHING TO FIND. YOU DONT WANT ME TO COME BACK."</B>

Slipping a pearl handled blade out of her sleeve, she cut first the nylon around Zadge's chest. There was a thin crimson line where it had been. She then flipped him, and the chair with him, onto his side and sliced the bindings about his wrists. She would leave him to free his ankles on his own.

Estelle then slipped out of Zadge's door.

Outside, in the fresh air of the Coruscant night Russard did not think she would have long to wait. Zadge would want to warn his friends of the nights events - whether they be Imperial or Rebel would remain to be seen.

[Zadge Talran]

He waited one minute. Sixty seconds on the floor, head throbbing, chest aching, heart racing...

... And his front door stayed shut.

"Frell. Frell. Frell, frell, frell." Zadge shot to his still-unsteady feet, rubbing at his chaffed wrists as he blindly pounded down the seedy hallway and into his bedroom. The lamp was overturned, drawers removed from his bedside table and overturned onto the bed itself, the matress of which was split neatly down it's length. The man didn't stop to look at the damage. He grabbed the nearest pair of pants and a tight, red band shirt before hurtling back into the living room.

Zadge dropped to his knees, hands sweeping the floorboards with trembling insistence. Finally, four or five feet from the toppled chair, the fingers of his left hand closed around his glasses. These were shoved back into place on his nose with little ceremony. If he were lucky, he figured he had maybe ten minutes before the first person on the list was paid a visit.

Leaping over the chair where moments before he'd been captive, Zadge hit the keyboard of his computer, bringing it to life. Eyes glued to the screen, his fingers a flurry of activity, the man breathlessly entered in the sequence of commands that he'd hoped would never have had to be used' if someone were to return in his absense they'd get no information from the computers.

Confident that he'd made no errors (it was the one area where he never doubted himself), Zadge turned and hurtled out the door, not bothering to go back when it bounced open again. As he ran the man punched a code into his comm unit. He didn't stop running.

A muffled male voice answered. "...H'lo?"

"Get out of your apartment NOW!" Zadge screamed into the reciever, turning left and charging down a flight of duracrete stairs, wet from an overflowed water drain. There was the sound of movement from the comm; Renton getting out of bed.

"Zee? S'that you? What're you on about now?"

"Ah!" He yelped as he narrowly avoided running into an elderly Rodian as he dashed out of the alley and onto a street which, on weekends, was home to a busting intergalactic marketplace. This was a roundabout way of getting where he wanted to go, which was exactly why he needed to take it. "Now, get out now, we've got some people coming to crash the party! I'll meet you and and others in five minutes!"

That done, Zadge turned the comm off, dropped it onto the pavement, and grabbed a length of pipe from a passing construction worker. The hefty man stared dumbly as the scrawny, panting guy smashed the pipe down onto the unit, which sparked and soon became an unidentifiable pile of plasic and wires. "Thanks." Zadge said, handing the pipe back and kicking the bits aside before sprinting away.

He didn't want to to think what would happen if he was too late.

Ten minutes later Zadge was dashing helter-skelter up a ramshackle flight of stairs in a nondescript cafe, taking them two at a time. He reached the top, where a battered door led to the roof. Bursting through, his shoulder a battering ram, the man frantically glanced around. A wave of sheer relief washed over him as a small group of three or four people, staring at him with a mixture of worry and confusion, walked forward to meet him.

Renton, a bald, open-faced young man wearing a thick leather vest, watched as Zadge doubled over, grasping his knees. "What the frak is going on, Zee?"

"T-they know," Zadge gasped between breaths, sweat pouring down his forhead and fogging his glasses. "Imperial agent came... they know!"

There was a collective, doomed silence. This was very bad.

[Estelle Russard]

She had followed him at some distance, her swoop-bike hovering over and under the low-level overhangs of the building facades, keeping tabs on Zadge with her long range tracker. Her precautions were unnecessary, however, as Talran never looked behind him once. He was panicked and though he meandered his way through the city, which showed some anticipation of pursuit, it had not been enough to loose her.

He was in one terrible hurry, that much was clear.

Russard saw him enter a cafe. It was one she recognised and had even frequented a time or two. Many of the students in the area liked this place. Its lattes were cheap and the owner didn't make you buy food if you wanted to sit for longer than an hour and study. He was one of those sweet old grandad types, glad to see all these kids 'making something of their lives'. Before pulling into the parking area with her bike, she removed her balaclava and her dark sweater. Upon taking a seat inside, she immediately determined Zadge was not there. Locating herself carefully so that she could see the front door, the door to the kitchen and a rickety staircase which led from the main room to an upper level - where, in all liklihood Talran had bolted to. Russard remembered at the last minute to remove the voice alteration device from her throat. It would not do for Talran to realise it was she who had terrorized him only a short time ago.

The location Zadge had led her to was a good sign, Estelle thought. It pointed to the possibility that he was warning his friends and not reporting to his Imperial bosses. She'd know for certain soon enough when he reappeared and whose company he was in.

She ordered a black tea and a custard torte and waited.

[Zadge Talran]

"How much did they find?"

"The list for tomorrow night's meeting."

"Son of a hutt."

"That's why we burn things like that!"

"I know! I'm sorry! I just got it a few hours ago," Zadge was stopped by Renton who blew a sharp whistle. Everyone turned to the young man, who stood with his arms on his hips.

"Enough. Reu, Sadi," Renton nodded at the two females in the group, sisters who'd lost their family in the Alderaan incident. "Go home, if the coast is clear you get rid of anything that might put you in danger. Then call anyone who's been to the meetings in the last six months."

The girls nodded and left without another word. Zadge's heart stilled to something close to rapid; Renton had an innate calm which allowed him to deligate under pressure. It was why all of them trusted him, would have done anything if he just said the word. "Jonna, you go back to Zee's, keep a lookout. And you," Renton slung an arm around Zadge's shoulders and led him back towards the door. "You need some water and I need to know exactly what the frak happened."

Zadge nodded and stumbled down the stairs, Renton close behind. The two quietly settled into a corner table and Renton waited until Zadge had taken a few breaths before heading to the counter to order a couple of drinks. Zadge looked around the cafe, trying to keep his sweeping gaze slow and casual.

What was he expecting, a masked figure?

Renton returned, and handed him a glass of water with lemon cordial, eyeing him carefully. He sat down in the other chair and leaned forward, espresso balanced neatly in a little saucer. "Now give me the details, but do it softly and chuckle like you're telling a joke," A wide grin split Renton's face and he nodded, thouroughly confusing Zadge.

"What--" He began. Renton shook his head, his eyes flickering over Zadge's shoulder for a split second. His smile never wavered as he spoke.

"There's a woman who keeps glancing over. It's real subtle, but you aren't that good looking, Zee."

