Imperial Intrigues: Games of Secrecy

[Wysperz]

The days of being hounded by fans are but a fading memory for one young woman who originates from Chandrila. She left home for Coruscant at the tender age of sixteen to fulfill her dream of becoming an actress. At first, many doors were slammed in her face. Others were opened, a little too open for she wasn't searching for that kind of fame. No. She wanted to be giving speeches before other famous stars and across the galactic holovid as she thanked everyone who was responsible in helping her to win the Best Actress award.

After doing many commercials, modeling shoots, filling parts in other popular holovid shows and films as an extra, she finally got her big break.

Isriner Korosson, popular star of the very popular holovid film titled Easy Spacer, discovered her; so to speak. She was waiting tables at a popular restaurant atop of the Coruscant Plaza hotel and it was his table she was assigned to that evening.

Of course, Isriner Korosson was one of the hottest actors in film and her bedroom walls were covered with his images. Posters, autographed photos, recordings of interviews, etc. Along her shelves she had every film he was ever in, lined up neatly in chronological order.

The minute she saw him, her hands began to shake and her palms began to sweat. She was so nervous! Here she was, about to wait on one of the hottest, most popular film stars of all time!

'Just relax. Remember to breathe. Think of him as just another customer.', she told herself over and over. Over to the table she went ... and immediately froze in place with her jaw agape.

Isriner Korosson, though most likely use to receiving such reactions, was everything she expected him to be. Charming, witty, handsome. The list goes on. Quickly, she apologized to him, blushing deeply; embarassed at her lack of professionalism. He insisted that it was all right. Then, the very unexpected happened. He asked her to sit down for a moment, stating that there's something about her which intrigues him.

Now, most would be thinking things such as: "Yeah, that's a typical line that the movie stars use to get into a girl's pants." Or: "And you fell for that!?". But when standing there, among such ... such .. greatness -

Let's just say that those thoughts are not going through your head. Afraid that she may get in trouble, or even fired, she just sat against the edge of the seat and tried to remain calm and poised.

They spoke. It was her voice which had piqued his curiousity the most. He stated that he thought she was just so nervous around him that she couldn't seem to find her voice. To which she replied with a simple shake of her head.

Only she knows her true name; which has not been spoken since she was three years of age. While out with her father one day, the air raid sirens went off. Imperials were attacking the planet! Her father scooped her up into his arms and ran for cover. They made it, however, a shot fired from above had hit the supporting beams of the plaza they were in, forcing the building to collapse.

When she was pulled out of the rubble three days later, the rescue team said it was a miracle she was still alive. By all accounts, she should have been killed. If it were one beam crashing down upon the end of another and shifting it off of her ... she wouldn't have been talking with her favorite actor.

Though she lived, she lost her voice. Her windpipe was crushed. If it weren't for the beams shifting .... well ... now she can only speak at the tone of a whisper. Thus, her nickname had become Wysperz and its been with her ever since.

********


Four months later:


Isriner Korosson once again returned to the restaurant, this time seeking out the one with the quiet voice. "I have a part for you in Easy Spacer .. that is, if you want it."

As they say in the industry - the rest is history.

However, tragedy struck as filming of Easy Spacer II: Into the Void was nearly finished. A stunt had gone terribly wrong, killing Isriner Korosson instantly. The press that followed was critical - to state politely. Accusations were slung, claiming that the film was sending secret encrypted messages to Alliance members, giving them information concerning Imperial activity and plans to help coordinate an attack. Other accusations claim that Isriner Korosson was murdered and that the incident was made to look like an accident. Investigations went on and still, his death was ruled as an accident.

But, in turn, it seemed to help bolster her career in acting. She was asked to star in a new holovid titled Dark Romance, a daily soap opera.

The show enjoyed a decent run of five years. The show was cancelled simply due to having run out of storylines to write about. Plus, political pressures from Imperials having much say in what was and was not said and done in the show pretty much killed it.

*******

With her career as a famous actress over, thanks to one of the worst holofilms ever produced, Wysperz found herself enjoying all of the free time now on her hands. However, occurances which she considers strange have seem to have cropped up. For instance, just last month someone claiming to be a film historian showed up on her doorstep, asking far too many questions about Isriner Korosson; questions that she felt a film historian would not be or should not be asking if they were working on a documentary about the man.

Gracefully, she got rid of the person. But, something about it didn't sit too right with her so she strolled out onto her balcony and watched for the person to exit from the building which houses her penthouse. It took a few minutes. He walked up the block and got into a vehicle that looked to be too official.