[Estelle Russard]

They had come down the stairs. The girls first - faces tense, determined to not make eye contact with anyone in the cafe. The men came next. One solo and moving quickly like he was on a mission. All three exited the cafe without pause. Then came Zadge and his companion, probably the cheif of the whole little band. These two took up a seat at a nearby table - close to her, but too far for her to hear their conversation.

Her relief at her drawn conclusion that Zadge had come to warn his friends made her a trifle careless - the man with Zadge had seen her interest in them.

It was time for her to leave as well.

She downed the last two bites of the torte, chasing it down with the dregs of now-tepid tea and got up from her table. Leaving enough credits to pay her bill, she paused at Zadge's table for just a moment.

"Excuse me, Im sorry to interrupt you" she said almost shyly, "you aren't Adam Reigns are you?" The blank look Zadge gave her was answer enough. Estelle gave a nervous laugh, feigning embarressment. "I didnt think so, but you really do look just like him. He was an old childhood crush." She added by explanation, and left it at that with a smile and a shrug.

It was a bit lame, but it was the best she could think of for the moment to explain her veiled interest.

It would have to do. Estelle had a report to make to her handler and get his instruction on where to go from here. What to do about this Zadge Talran. The immediate danger of her connection to James Bretton was eased, Estelle felt certain all investigation into her boyfriends disappearance would cease for the time being. But, this new rebel cell was another thing altogether.

Tonight - had she been an Imperial operative - all these five individuals would have become targets of the Inquisitoriate. As easy as that. The thought made her feel sick to her stomach.

Exiting the cafe, it took Estelle a moment to start up her bike and allow herself to be swallowed up in to the traffic of Imperial Center at night.

Kazaar's place was a twenty minute drive away at this time of night.

[Aurelias Kazaar]

Kazaar was pulling himself up towards the ceiling one last time.

With a *grunt* he got his chin just above the bar in the doorway; then lowered himself down to the floor. He released the bar, then shook his arms t'keep the muscles loose.

His time in the Rebel brig had given him plenty of time t'get himself into the best shape he'd been inna while. The former bounty hunter had never really let himself 'go' anyway (the job didn't afford it) but prison gave ya two options...work out or sleep and ya didn't always get t'do the latter (something Kazaar didn't always get anyway).

He'd spent plenty o'time in 'The Yard', stretching and lifting weights in the tightly controlled environment. When he'd been locked in solitary, the warden still let him work out alone on a separate schedule than the other inmates. It'd actually been pretty nice t'be all alone while working out. The silence of the workout room, plus whatever music he wanted t'play...that was the kinda workout Kazaar wanted.

Smazzo music always worked better than th'usual poodoo that was played during workouts...got Kazaar's blood rolling, plus the percussion was always nice t'listen to. Wasn't the best music t'drink to...Nah...that was Tattooine Blues...that sad music always broughta tear to Kazaar's black eyes...even if he wouldn't admit it at times.

But that kinda music...that was worth cryin' to.

Kazaar's muscles bulged as he stretched 'em, the white tank top he wore stained with sweat.

He hadn't been in this apartment too long, having only arrived on Coruscant four months ago. It still didn't always look lived in...'cept for the bed with the (badly) folded sheets, the table with plates resting on it, plus the torn couch and chair.

That didn't count for th'closet where Kazaar had stashed about a quarter of his arsenal from The Flying Dutchman (maybe a little less than that) and an assortment of shoes, pants, shirts, and socks.

And, of course, the boxes of cigars and the multiple six packs of brews.

He pulled off his shirt, tossing it in the clothes hamper 'The Kid' had insisted he get.

"You've got to, at least, attempt to look civil, Kazaar," Estelle'd said when they'd checked out the place, "My father is paying for this after all."

It was true, the 'great' Jason the Younger...industrialist, millionaire, Imperial was paying for the place, plus some of th'expenditures Kazaar came up with. After Estelle's ordeal (http://sw-fans.net/forum/showthread.php?t=15524) at the hands of Ghlar Timandar, Kazaar'd been offered two jobs: the first...bein' Estelle's bodyguard and driver (babysitter as Kazaar called it, to which 'The Kid' smiled).

The second (more importantly), Estelle's handler. In reality, the two of 'em served as each others handlers...Kazaar made 'The Kid' tougher, while Estelle kept th'loose cannon not so loose.

Or tried to at least. 'Least that's what 'The Bossman' and The Black Man kept sayin'.

Kazaar didn't buy it at all, he loved workin' with 'The Kid', but knowing Belargic...he was keepin' Kazaar outta the game so he could make sure Kazaar wasn't entirely nuts.

Good luck there, the former bounty hunter thought with a smirk.

But they'd get their due...'least TBM would.

But now their mission (which they had no choice but to accept) was t'find what rogue elements on Coruscant were (discreetly of course) and of they'd be willing t'be a part of the Rebellion.

Wasn't a bad mission...but still pretty damn boring.

Kazaar lit up onna dark cigar and pulled out two beers. He opened the both of them, taking a long swig from th'first.

The second was for 'The Kid', whose swoop bike pulled up t'Kazaar's place with a *whine*.

A minute later and she walked in, her nose crinkling slightly at the acrid smell of smoke. Kazaar only smirked.

"Ya know, Kid," he stated, handing the bottle to her, then turning for the refresher, "This place ya dad got still has some faulty plumbing...pipes keep rattlin' and all.

"Come check it out."

The two walked into the refresher where, indeed, the pipes did rattle when Kazaar turned on the sink. Loud enough...t'keep any bugs the Inquisitors might've put in there at bay.

"So..." Kazaar said, taking a puff and a drink, "What'd ya find out?"

[Estelle Russard]

Kazaar tended to talk in an understated style most the time, but when they slipped in to conversations about their work, he seemed to drop a few decibles quieter. Russard had to lean forward to both hear him and to reply in kind.

"Our guy's one of us" she stated softly.

Kazaar nodded his head in that perfunct manner that conveyed Yep. Continue.

"He has friends." This changed things. Not just a lone nuisance poking his nose into things he shouldn't - now they had a cell to deal with.



Dark, thoughtful eyes clipped sideways toward her, seeking confirmation that he'd heard right. The pipes rattled loudly beside them.

Estelle confirmed with a nod of her own.

"They think the Imps are on to them. I gave them a scare tonight"

Kazaar grinned wickedly and snuffed.

"Its not funny" she said, annoyed, and kicked his foot. "What should we do? Im afraid they'll panic."

[Aurelias Kazaar]

"Then," Kazaar said simply, finishing his beer and taking another puff from the cigar, "We gotta make sure they don't."

He set the brown bottle on the sink, then dabbed the end of his cigar. A long, grey-white piece of ash fell into the sink, scattering to bits when it struck the marble.

"Think 'bout it, Kid...If I find out my cover's fracked, I bug out quickly. So whadwegonnado?"

Estelle paused a minute, thinking. An answer came to her quickly, "We need to figure out who these guys are and where they can go."

The former bounty hunter gave a wolfish grin and nodded.