Another incident involves the fact that she's been followed lately. Well ... she feels she's being followed. She just has the feeling that there are several sets of eyes on her back almost all the time. It's creepy and scares her.

Today, she finds herself seated at a small desk in the Coruscant library. She was told she'd be met by someone who could help her here. Each face that passes, she studies, wondering if its one of those whose been lurking in the shadows lately, following her every move.

[Cyrel Annat]

Not a common place for the man to be, though he had spent a time or two within its walls when his own archival system in his starfighter could not find info he needed. This one was a bit different, having been notified by one of his contacts of an old friend of his that may need help. Cyrel, of course, agreed to at least find out the details and decide from there, though most likely, he would agree to help. He had yet to refuse someone in need, no matter the repercussions it may have.

And while there were far more capable people within Coruscant that could undertake such a task, none of them had been called in for a personal favor. Not that he minded, since it did keep him busy. He never was one to sit still for long.

Rows upon rows of shelves lined one of the hallways, currently the hallway that the brown-robed figure stepped down. Eyes of a similar color scanned around the area, one hand raising briefly to brush against his chin before letting it rest at his side again. Cyrel had been told that the woman would be easy to recognize, and sadly, Cyrel had to admit that he had seen one of the episodes that she starred in. Once. Not that it was bad, just not his cup of tea.

Continuing into another small opening where tables were scattered around, his gaze did finally rest on the woman in question. Indeed, she was still quite striking and was easy as ever to spot. Not a small grin rested behind the veil of facial hair around his mouth as he continued towards her, pausing across the table from her.

"I beg your pardon, Miss, but could you recommend a good theater?"

[Wysperz]

Being a famous film/holovid star does afford one certain luxuries most are not afforded unless they are made of money. Traveling the galaxy, visiting exotic locales, meeting Heads of State and much more.

Though the Jedi Knights do not see themselves the way others do, they are still celebraties in their own ways. Being described as the Saviors of the Galaxy ... well, whether they wanted fame or not ... they have it.

Spotting the brown-robed one wasn't all that difficult. The one thing that makes him stand out from the other brown-robed ones milling around the library is the facial hair. Most male Jedi do not sport upper lip fuzz, but somehow ... this seems to suit the man sporting it now.

Stories told of the Saviors of the Galaxy include stating the fact that they are one form of a 'governing' body which can be trusted. Their actions have backed their words time and time again.

However, with other accusations that have been thrown around about the former producer/director of the films and holovid series she's starred in, Wysperz isn't so sure anymore of whom she can trust.

Seeing the robed one heading over in her direction, she rises from the chair slowly, keeping untrusting eyes on the man. She may be in her late twenties, but she's no stranger to other tales of fallen Jedi which have been narrated over the years.

"I could ... however, the directions on how to get there usually confuse most people who are not familiar with the Entertainment District."

'This is the man.', she thinks to herself. She knows this because of the question posed. The one man she knows she can trust explicitly arranged this meeting.

He's now dead.

"Maybe it would be best for me to take you there."

Anyone passing by, or eavesdropping, wouldn't think twice about the conversation going on between the two. In fact, some onlookers from afar might even think that Cyrel was just asking for an autograph or maybe even attempting to be so bold as to asking the young (former) movie star out for dinner.

For appearances sake, she manages a cordial grin. It might be a little strained for under circumstances like these, its a little hard to truly smile. She's scared and rightfully so. Sure, she's had to deal with crazed fans and even a derranged stalker during her film career, but having those around you killed off one by one is far scarier than having bodyguards around you night and day because some whack job thinks his ultimate fantasy is going to be a reality.

[Cyrel Annat]

The robed man offers a formal bow, accompanied by another smile that at one point in time might have belonged to a less civilized man. He wasn't born a Jedi, after all, and his training was unconventional. One man had taught him a great deal, and Cyrel was forced to finish up the rest on his own. His training as a whole was incomplete, and likely would remain thus. The rogue did what he could during his free time to continue to hone the skills that he did possess. If he could not become a Master, he could at least learn to master what he did know.

"I would be most honored if you would accompany me, Miss." By his words and actions now, though, it was easy to see that he was far more civilized now than he may have been before, and did have a certain knack for diplomacy.

While his eyes remained on the woman, his senses went outwards to the near vicinity, just to make sure that he could not detect any ill will towards the woman. Thankfully, he sensed nothing out of the ordinary. "I have arranged transportation, unless you wish to provide that yourself."

He wouldn't blame her at all for not trusting him. He didn't know much of the situation, but the one that had requested the aid on behalf of the woman was now dead. In her situation, he wouldn't trust himself either.