"We know th'cafe and we know th'apartment. If they're students, they'll prolly set up some sorta look-out t'keep and eye on things..."

The grin got larger as Estelle finished his thought.

"We find out who he is, then get him t'take us to his friends."

"I figure," Kazaar gave his trademark smirk, "We do things your way and scare th'hell outta 'em.

"That oughta get 'im t'talk."

[Zadge Talran]

Meanwhile...

Zadge hunkered down against the door of the speeder, his glasses pressed against the edge of the window as he strained to see anything that was possibly harbouring sinister intent. Besides a stray plastic bag that was tumbling about, caught on a drain and being blown around by the updraft, and a few passersby walking with determined gaits, there was nothing.

Beside him, Renton took a long drag on his stim and rolled his eyes.

"Are you waiting for me to hold your hand to cross the road, sweetie?"

Zadge glared at his friend, who merely smirked and blew another puff of smoke his direction. Another moments hesitation and then Zadge opened the speeder door, crossing the street at a fast clip before slowing to walk up the stairs to his apartment. He took each one very carefully, his ears intent on any sound which might signal another visitor.

The man's fears were dashed when he entered through the open door, throwing it shut behind him and whirling in impressive speed to startle the empty air that hid in the space behind it. "Ha." Zadge said, more to relieve the eerie silence; funny how only hours before he'd thought the quiet had been 'peaceful', and now it seemed 'ominous and demented'.

Renton had figured they had a short window to return to the place before the Imperials came back. Enough time for Zadge to grab a few things, make sure there was nothing else in the apartment that would prove to be tells.

He quickly swept through the apartment, grabbing all his ID, his watch, his extra glasses, and--removed from it's taped spot on the back of a random ceiling panel--a dust-coated blaster. The last he tucked into the waistband of his pants, and for a moment Zadge felt quite dangerous. A yell from an upstairs apartment made him jump though and Zadge left quickly.

"What do we do now?" He asked Renton as he entered the speeder again, tossing his things onto the floor at his feet.

"We go to Dayboy's place. Safest place on earth. Uncle's in the Imperial Navy."

Renton tossed the butt of his stim out the window as the speeder hummed to life and took to the skylanes.

[Estelle Russard]

They'd arrived outside Zadge's apartment building just in time to see their bespectled quarry run out of his building - hands loaded with, what Kazaar indelicately referred to as all his crap - and bundle himself into a waiting speeder.

The two Agents, both clad in their black's, idled in their speeder four parked vehicles back. Back at the apartment, Kazaar had showered and dressed in minimal time so that Estelle had been impressed with how quickly he had switched from sweaty, shirtless workout man to sleek-clothed lethal weapon, his newly shorn black locks slicked back making him appear even more efficiently dangerous than before. She hadn't asked then, but she'd noticed the scars on his back and chest. And he'd noticed she noticed. But this was not the time for such discussions. Kazaar spoke bringing her thoughts back to the here and now.

"And the rabbit bolts" Kazaar said smugly, trademark cigar clenched between his teeth.

Estelle was busy getting available Intel on the speeder's make, registration and owner from the crafts datacomp. Nothing of "redflag" status popped up on her screen. Good, the driver was keeping a low profile. That was one positive to his credit.

As Renton's speeder veered out into the busy spacelanes, Aurelias nudged theirs out to follow suit.

"And on down the rabbithole" Estelle rejoined, keeping the speeder ahead in her sights.

[Zadge Talran]

They drove in silence, Zadge wincing every other corner as Renton narrowly avoided crashing head-on into oncoming traffic. The man seemed not to notice his passengers discomfort, and merely worked the airbrakes with mastered finesse.

Thirty minutes later they screeched to a halt between a caterers van and a vintage Sunscream IV. Renton exited the speeder with the stunning, languid ease that permeated his character. Zadge tripped on his shoelaces.

Dayboy, as it turned out, was not a boy at all. She was a wiry, dark-skinned girl sporting a buzzcut and multiple tattoos (which she showed off in a skin-tight tanktop). The woman was a stark contrast to the apartment she resided in. It was beautiful, in the Mahogany-panelled, marble-halled, crystal tumblers sense of the word. It was evident that Dayboy was her uncle's favourite niece.

"Yeah man," She said with a grin when Zadge remarked so. "Just think what it'd do to him if knew who my real friends were."

There were already a few people lounging about. Zadge skulked warily in the doorway as Renton pulled Dayboy aside and held a whispered conversation. The girl's eyes grew stormy and she glanced over his shoulder at the skinny guy in glasses who jumped at the slightest noise.

She doesn't think I belong here. A polite smile tugged at his lips...

...and promptly flew away along with the rest of his body as he lunged across the room. Renton and Dayboy stared at him, puzzled. Zadge pushed his glasses up his nose and swallowed his heart. "Someone's at the door." He hissed, glaring at the massive, carved baricade. Indeed, a persistant rapping sounded again. Renton glanced at Dayboy.

"You expecting your uncle?" Dayboy shook her head and reached to the back of her pants, where a blaster, tucked in the waistband, was secured.

"Ain't expectin' no one."

[Aurelias Kazaar]

Kazaar smirked as he stared at th'group of wanna-be Rebels trying t'get organized for whatever hell the Empire was gonna bring on 'em.

Couple problems:

1. He wasn't th'damn Imps.

2. He wasn't at the door.

Naw...that was th'guy he told t'knock on the door then run away quickly. Paid him fifty creds t'do it too...

Okay 'The Kid' gave him the creds, but it was from the former bounty hunter's stash. She'd been smart too, sayin' it was a prank onna couple friends. She'd pointed out Zadge as he stumbled up the walk to the apartment.

Kazaar swore the guy would fall offa the skybridge if there wasn't a railing t'keep him from falling.

"Just knock on the door and run," Estelle'd said, giving her best 'innocent look' (which was pretty easy. Better'n Kazaar's, that was f'damn sure). 'Course she also planted a small tracking device on his shoulder.

Had t'know what floor the wannabes were on.

"It's for school don't worry."

Another soft smile and th'guy agreed. 'Course it also helped that 'The Kid' only paid him half up-front.

Gotta make sure he did it afta all.

And the guy'd done it based on how the wannabes scurried around the apartment like Fwits. Thing is...like Fwits, they could be dangerous t'those who weren't ready.

Estelle'd wanted t'be a part of what Kazaar had planned, but he waved her off.

"Ya had ya fun earlier...now I get some," he'd smirked through his dark cigar, "Oh relax, Kid, I still need ya...once you're done payin' the guy...meet me back up here.

"I sure as hell, ain't gonna jump 554 floors t'my death. Grab our speeder and meet me by th'window.

"Especially since I'm bringin' a guest."

Or two, he reconsidered since it appeared there were two wannabes armed. Their mark and some tattooed chick.

Kazaar hefted his EE-3 carbine (http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/EE-3_carbine_rifle), in his gloved hands before pulling the mask over his face. Couldn't trust everyone there just yet.