[Wysperz]

Diplomacy. Yes, even those in the limelight must execute diplomacy at times. However, it would not be appropriate for Wysperz to bow in return. Instead, she nods subtlely to his chivalry. Cyrel might notice as he's reaching out with the force to search for any potential dangers, Wysperz eyes stray from his visage, looking to some of those nearby, wondering if one of them might be one of them.

But who are they? She honestly does not know. A nagging feeling which has remained with her ever since the supposed film historian started snooping around tells her that whatever this is ... they have Imperial ties; if not the Imperials themselves.

"Transportation that you have arranged already is fine."

Though they are in a very public place and she is currently in the company of a Jedi doesn't mean that harm cannot come to her. However, she figures that this Jedi standing before her could have killed her the moment he saw her, using the Force to do so, if he wasn't what his appearance dictates that he is.

Something tells her that it's all right to go with the man, so she follows him out of the library and into his vehicle.

"Three blocks east, then make a right. Another ten miles then make another right. There's a parking garage beneath the theater."

In all actuality, she didn't just give directions to the theater. She gave directions to the area she feels is the safest for now. They can speak more once she is sure its safe to do so.

[Cyrel Annat]

"As you wish," is his simple reply before he does lead the way out of the library, still keeping his senses attuned to the surroundings. In a way, he figured that this was too public of a place for anything to be attempted, though there was the high likelihood that if she were being followed, it would continue.

With them moving to another locale, another equally populated, it would help to see if they were being followed. Not many people, after all, would travel from the library to the theater at this exact moment. Smart money would have said that no one else would be.

The speeder that he used in the city was waiting just outside, and after they are both strapped in and secured, he starts off in the direction that she gave him.

"Have you seen this performance before?"

[Wysperz]

"No. Though I've heard that the mystery and dangers acted out in it make it feel as if you're right there in the middle of it all."

Unfortunately, she isn't joking. Too bad the part she's playing in this performance isn't an act. It's the real thing. Eyes of deep silver, outlined by midnight blue are ever moving as the speeder passes through the streets. Wary of those in the crowds, those standing on corners waiting for traffic to stop so they may cross and even those traveling by speeder behind them. She hates this. She hates feeling as though she has to constantly look over her shoulder.

The last time she had to live this way involved a derranged fan who was very insistant that he'd own her; possess her as if she were a rare, priceless piece of art meant to be put on display but never touched - at least not by anyone but himself. Her stalker was caught roughly six months after his threats and eerie letters began, but for those six months, Wysperz was literally terrified to leave her own penthouse.

Once the psycho was caught and locked away, she vowed that she'd never look over her shoulder again.

Some vow. That's a vow she's broken in the past month or so when all of these weird things started occurring.

"There's no need to be so formal. I'm just a person. Please ... call me Wysperz." As if she really needed to introduce herself. She'd be surprised if the man seated next to her operating the speeder hasn't heard of her. But, she has given him her youth-given nickname which also doubles as her stage name. Not her true name. Even that is one bit of information about her private life the media has never been able to discover.

Having been on Coruscant for the past number of years, most of the local people in the area she resides, works and shops in have become accustomed to seeing the starlet out amongst the public. Sure, there was a long while there where she'd get stopped by a huge crowd and asked for autographs, photo opportunities and all that other not-so-fun stuff, but that tapered off. There are still days throughout the year when tourists will spot her and rush over, gushing and crying, pawing at her to give them an autograph. She obliges, still.

[Cyrel Annat]

"Wysperz, it is. I am Cyrel Annat."

This jaunt through the city is a little less hectic than the last one that he took, weaving in and out of traffic at higher speeds than likely was prudent. But when it came to piloting a craft, be it speeder, starfighter or even a small freighter, he was more than equal to the task.

"Relax. Coruscant is one of the easiest places to lose someone if need be. I am here to help you, and to protect you."

Which she likely knew about already. If she didn't expect it, perhaps it would be a pleasant surprise. Sure, he had been asked to help and only after the death of the one that requested it, did he wonder and come to realize how serious the situation was. This would not be a simple hop planet and re-locate mission. This could very well bring about another test of his skill with a blade, and also the piloting bit.

The speeder continues along as directed, keeping in line with a string of traffic and thus far, he had not sensed or seen anyone trailing them.

[Wysperz]

"An honor to meet you, Cyrel. Though, I wish the circumstances for our meeting were not what they currently are."

Her attention to the people and vehicles within their vicinty is lured to Cyrel as he states he is here to help and protect her. Or maybe it was the part when he told her to relax. It matters not, really. Yes, it is a pleasant surprise to hear, but does she really believe him?

Deep down? Yes, she does. Though her mind still remains alert and may even be trying to come up with numerous reasons about not trusting the man next to her.

"How far does your protection extend, Cyrel?", she inquires. "You do realize that just by being with me, it could and most likely will get you - get us - both killed, don't you?"

[Cyrel Annat]

"If this had been the first time those words were spoken to me, it might disturb me. But as it stands, I have heard those words before and yet, here I remain. My protection extends as far as it needs to in order to fulfill my promise."

And it wasn't the first time he had gotten himself involved in something quite dangerous. The little altercation with Imperials on Nar Shaddaa a couple years ago proved that fact. As well as more than a couple other instances since then. Trouble seemed to be drawn to him, and he to it. Nothing intentional, just that the favors that he answered, the requests he accepted, none of them ever seemed entirely easy. Then again, nothing in life was easy.

The speeder eases to the right at the appropriate corner and continues on its way. The theater was a bit farther away than he had remembered it being, just in passing, of course. It was rare that he had the time to do much of anything on his own time, save for continued training and meditation. He had a feeling that tonight would be no different. Remaining in the public eye was good to an extent, but they would not be able to openly discuss much of anything within that public eye.

The decision, of course, would be hers.

[Wysperz]

Silence settles between them for a little bit. 'Maybe he is genuine.', she thinks.

Without saying anything or even asking his permission, she begins rummaging around in the speeder. A look in the small compartment set into the dash, a few pokes into other small areas here and there.

"I really should try not to be so paranoid.", she says, sitting back against the seat.

"I apologize, I was just making sure there weren't any obvious recording devices. Though, I suppose if there are, they wouldn't be left out where they could be easier found."

She rubs her brow a few times, the threat of a dull nagging headache lurking behind her eyes.

"Cyrel. I'm going to go out on a limb here and trust you a bit further. I'm asking if you would take us some place where we will be able to speak freely and openly. Some where safe to do so. I'm having doubts about heading to the theater."

Call it paranoia. Call it women's intuition. Call it whatever you want. Somewhere deep down inside is a voice that is practically shouting to stay away from the theater.

[Cyrel Annat]

"That's a relief to hear. You see, I'm not particularly fond of theater. As far as trusting me, I do not expect you to. You do not know me and I do not know you. All we have is a mutual friend between us."

Which was the truth. Certainly he had heard of her before, but that was a while ago and nothing that really stuck in his mind. He was also very relieved that the theater was out, though now it was a matter of finding a place private enough that they could talk, without being *too* private.

The safest place in the city was not open to either of them, though he really wondered how private that would be anyway. For now, he does continue towards the theater, in his mind trying to decide where would be best.

"I am open to suggestions if you have them. I know of one place that may serve us in this manner, but if you have somewhere else you would prefer, I would not object."

[Wysperz]

"The theater is wonderful. Of course, it depends on what you see for your first experience. But it's a love hate feeling for the theater. You'll either love it or hate it. There is no in between."

They still had a couple more miles before reaching the theater. Afternoon traffic has begun to accumulate with people trying to rush back to work. The lunch hour over.

Her penthouse is the first place that comes to mind as far as suggestions go. However, she doesn't feel safe there and it could prove to be dangerous should they show up there.

"Let's head over to the Outlander Club. It's on Vos Gesal Street. Pretty popular place and it should be alright to talk there. Oh, in case you aren't familiar with it, it's in the Uscru District."

[Cyrel Annat]

"I've heard stories, never been there, though. It is as good a place as any, and from some of those stories, not a likely choice for us to go so it may work to our advantage."

And so at the next corner, the speeder transporting the two of them turns again to head in that direction. Thus far, his senses had still picked up nothing, which was another relief of sorts. In his mind, he had already gone over the possibilities for the near future, the worst being some manner of altercation.

He did hope to avoid anything of the sort, preferring to avoid battle when possible. One of the codes that he did agree with and did stick to. Far too often his hand had been forced the other way.

[Wysperz]

The Outlander has gone through a few changes along with a few changes in management. When originated, it was the hotspot for Coruscants social elite, afficianados of the game Outlander. As Coruscants population grew, the rise of other clubs and hot nightspots pushed the Outlander into the background, passing as only passe among the elitists of society. Once again, the Outlander is back in the limelight. Those of uppercrust society enjoy hob-nobbing with others of their kind, snubbing their noses in the air at those who simply do not belong in their circle.