He'd perched himself onna durasteel balcony just outside the apartment. It'd been easy to cling, then climb up onto the ledge...his grapple gun'd helped, and it wasn't as much of a challenge as that one mission on Balmorra had been.

Boy...that'd been fun...

The Rebel Spy readied himself for his plan as the apartment door slid open, then shut.

Looked like they were all starting t'breathe a bit easier...

Then Kazaar slammed the butt of his carbine into th'window. It shattered and he leaped into th'room, carbine up.

He trained his rifle around th'room at the seven peeps gawkin' at his sudden appearance. Kazaar was doin' it f'two reasons:

First, his carbine held a combination holocamera-zoom scope. It was something BlasTech Industries'd been workin' on...a way for assassins to ID and record a 'kill'.

Or, in Kazaar's case, t'make sure every wannabe in that damn apartment was that...a wannabe. Inquisitors hadda way of placing snitches in various different potential 'dangerous groups' as a way o'tracking 'persons of interest', if the Rebel Cell got big enough.

Kazaar wasn't sure if these wannabes had reached 'persons of interest' status yet...but he wasn't takin' any chances. Hence th'mask and the holocamera.

The second reason was t'keep these wannabes from doin' anything stupid.

'Course, he thought ruefully, these green as goblin moss dunderheads're gonna do something stupid.

Which, of course, they did.

The tattooed girl raised her blaster, her formfitting tank-top leavin' nothing to the imagination.

Much as he'd love t'gaze, Kazaar had better things t'do.

So he shot 'er with a stun blast and she fell to the carpeted floor, unconscious.

They might be wannabes, but they were still important.

Kazaar gave a guttural growl, "Anyone else wanna try that."

It wasn't a question.

[Estelle Russard]

She hadn't liked the plan one bit. Too many 'unknowns' in an enclosed space for her taste. But, of course, try telling that to Aurelias Kazaar. The man wasn't happy unless he was toting some rapid-repeater rifle or a pair of pearl handed blasters and waving them menacingly in some poor wretch's face.

And whose to know just what, or who, he was jumping into kamikaze-style via that 554 level window? The odds of unmanagable scenarios was overwhelming. Yet, here she sat like some docile debutante waiting for her partner's return against all her better judgement.

She'd already put a fright into the would-be rebels earlier tonight and they would be as jittery as sajoi at a Cizerack buffet. Straining her neck forward, Russard tried to follow what was happening inside the apartment.

Aurelias had his back to her, rifle panning the room's occupants back and forth--uh, theres one down now. Dangit Kazaar, Estelle bit down on her lip in annoyance, do you always have to shoot someone?

She saw Zadge pale and his eyes, even from the distance she was at, could be seen bugging huge in fright.

Estelle drew her blaster - careful to have it on stun - in case she too need to enter the fray.

[Zadge Talran]

Zadge stared at Dayboy's limp form, mouth slightly agape. His own blaster was still tucked awkwardly in his waistband, and he was thankful that he at least had not had the mind to draw it when the knock on the door had sounded.

No one dared to move. Beside him, Renton had crossed his arms over his chest, and was staring at the masked hulk impassively; he seemed not to be intimidated. Zadge remembered what he'd heard about his aquaintence; the rumour went that Renton had been held by Imperial interrogators for six days and lived, though barely, to tell the tale. He had four prosthetics and all of his teeth were false, according to reverent followers of the man. Whatever had happened, Renton was game for anything.

Whereas Zadge had been with one of the Empire's cronies for less than three hours and his fingertips were going numb from fear.

"..." A sort of scratching noise scraped out of his throat, and he let out the breath he'd been holding.

This just couldn't end well.

[Aurelias Kazaar]

"Ya got something t'say, Specks?" Kazaar angled his gaze at Zadge.

This was th'guy 'The Kid' had 'paid a visit to' earlier, tryin' to find out what he knew about James Bretton.

'Specks' shivered a bit in his boots, tryin' not t'freak out, but he was prolly doin' that anyway.

And that was one o'the parts 'bout Kazaar's job the Rebel Spy loved. Scaring the hell outta people.

"How 'bout you tough guy," his gaze switched to one of the wannabes who didn't look impressed at all.

"Got anythin'?"

'Course, Kazaar got nothin' from th'guy, but he wasn't 'pecting anything. The guy was tryin' t'show how big his ego was (somethin' Kazaar knew alla'bout.)

But there was a difference between ego 'n confidence. Something else the Rebel Spy knew all 'bout.

"Awright Specks, you're comin' with me," he motioned with his blaster towards th'window.

"Got some additional questions for ya.

"And you...tough guy...stay right where ya are," Kazaar gave a deadly smile 'neath his mask.

"Don't need ya..."

'Tough Guy' didn't show it, but he prolly wasn't happy with bein' turned down.

"Grab th'chick though. Got some questions f'her too."

His black eyes flashed, "We're goin' forra ride."

When no one moved, the blaster rifle rose again, "Whatta ya waitin' for Specks, more ya butt now!"

[Estelle Russard]

Hovering outside the apartment window, the speeder was beginning to draw some curious glances from passing traffic and Estelle was getting impatient.

...Hurry up.....hurry up...

It simply would not do if some ICPD cruiser came by to investigate things. Estelle considered 'tooting' the horn, but decided that would only draw further attention.

What was the skinny guy doing? Surely Kazaar didn't think that kid could lift the girl? He was all trembling skin and bones.

Miraculously, Zadge hefted up the second rebel and lumbered forward with her.

Russard nudged the speeder closer, maneuvering it to hold steady and level to accommodate their reluctantly boarding passengers.

[Aurelias Kazaar]

"Get in 'Specks'," Kazaar kept his blaster rifle trained on the crowd in th'room, "I ain't got all day."

Talran placed Dayboy into the backseat of the speeder, and started t'sit down next to her.

"Gimme ya blaster first," the former bounty hunter's guttural voice erased th'last bit of hope of attempting some kinda escape...if he even had th'nerve.

The short blaster was placed into the front seat of the blaster, Talran doing his best to keep his skinny body from shivering too much.

Renton took a step forward and Kazaar shook his head.

"I told ya not t'think 'bout it 'Tough Guy'. And I meant it."

His voice rose so Estelle could hear him, "Take 'Evey', Kid, and scoot over. I wanna drive."

'Evey' was Kazaar's EE-3 blaster carbine rifle. Kazaar'd given her th'name after the Mandalorian Nurse, Eve Clay, who'd had the stones t'tell Kazaar to put his cigar out when he'd been watchin' over Estelle (http://sw-fans.net/forum/showpost.php?p=221434&postcount=77). He'd called her 'the fourth-toughest chick I ever met,' which was why she deserved th'honor. She'd almost lived up t'the billing too.

'The Kid' never could figure out why Kazaar named his weapons and Kazaar always looked at 'er like she had four heads whenever asked 'bout it. Far as he was concerned, naming weapons was as normal as firing 'em. Ya did 'em t'honor those ya knew living or dead. 'The Kid' would understand it at some point.

A leap and Kazaar was standing in the speeder, wind flapping at his black-clad arms and legs.

Estelle placed the blaster rifle into the passenger seat and the Rebel Spy pulled his own silver-Bryar Blaster Pistol. A blue ring emerged from the barrel as Kazaar stunned 'Specks'.

Can't have ya knowing where we go, he thought ruefully.

With a smirk, Kazaar sat in th'drivers seat with one motion.

A moment later and they were just 'nother speeder in all th'lanes of Coruscant traffic.

[Zadge Talran]

His head hurt. Just above his right eyebrow. Like he'd smacked into something.

Zadge thought he vaugely remembered a speeder window rushing up to meet his face, but it wasn't clear enough to be certain. At any rate, the man's right eye was blinking quickly, cautiously, testing for any damage other than light bruising. He opened it slowly, and the other, glad that at least this time his glasses had remained in place. His arms, wrapped around the back of his seat and secured at the wrists with a pair of vibrocuffs which hummed, felt stiff.

"... hello?" It was spoken quietly to the empty, unfamilar room. Zadge did not want whoever it was that had cuffed him to his seat (again with the restraining to chairs) to come in just yet-- because he knew, horribly, that it would be the same hulking masked figure that had shot Dayboy and kidnapped them both. Zadge's mouth went dry just thinking about it, and he tried to move his thoughts elsewhere by trying to think of plausible lies to explain his choice of association.

None seemed enough to secure his life.

Zadge swallowed with some difficulty. Right then.

Drawing in a breath the slight figure, trembling slightly from nerves and muscles held in one position too long, somehow managed not to sound completely terrified when as he shouted, "I don't suppose a glass of water would be too much trouble, eh?"

[Estelle Russard]

Estelle's finger was almost touching his nose.

"I mean it Kazaar - no hitting him" Her brown eyes were quite fierce. "And no shooting him either" she added quickly.

Kazaar pinched her finger between two of his own and curled it out of his face, puffing grey smoke from that infernal cigar up and over her head.

"I mean it Aurelias" she repeated, knowing full well that she had very little power to enforce any of her rules on him.

They stood outside the small room occupied by Zadge Talran, going over their strategy for his questioning. Or, more correctly, Estelle's strategy. The young man had been through one heck of a night already and she didn't want him any more distressed than was necessary.

As for the girl, she was still out. Admittedly, Kazaar had no choice but to use force with that one - she'd drawn on him first and would have shot for sure. But Zadge was a different style altogether and Estelle wanted to make sure Kazaar understood that.

"Perhaps I should do the questioning"

It was a statement, not a suggestion and it got a response from her partner as he quickly beat her reach for the door handle, muscling his way infront of her.

Estelle gave him the killer look once again, and they stepped into the room.

[Aurelias Kazaar]

Sometimes both of 'em wondered just who th'handler really was. Maybe they were each other's handlers, a way of canceling each other out.

Or muting the supposed 'problems' the other had.

Kazaar let a puff of smoke curl outta his mouth as he stared at their bound prisoner. Okay he wasn't really a prisoner, so t'speak, he was a guy they had questions for.

And quite possibly an offer if it all worked out.

He was still wearing most of his black outfit from earlier, but he'd removed the long-sleeve shirt in favor for a black weave tank top. 'The Twins' rested comfortably in their shoulder holsters and a vibroblade was sheathed in the former bounty hunter's belt.

And his mask was off, letting his face be seen to Zadge. It was an unstated message to the nervous wanna-be.

If ya lie or I think you're lying or ya look at me wrong...ya ain't coming back out.

Kazaar crossed his arms then spoke, his guttural voice causing Zadge to almost lean forward t'hear what he was saying.

"Ya want t'tell us 'bout ya friends? And what ya wanna-bes are trying t'accomplish?"

[Zadge Talran]

"N-not really, n-no." He almost laughed after he said it, the kind of hysterical giggling that couldn't be stopped once it was started. It was the kind of dumb fear that set in once acceptance hits. Zadge studied the man before him--frak he was huge--and wished that he still had the mask on. Ambiguity allowed the man at least a small sense of disbelief that all of this was really happening.

For the first time Zadge took notice that there was also a woman in the room. She was standing just slightly behind the man, right in the line of vision that was splintered by a crack in his glass lense. Zadge tilted his head to get a clearer view. Something about her seemed familiar...

The cafe.

With an almost audible snap of realization, the lanky man turned his full attention on Estelle. "Hey! Hey I know you! You were at the cafe, Renton said you were watchin' us! I'm still not Adam whats-his-name!" Zadge locked eyes with Kazaar and shook his head with an unfamiliar anger pounding in his veins and the vague sense of being cheated without knowing how nagging at him.

"I have nothing to say about any of them."

[Aurelias Kazaar]

Kazaar blew a puff of smoke towards Talran's direction.

Either he was too rattled or just didn't givva damn but Specks didn't move. He took th'smoke right into his face without even a peep.

Frackin' moron.

"Ya think this is a game, Specks," the former bounty hunter's voice was sharp.

"Ya think both of us do this f'kicks?"

He gave Talran a tap on th'head. It wasn't hard, but would hopefully get th'guy thinking a bit. If not...ain't worth using him.

"Ya wanna know why I'm asking 'bout Bretton...'cause he's missin'. Same with some other pals of ya group...Bombie and Warren. Ya know where those guys are?"

Kazaar leaned forward, his face a mask of hardness and anger, "'Cause I think ya might know where they are. Maybe ya had something t'do with it...

"And I think if you don't know...I'm gonna start asking ya girlfriend. 'Cause there's something rotten in ya group...

"And it sure as hell ain't ya methods."

[Estelle Russard]

"Reigns"

Estelle announced quietly from where she stood. Zadge swivelled his eyes from Kazaar to her, clearly not comprehending what she meant. Aurelias continued to stare hard, unblinking.

"Adam Reigns, your'e not Adam Reigns" she clarified.

"Its remembering details like that that can make a difference in what you are trying to do" she continued.

Zadge fidgeted a little and Estelle knew that he was clueing in on where she was going. He could tell Estelle knew he knew things he wasn't saying. It was in the way she spoke, in the unhurried way she allowed him to catch the current of her words.

"You want to protect your friends and be brave. We get that. But you've made mistakes--its how we found you-- and, you might not believe this now, but we are here to help you fix things."

Kazaar puffed more smoke into Talran's eyes, the grey swirls dividing and rolling up and over the eyeglass frames.

"Tell us your interest in finding Bretton and the others. Why look for them now? We know Bretton has been missing for two years...You suddenly remember you havent seen him in a while?"