As Cyrel and Wysperz enter, heads turn. It's been at least two years since she was last seen in this place. Whispers are heard spreading around the room faster than a wildfire. Whether those whispers are about her or Cyrel is up to the imagination. Conceivably, they very well could be focused on Cyrel. After all, it's not every day that a Jedi is seen entering the club. Nor is it everyday that a Jedi enters the club escorting a film star.

The interior of the club is decorated lavishly. Plush deep maroon carpet, rich mahogony trimming the walls, accents of gold used to highlight certain features throughout the entirety of the club. Sconces along the walls provide the dim lighting, adding to the relaxed ambiance of the place.

In a fluster, the host grabs two menus and bustles right over, gushing a thousand apologies at not seating them immediately.

"Private booth for two."

In truth, Wysperz cannot believe that she's back in the Outlander. She can't stand those who snub their noses at those who are not of their social standing.

The hostess leads them through the club and up a set of carpeted stairs. The private booths are on the second floor balcony. Once seated, she flips open a menu and lays it on the table, off to her left.

"Feel free to order. We may be here for a little while. I'm sure you have questions and there is plenty to talk about."

[Cyrel Annat]

Well, to the place's credit, it was a far cry better than what he had heard, and in his mind, the attention was entirely upon his companion. There was nothing noteworthy about the robed man, at least in his mind. His name was known only to a few, after all, and had never been one to want his name known to more than that. His was not such a life.

Once settled into their booth, with a fairly thorough glance around the establishment on the way there, his eyes finally return to the silver-haired beauty across from him. "As I am certain that you do as well. However, perhaps it would be best if you start out by telling me what you know, or what it is you're so afraid of. The more that I know, the better chance I have to protect you - which I vow to do from this point forth."

Which was not something to be taken, or offered lightly.

[Wysperz]

Wysperz doesn't say much of anything aside from idle bits of conversation until the waiter had come, taken their order, then left. Since their meal wouldn't be delivered for around fifteen to twenty minutes, she figures this is as good a time as any to begin.

"I'm not sure how or where to begin...", she starts with, pausing for a brief second to cast a downward glance to the main floor below. "If you've ever seen me in films or on a long-run holovid soap opera known as Dark Romance, then you'd most likely know who Isriner Korosson is.

"If you know whom he is, then you also know about the controversies which still surround his death. Ch'been, director and producer of Easy Spacer and Dark Romance has also been in the headlines - and for quite some time."

The waiter approaches, delivering their drinks and hurries off, giving the two their privacy once again.

"In short, the unproven accusations all claim the same thing - Isriner Korosson and Ch'been are - or had been - allied with the Alliance and had been using the films and holovid series to send specially encrypted messages to the Alliance. These accusations state that the viewing public would not have known about any of this; only those who work for Alliance intelligence would be able to decipher these messages."

The fluted glass is lifted from the table and she sips the contents a few times, giving Cyrel time to jump in with any questions he might have.

[Cyrel Annat]

"Both of them are now dead, and you think that you might be next because of your association with them?"

Whether or not she was, in fact, involved in it all did not concern him greatly, and the rumors were more widely spread than she likely realized. He had no love for the Imperials, as they had been responsible for more than a few inconveniences in his life, not the least of which resulting in the death of his former master. Something told him that she was not involved, though, just an unknowing pawn in the middle of it all. For her, the acting had been a way of life, a job.

Another quick scan around them, and briefly to the main floor below before he lifts his glass for a small sip as well. As far as actual questions, he did not have any. It was apparent that this would be much more than the case of an obsessed fan or stalker. This would take a bit of work.

[Wysperz]

She nods, easing her glass down to the table just before laying her crossed arms against the edge of the table.

"Though, I'm not so sure. Mmm ... I think it was a month or so ago, give or take a few weeks, I had a visitor. This visitor claimed to be a film historian of sorts and proceeded to tell me that he was trying to learn more about Isriner Korosson. For the purposes of doing a holovid biography about him.

"He then started asking questions that made me feel uncomfortable. I mean, he was asking things that anyone doing biographical research wouldn't be asking. I managed to get the guy out of my penthouse, but something just didn't feel right. I watched from my balcony for this man to leave the building. He was met by two other men and got into a vehicle that looked very official."

Sure. Now that she tells the tale aloud, she sees just how it sounds. Like a paranoid woman making something big out of what most would consider nothing at all.

"Also, I'm fairly certain that I am or have been followed. There is one face I keep seeing in the crowd. Just a brief glance, but I see this person at least three or four days out of the week.

"There's been some other things, too, but ...."

She sighs and glances around.

"Boy. I'm not so sure I'm doing a very good job with this. I admit, it all sounds rather strange. Sounds like something movies are made from."

Her expression changes, morphing slowly to emphasize what she speaks next.

"I'm really frightened, Cyrel. I know how crazy this all sounds so far, but I assure you that I am not paranoid and I'm not letting my imagination run wild."

[Cyrel Annat]

"It does sound like quite the story, but I do believe you. Even if it does turn out to be nothing, which would be best, I am not going to take this situation lightly. Do you see this person in unusual places? I mean, if it's a random place that you go to, is this person there?"

It did sound like something from a movie, as she stated, but in many of those movies, the person with the presumed paranoia was right. And one thing that he could tell, whether true or not, was that she was genuinely scared. Yes, she had stated as much, but he could sense it in her as well.

"You also said something about other things going on. What else have you noticed happening that strikes you as out of the ordinary?"

[Wysperz]

"Two datadisks were left in my mailbox. No return address, no postmark. One was just holo footage of the stunt that killed Isriner. The other? "

She pauses, shrugging both of her shoulders, tuning her palms upwards, indicating that she has no idea.

"I don't know. I didn't recognize the language, species or even the location. It was more like someone pieced together different images from varying news stories. Or something. Much of it was blurred, as if someone panned a camera too quickly. Like I said, it didn't make any sense to me at all."

Her drink is finished and she sits up a bit, stretching her shoulders a bit by rolling them lightly a few times. With an elbow propped against the table, she reaches up and rubs the back of her neck, as if easing away weariness settling into her muscles.

"As for seeing someone and getting the feeling of being watched? I can't really think of anything that can't be explained by other reasons. For example, I've seen him in the lobby of my building a few times. If I were to go to the authorities, they'd pass it off as he could live in the building. Mmm ..."

She lowers her hand, fidgeting with the utensils wrapped up neatly in a napkin, thinking.

"I've seen him at the plaza where I shop, in the park I like to jog in and at the theater. In fact, he's at the theater the same evenings that I am nine times out of ten."

Wysperz looks to Cyrel, the expression in her eyes changes subtlely. She loves doing these things; jogging, the theater, getting out and enjoying the things that make her happy.

"I've stopped doing these things because ... Well. Because I'm scared. I mean just because this man frequents all of these very public places almost every day or night that I do, doesn't constitute stalking or following. It could just be coincidence. But ... it doesn't feel coincidental."

[Cyrel Annat]

While she continues to explain things to him, his eyes scan over the lower level of the Outlander once again, hoping to catch someone eyeing their table a bit too much. There was still nothing out of the ordinary to be noted, nor any disturbances that he could sense. His dark gaze returns to Wysperz towards the end of her words, his eyes narrowing slightly.

"It does not sound coincidental, either. Do you still have the datapads with you or have you left them somewhere?"

That was only one half of the questions that he had. The other would wait a moment or two. If she had the datapads with her now, it would make the next question a bit easier. If not, there would be more to discuss. Either way, there was still plenty left to be said between the two, as well as a couple decisions to be made.

[Wysperz]

She shakes her head. "No. I placed them in my safety deposit box at the bank. I figured that I should hang on to them, just in case, and that it'd be best to not keep them in the penthouse. Not sure why I thought that, I just did."

She was about to continue with other things when the waiter returned. He presented their dinners and poured the two fresh glasses of wine. To pass the short amount of time that the waiter was present and silence reigned, she draped her napkin across her lap and unravelled her silverware.

"Thank you." A polite dismissal of the waiter who then performs a curt slightly bow at the waist and hurries off. Wysperz brows rise and she shakes her head gently, annoyed with the young man's behavior.

[Cyrel Annat]

A polite nod of thanks is offered to the waiter and once the man is gone, his eyes return to the woman across from him. His brows furrow just a bit at the mention of her not having the datapads, though there would be time to retrieve them by the end of the day.

"We will need to get them from that box, provided that they have not disappeared."

A brief pause as he sips from the glass of wine, again glancing around a bit. In his mind, he was already going over a few different possibilities, one of which being that he go against his usual pasttime and venture to the theater for the night, just to see if her admirer might show up. With him there, the likelihood for that was quite slim, but there still was a chance.

"What do you want to do?"

[Wysperz]

His question brings a smile to her face. "I was hoping you'd know what to do next. We can go get those disks when we're through here. I'm sure they haven't disappeared. It'd be virtually impossible for someone other than myself to access the safety deposit box. Unless someone has the same palm print as I do, that is."