The rebel duo were certain Talran's motives were honest, but they couldn't be sure about the rest of his rag-tag group. Who was pulling the strings? Was there a sleeper Imperial among them hoping through Zadge's bungling to flush other Alliance sympathizers out in the process?

"We want to know who sent you."

[Zadge Talran]

If these were Imperials, they were very, very good at seeming not to be.

He was not in the least bit convinced that his two captors were of the noble-minded ilk. If they were not Imperial then they were some sect that liked the Empire. Zadge blinked irriated eyes as he was again assaulted with cigar smoke--he didn't dare scowl at the hulk though, because he didn't actually want his face smashed in.

He remembered Renton's words to him as they'd left his apartment. Anyone nabs you, Zee, until they prove where their loyalties lay directly and without a shadow of a doubt, no matter what they say... don't tell 'em a thing.

"Beats me." It wasn't a lie. Zadge shrugged as best he could with bound arms. "I was asked through the grapevine to look for Bretton."

Zadge's father had once told him and his brothers that if a rancor ever cornered them and they had no possible route of escape, they ought to throw stones at it. At the time, Zadge had thought that, in the unlikely event he was ever about to be devoured by a rancor, it was the stupidest possible course of action he could take. But it almost made sense, now.

If you made up your mind that you were dead anyway, a little dignity made all the difference.

It also scared the ever living frell out of him.

"B and Warren, and the others were my friends. So I looked. Besides," And here he swallowed back the bile that threatened to projectile vomit out of his mouth, looked scantways at Kazaar and added, "Anything that m-makes you scumbags scuttle gives me a little thrill."

[Aurelias Kazaar]

"Hah! Ya stupid moron," Kazaar's chuckle wasn't for amusement. It contained bitterness.

"You frackin' di'kut," He shook his annoyed head.

"Kid," the Rebel Agent threw a glance at Estelle, "Bossman sure found a gem when he grabbed you.

"Unlike this wiseass. No wonder th'Imps've been picking 'em off. They got their collective heads stuck so far uppa bantha's...."

The curse trailed off and Kazaar leaned forward again. His black eyes stared into Specks' glasses-covered ones and the former bounty hunter was sure he saw Talran flinch.

If the two were Force Users they'd prolly be able t'stare into each others souls (or at least get a good impression of th'other).

As it was...Kazaar figured...prolly best he wasn't an FU or an armchair shrink. He sure as hell didn't want anyone staring into his soul. Bad enough the Bossman tried t'have a shrink peek into his brain...boy THAT'D gone real well.

He gave a smirk at th'memory, one that quickly hardened.

"Why don'cha start looking 'round, Specks or do I hafta frackin' spell it out?

"Someone's selling ya out. And it ain't t'us."

[Zadge Talran]

"None of them would do that." Zadge replied instantly, wishing the man would ease back and give his thumping heart a break. It was inconceivable to the stringy man that one of his associates could be shopping on the other side. There had been moles before, certainly, and heck, there were even some suspected ones now. But not in the tight little network they'd developed.

He found that his tongue was rather looser when defensive.

Zadge shook his head. "Even if they were they couldn't knock off as many as have gone without it being glaringly clear who was a double agent. We aren't morons," here he would have loved to glare at Kazaar, but his eyes merely skittered across the broad face, "We have checks and balances."

The irritating little voice at the back of his mind was trying to whisper something, but Zadge couldn't quite hear it for all the fear-induced blood that was pounding in his temples. Sweat beaded on his forhead, and his glasses had slipped down the bridge of his nose. "Say it was me--which it's not--I'd be pretty hard pressed to find out where everone lived, who all was involved. Bombie? I'd have no way to contact her, even if my life depended on it. Each one of us knows how to get in touch with one other."

Zadge licked his lips. "And I couldn't ambush the group. Because I never know where we're meeting until an hour before, if I'm lucky. One of our guys tells-"

And then, miraculously, his head stopped throbbing and the voice--that frelling little voice--broke through, exausted.

Renton sends the word where we meet. Not just to you. He knows everyone because everyone elected him the unnofficial martyr.

Renton could do it.

It was difficult, Zadge found, to try and keep ones face passive when one felt violently ill. For a moment he thought he might vomit, because the absolute all of it had hot him and it was enormeous. A feeble attempt at unnacceptance was shot down, because Zadge knew at that moment. It had to be true. It was.

"... We have... a system. We have a system, for s-security." Zadge felt all the spit in his mouth dissapearing, and the start of a dry heave in the caverns of his tiny chest. He bit it back, with difficulty. "Who are you?"

The little voice piped up to answer, but Zadge silenced it--physically, with a shake of his head. The man wanted to hear it aloud.

[Estelle Russard]

Estelle didn't answer his question immediately - instead she cemented what they knew about him.

Something had hit Zadge pretty hard. He'd had a revelation of sorts. That was the way these things worked. There would have been warning signs along the way, to be sure, but he -- like most who served a cause selflessly -- would have had blinders on. For one reason or another, perhaps it was respect for the person, or hero worship maybe...or love. There were a hundred very human reasons to ignore those small foxes that worried the heart about a person's faithfulness. And it was indeed through the heart that one eventually would know. Traitors were above all things, clever and masterfully deceptive. They knew "who" they were often could veil 'what' they did.

"We know who you are Zadge. We know where you live, where you go and who you associate with." Kazaar continued to smoke in silence. "We know you're sympathies lay with the Rebel Alliance" Talran tried, but could not stop himself from doing the tell-tale aversion of his eyes from hers at that truth. Estelle continued. "It was these sympathies that led you to search for James Bretton. Why now, is what we dont know."

She came to stand beside her partner, her body language non-threatening. "We, also work for the Alliance. This here is Agent Kazaar and my name is Estelle. I was Bretton's girlfriend at the time he disappeared."

She leaned forward, speaking in earnest, hoping to show Zadge her sincerity. "Someone in your group is very dangerous and I'd lay odds you suspect who it is."

She looked at Kazaar and then back again to Zadge who was perspiring freely. "How about we test out that security system of yours?"

[Aurelias Kazaar]

"Specially since you 'n ya girlfriend just got plucked outta a meeting," Kazaar's smile was wolfish and a bit odd as smoke curled from his mouth with every syllable.

"Bet whoever's ya traitor is scheduling a meet with th'guy who's his handler."

The former bounty hunter strode over to a smaller computer stationed at th'desk off to his right. He pulled from his jacket pocket the holodisc with his...incursion...into the apartment.

Kazaar slid the disc in, then pressed a few buttons. Nothing happened.

"Dammit," he cursed, "Kid...I frackin' hate technology."

A moment later and th'footage from the raid started playing. There was no audio, but didn't need t'be. The faces said 'nough.

There was Dayboy pullin' the blaster from her pocket before being felled by the stun blast. A couple guys looking like they just needed a change of pants. Couple girls with th'same expression.

And Renton. His arms were crossed in a frustrated matter, but there was something else...almost like he was surprised t'see the raid and annoyed at th'same time.

"Take a lookit this..." Kazaar pointed t'Renton's arms and legs. One of them was an energy arm (http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/Energy-arm) and it looked brand new. The others were newer tech too...stuff from Bioniip Laboratories.

"Wonder how much he paid f'this stuff. Hey Specks...when'd this guy get all his limbs cut off?"

[Zadge Talran]

"... I don't know exactly. A year ago, maybe less." Zadge answered distantly, not looking at the recording as his mind reeled and tried to click everyting into some sort of neat order. He was trying not to allow it to happen, but on their own accord snatches of past conversations were rushing back.

"Yeah, okay, Zee go on ahead, I gotta call Trace and tell him where we're meeting." Renton's easy grin as he pulled out his comm and walked a few steps into the alley for privacy. Zadge went on ahead, into the warehouse.

"Hey, Talran!" Trace jogging over to him from the knot of clustered sympathisers, hand up in greeting.

Renton coming in a few moments later. Zadge curious. "Hey, Trace is here, man."

"I know." And he looked a little annoyed. "I left you a message, Tray."

And of course, when Trace checked, there was one.

It might've been innocent, but now when he thought back Zadge could see sinister hesitance in Renton's face. He tilted his head back, sliding the glasses back up on his nose. "It was just before I met him. He doesn't talk about it."

[Estelle Russard]

"There would be a paper trail for that kind of hardware, wouldn't there?"

She watched as Kazaar magnified the images of Renton's energy arm for closer examination.

"If it was supplied by our side, we'd definitely be able to get something on them - serial numbers, provisional IDs..something"

[Aurelias Kazaar]

Kazaar nodded.

"Specially since that tech's less than a year old. No way they were like that then."

Talran gave him an odd look, as if to say, 'Didn't you just say you hated technology?'

The Brentaal-raised Alderaanian smirked, "I may hate technology, Specks, but I try t'keep up with it."

A puff from his cigar. It was almost finished.

" 'Sides...buddy of mine had t'get one of his arms replaced last year. That energy arm ya pal's wearing looks exactly like it...

"Save f'my buddy sold his ship t'get it..."

Kazaar let his last statement hold in th'air forra bit.

"You know how t'use computers pretty well right?"

Talran nodded.

"Awright...I wanna know more 'bout this buddy of yours. If he's gotta computer see what he's got in it. I wanna know his hangouts and stuff.

"Ya can do that right?"

[Estelle Russard]

Estelle wondered if Zadge would go for it. From the young man's perspective, it was a lot to ask - Trust two scary...well, one scary enough for two...strangers and spy on a friend. Or not.

She considered how she might respond and knew the only way to gain Zadge's trust, was to allow him to give it to them.

"You can check out your friend's system" she said, "And then you can decide if you want to tell us what you learn" She ignored Kazaar's sharp look her way and continued. "We will be available if you want us, or need us. But we wont contact you again."

[Zadge Talran]

He hesitated, suddenly exhausted by the emotionally taxing path his day had taken. Zadge hadn't thought ordering takeout could be this dangerous and the man vowed never to ask for delivery again.

It would have been very easy to go home and pretend as if all of this were a bad dream. Zadge was incredibly skilled in the art of denial--it was imperative to the self-esteem of a certified nerd. However this time it was different. This time there were lives at stake. The sick feeling in his stomach hadn't gone away.

Slowly Zadge nodded, the small element of control given him cementing his decision. "Fine." he sighed, his glasses sliding down in defeat. Wearily the man glanced at the two agents. "But what do I say? No one's going to believe I survived an Imperial pick up and I can't very well let on who you really are if I'm going to be spying on my best friend."

[Aurelias Kazaar]

Kazaar didn't smirk. Not this time. Instead his face retained a deadly serious look which was all too familiar to him personally.

Slowly, he rose from his seat and pressed a button onna HoloNet Feed.

The words scrawled across: Five Rebel Sympathizers Taken In Daring Inquisitor Apartment Raid On Coruscant. One Still At Large...

The Rebel Agent crossed his arms as he took one last puff from his cigar. Then he set it down in an ash tray and stared at the programmer.

"Think you're gonna hafta explain how ya got kidnapped now?" his look was still deadly.

"I don't think it's you they're lookin' for."

[Zadge Talran]

Reports like that were nothing new. They were weekly, daily occurences. Normally Zadge viewed them with the impassioned frustration and outrage which came with being a bona fide underground. This time his throat just tightened and a slick knot slid into the pit of his belly. These were people he knew. People Renton knew.

These were people Renton goofed off with.

These were people Renton got drunk with.

These were people Renton plotted and connived with (against?).

But the scariest of all: these were people who trusted him with not just their lives, but the lives of others. If he hadn't been completely willing before, Zadge was now putty. He'd have blacked his own eye to make a believable getaway story, if it came to it.

Which it wouldn't, by the looks of things. Resolutely the man shook his head 'no' in response to Kazaar. Looking down at his shoes, Zadge grit his teeth. "I'll have information in two days."

No promises of contacting the agents, though the probability was there.

[Aurelias Kazaar]

'The Kid's' face showed concern as she saw how resolute Talran was. Something indeed had shaken him and Zadge would probably now be willing to work with them.

"Are you sure?" she asked plainly, while Kazaar pulled another cigar from his jacket pocket.

This was the type of thing she was better at doin' anyway. The former bounty hunter was known for his...persuasiveness...'specially when it came t'getting info. 'Course it normally involved dangling someone from a 12-story building or slowly removing body parts and that's not exactly what they wanted t'accomplish here.

Now, 'The Kid' looked better than he did anyway, but when she talked she had a certain kindness 'round her. It was almost as though even with her boyfriend dyin', colleagues getting whacked onna regular basis, and the things she'd suffered at the hands of Ghlar Timandar she still had one thing in her pretty little mind.

Hope.

Or at least a helluva not more than Kazaar ever had.

Maybe that's why she was so frackin' good, the Rebel Spy never bothered t'try to figure out. Though she really did do 'er best t'counter his abrasiveness, which wasn't all that bad either.

Estelle was still speaking, "It's your choice, no one is going to force you to do something you don't want to do."

She gave an easy smile, "Not even Kazaar."

[Zadge Talran]

"Two days." Zadge repeated, not making eye contact. The man wriggled his bound hands, beginning to go numb. "You gonna let me go or what?"

[Aurelias Kazaar]

Without a sound, Kazaar unhooked the cuffs. 'Specks' rubbed his wrists trying t'get circulation back in 'em and the former bounty hunter smirked.

"What about ya girlfriend?" he asked through cigar-clenched teeth, "She gonna be a problem?"

It was then th'office shook flew open and a tattooed (and very pissed off) Dayboy leaped in. Her eyes flashed and she carried a fire extinguisher or some sort device.

"Let him go!" she hollered and started walking towards the trio.

"Let him go or I'll kill you all!"