A sip of wine is taken then a bite or two of her meal, washed down with one more sip of wine.

"Do you think it'd be all right to return to the penthouse tonight? You could review those disks on my datapad there and maybe we can figure out what to do from there."

[Cyrel Annat]

"Unless there are in fact people after you who have access to the safety deposit systems. It's not unheard of for people to hack into such things and alter key components. As far as the penthouse, we can stop there long enough for you to gather what you wish to have with you. Staying there for longer than that is not advisable."

Going there period probably wasn't the smartest thing in the world, either, but if she kept with her usual activities, it would keep anyone that was following her from knowing that she knew. Letting on that she did know might force their hand, which could be both good or bad, depending on how that hand was forced.

[Wysperz]

She thinks over his words, pushing some of her food around on the plate before taking another small bite and chewing it slowly.

"Where are we going to go once we leave there? By the way you speak, I think it's safe to assume that I'm not going to be returning to the penthouse any time soon."

Scenes such as this had been acted out uncountable times in film. She's done a good number of them herself. However, acting out a part and saying lines that are scripted for you by talented (or not so talented) writers is a far cry from actually living the real thing. In film, the actor/actress knows ahead of time what is going to happen to the character, how they'll react to situations and somehow the character almost always knows exactly what to do in a life or death situation.

Never in a million years did she ever dream that she'd be living out a scene she has acted out. She doesn't know what to do or how to react or where they'll go or what is going to happen to her - or to him. She's not too sure what is worse at this point - the fear of the situation or the not-knowing.

[Cyrel Annat]

"I do not know, nor do I know if we will be going anywhere at all. Right now, we play this by ear. If we move too quickly, it may place more urgency on whoever is behind all of this. Once we have the datapads, we can decide what to do. Is there anywhere else that you could go that no one else would know about?"

And while she may have acted out this role, this was totally new for him. In most situations, he knew exactly what to do, where to go, etc. This time, he did not. Running would just prolong whatever was to happen, and not necessarily the best option, unless it could be used to their advantage. Certainly, it was a way to draw out whoever was after her, but he was only one man.

"But first off, I believe we should finish our meal and try to enjoy it. There may not be many chances such as this in the near future if things turn for the worst. And that is a big if, I can assure you of that. It is just best to be prepared."

[Wysperz]

"Agreed." As she continues to enjoy the meal, wine and yes, the company; she thinks of a few places she can go to where she's fairly positive she'd be safe.

"Mhm. Actually, I have a vacation home far from Coruscant that the press hasn't ever found out about. In fact, it's not tied to my stagename so it's not likely that anyone would find out about it. At least, not right away."

Finished with her food, the waiter hustles over and whisks away the dishes just after refilling Wysperz wine glass with a fresh round.

[Cyrel Annat]

"That may be where we need to go. At least it is an option."

There was a brief pause after his reply as he continued with his meal, still glancing around occasionally. The pause also coincided with the waiter who, to this point, was not beyond suspicion. Cyrel had never been here before to know if the man was a regular or not. Certainly, the man's behavior could simply be because of Wysperz presence, though it could also be nerves associated with a job that just got a bit more difficult with the Jedi being involved.

Beyond that, though, the rogue had not noted anything else that could be construed as suspicious. All the better.

"So, we retrieve the datapads and a few of your personal items. Do you care to try the theater and see if your admirer is there or do we avoid that entirely? Is this normally a night that you would go there? It may be best not to stray from your routine until we are ready to leave."

[Wysperz]

Though she only ate about half of what was on her plate, she sits back and makes herself more comfortable, allowing the food to settle in her stomach.

"Well, I do have tickets for the play this evening. They were sent to me - anonymously. It's a good play and I had considered going, but it's not often I receive anonymous tickets. Do you think we should go? "

[Cyrel Annat]

"Anonymously? Anyone that you know of that would send you these tickets? If not, they may be from whoever is following you, and it could very well be a trap. If we do go, we must be very cautious. Where is the seating for the tickets, if such is provided on them?"

He didn't know if they were preset or if it was a first-arrive, first-seat sort of deal. He figured on the former, which was why he posed the question. The location of those seats given to her could be a sign as to what they may expect. Would she be isolated in a balcony seat with only one exit, where she could easily be trapped? This weighed quite heavily on his thoughts, further adding to the prospect of leaving the city.

[Wysperz]

"You know, I never did check that. I have them in my purse. Just a moment."