[Zadge Talran]

Things had reached the point where surprise didn't really count anymore. When Dayboy burst in, Zadge merely surveyed her with weary appreciation. The man raised his uncuffed hands and took a step towards the seething woman who was brandishing... a fire extinguisher? A piece of pipe? It might have been funny in another place and time.

"Day, Day, it's alright. They already did." Zadge shook his head and wrapped his arms over his chest, still sweating but now from chills not fright.

"It was just a mistake. They thought we were Imperial hacks. We're all on the same side."

[Aurelias Kazaar]

There was an odd sound in the room. It was a low, throbbing sound...like a speeder bike only not so much. It took Zadge a couple moments t'realize it was Kazaar's laughter.

He was laughing!?!

"You're girlfriend's got spunk, Specks," the Rebel Agent took a puff from his cigar. If Zadge hadn't been so used t'tobacco he prolly woulda swooned at the smell. Damn those things were strong.

"So you gonna set down," more laughter, "That 'weapon' of yours. Or am I gonna hafta disarm ya?"

Very slowly th'fire extinguisher was placed on the floor and the quartet stared at each other.

"Nice tats," Kazaar gave a nod, "Where'd ya get 'em done?"

[Zadge Talran]

Dayboy, although less livid, sneered and gestured with one elegantely tatooed finger.

There was a trace of a bruise on one of her cheeks, and one of her pillowed lips was split. Unlike Zadge she had not come quietly, and whoever had been in the interrogation room with her was bound to look worse. She eyed Russard, sussed her out as non-threatening, and then went back to perusing Kazaar. Weight was shifted to one hip and a chin was jutted out. "Talran, what the frell is going on?"

He sighed; he wasn't about to tell Dayboy about Renton. Not that she wasn't loyal, she was to a fault, but she'd also been loyal all the way back to R's flat last week. "Like I said it was a mistake." Dayboy snorted.

"Great. So then we can leave and let these yahoos practice their ambushing." She glared at Kazaar again and Zadge physically winced. He'd seen looks like those before. Usually before Dayboy slugged someone. "Unless the dewback has anymore questions? Want to know where I got my nose ring?"

[Aurelias Kazaar]

Kazaar's retort was cut off quickly by 'The Kid'.

"I think we should all calm down," she said plaintively, "Everyone here is simply doing their job. You were doing your best to keep a low profile..."

Kazaar muttered something unrecognizable, but it was prolly something rude. She elbowed him quickly.

"And we were doing our job. We still have some questions, but I think right now we're finished with questions," she smiled, "Is you anything you'd like to know? We can't answer everything, but we can certainly give a couple answers."

[Zadge Talran]

"No, we're just gonna--" Zadge was cut off by Dayboy, who jerked a head towards him.

"Yeah; how the frak could you peg Talran as an Imp? He's a wet rag."

Zadge bristled indignantly. "Hey! I'm standing right here!" He waved a hand in front of Dayboy's face, although not close enough for her to grab because she was freakishly strong and he liked all his fingers unbroken. Dayboy looked unmoved, shooting him a wicked smirk.

With an air of wounded superiority, Zadge shook his head at Estelle. "We're going to leave. Two days and I'll have information."

"Information? What're you talking about, what kind of 'information' Zee?" Dayboy narrowed her bright green eyes. He adjusted his glasses with one hand while he tugged one her arms with the other.

"That Bretton stuff, Day." Through thick lenses, Zadge cast a rather obvious warning look at Kazaar and Russard.

[Aurelias Kazaar]

Kazaar shook his head, as if t'say, 'Whatever'.

Then he gave a nasty smirk, "If ya wanna-bes think we're just gonna let ya walk outta here without covering out as-"

Again, Estelle quickly interupted him, "I think what he means. Is because we don't know you, we're going to have to ask you to allow yourself to be blindfolded."

She shot a look at her handler, then pulled him aside.

"Kazaar," she hissed, "These guys could be allies. Did you treat the Bossma-Director Belargic like this when you were hired?"

Kazaar's smirk was mixed with a smile, "Nah...I treated him worse. Bossman knew his stuff, but he was frackin' green. These guys...they're not even close t'green."

'The Kid's' look was determined, "They can help us. We both know this. Please..."

He glared at her, "Awright...I'll be nice."

The Rebel Agent did his best t'smile and stared at the two 'wanna-bes', "Look...like she said. We don't know ya. And I ain't 'bout t'risk exposing us if you two run to th'nearest Imp with our location...shaddup 'Tats' I ain't finished.

"We're gonna trust ya not to go t'em...if you'll trust us with letting us blindfold ya.

"'Sides...I ain't in th'mood t'scoop ya eyeballs outta ya sockets."

[Zadge Talran]

The fact that only a small twinge of fear bloomed in his chest was a good one. It meant that he was beginning to fear Kazaars threats less; instead of a deathly terror, there was a sharp dread.

Dayboy opened her mouth to protest or let fly a smart remark, but paused at a pleading look from Zadge. With a roll of her pretty eyes, the woman conceded. It was a shock that she took him seriously, and for a moment Zadge thought he could feel his ego popping up a notch or two.

Estelle procurred a pair of black cloth wraps, and she skillfully (she'd had enough practice on him today, for frells sake) blinded Zadge, removing his glasses first and slipping them into his hand. Beside him Dayboy muttered something which he took to mean Kazaar was doing the honors on the skinheaded toughgirl.

It didn't matter that the blindfold was secured, Zadge kept his eyes shut tightly anyway. "Lead on."

On to exposing his best mate and mentor. Hurrah.

[Aurelias Kazaar]

Estelle and Kazaar dropped 'the wanna-bes' about a mile away from Talran's apartment. They unblindfolded 'em and prepared t'send 'em on their way.

Zadge pressed his glasses back against his nose and Kazaar pulled him aside, "I wouldn't go back t'ya apartment, Specks," he whispered inna harsh tone.

"The Imps might be farqueheads but they're prolly watching it. Same with ya girlfriend's place."

The Rebel Agent pressed 50 creds into the slicer's hands, "Go find a place t'stay. And if ya tell anyone I gave this to ya, I will kill you."

Kazaar gave a dark look t'show he was 'serious', "See ya inna couple days, 'Wanna-be'."

A moment later, Zadge and Dayboy were just another couple on the streets of Coruscant.

[Estelle Russard]

Estelle felt Kazaar watching her. She expelled a slow breath, yet kept her eyes on Zadge and Dayboy until they disappeared completely into the crowded Coruscant street.

"Hell kid," he remarked dryly, reading her very thoughts, "...all life's a risk -- for those two as much as for anybody else."

She knew it was true, but for Specs and Dayboy, the risks had just been skyrocketed overnight, thanks to them.

Aurelias dismissed the topic in his usual cavalier fashion, "Let's get some food - Im starvin"

Estelle found she was suddenly hungry too, and smiled as she said

"Chinese sounds good"


Kazaar grinned as he steered the speeder back into the night.