A light lean to the right and she reaches down, lifting her small clutch purse from where she settled it on the floor beneath the table and up against her ankle. After rummaging around inside of it for a minute, she pulls out the two tickets and looks each over.

"Upper balcony. Section B." The tickets are passed across the table to Cyrel. "That puts the seating facing and slightly to the right of center stage."

The waiter returns, taking any dishes that remain and haven't been touched. Wysperz glances to the young teen, nodding her head slightly, indicating that she wants the check - and quickly.

"No, there isn't anyone I can think of off the top of my head who would send those. And even if I could think of someone, they wouldn't send them anonymously. What do you think?"

[Cyrel Annat]

"Does the balcony have multiple exits or are the sections private with only one?" Since he knew nothing about the place, he did have to ask.

A brief pause as he waits for the answer, right hand raising to rub his chin a moment in thought. One last sip is taken from his glass before the waiter takes away his dishes as well, though after a bit of concentration, Cyrel could tell that the waiter was just flustered at serving the beautiful former actress.

"I think that it is risky. It may give us a chance to figure out who, if anyone, is after you, but it may also be a trap. There is no telling who or what may be waiting for you to arrive there."

[Wysperz]

"One. Each balcony is private. So private that each has its own set of stairs and a short, narrow hall to reach it. And yes ... they are reserved for celebrities and the rich because believe you me, they are not cheap seats."

She puts the tickets back into her purse and snaps it closed, laying it across her lap. The waiter delivers the check and two after-dinner mints, muttering something about it being a pleasure to serve them. This only makes Wysperz roll her eyes and shake her head.

"Well, Cyrel. I'm going to leave the decision up to you. I don't feel comfortable going there tonight, but if you think otherwise, then ... " She shrugs her shoulders while pulling credit chits from her purse to pay for their meal and leave a very decent tip for the babbling waiter.

"Let's go get those disks before the bank closes and then the penthouse. I suppose we can figure more out there. Who knows? Maybe you'll find something on those disks that I haven't and this will be over before it can truly begin."

She smiles to the Jedi, walking out of the restaurant with him.

[Cyrel Annat]

"Perhaps, though I have a feeling that it will not be quite that easy. But I agree, let us take care of what we need to while we have the time. Once we have everything, we can decide whether or not to go to the theater."

Which most likely would be not, as the sense of forboding surrounding that whole situation still hung in the air. He slowly slides out of the booth, letting his dark brown gaze sweep over the floor below, as well as a couple neighboring tables and booths. Satisfied that everything was still in order, he waits for Wysperz to join him before leading the way back out of the Outlander.

[Wysperz]

Wysperz shared enjoyable casual conversation with Cyrel as they went to the bank. They even shared a few laughs, which helped to ease the two into a comfort zone with each other. She asked him to accompany her into the bank, which he obliged.

"Right this way.", the bank teller rises from her seat behind a desk, leading the two to the safety deposit vault. The teller glances over her shoulder, eyeing Cyrel.

"He'll have to wait in the lobby.", she states in a curt tone of voice.

"No, he will not." Wysperz responds without allowing a moments pause. The teller hesitates in her steps, giving the young starlet a long sideglance. Wysperz simply lifts her chin a bit higher, returning a cold stare back to the woman; as if daring her to protest it further.

The teller bites her tongue and continues walking. The thick steel doors barricading the public from entering the vault open with a hydraulic hiss when the teller presses a palm against the identifyer

The three enter the vault and walk to Wysperz safety deposit box. She places her palm into the reader on the left while the teller places her in the reader located to the right. Once their ID's have been recorded, the box slides out and the teller gives the two privacy.

The steel box is opened. Inside are several important documents sealed in envelopes, jewelry and a few other miscellaneous items. The envelopes are lifted and the two disks are removed. She hands them both over to Cyrel for safe keeping since her clutch purse is too small to hold them.

Everything's put back where it belongs and she returns her box to its hole in the wall. She and Cyrel leave the vault and a security guard seals the doors once more.

"Alright. Let's head back to the penthouse. I'll pack a few things and you can use my datapad to look over the information stored on those disks."

The ride back to her place took a little longer than it normally does, due to afternoon traffic and Cyrel taking a different route. Just in case they were being followed, as he kept a close eye on the traffic surrounding them, looking for anything that might appear to be unusual.

[Cyrel Annat]

To say the least, he was impressed with her handling of the teller at the bank. Perhaps there were some advantages to being well-known. Thus far, he'd seen her get basically drooled over by the waiter and then managed to coerce the teller into how she wanted things to go. Not bad for the first day.

The ride back to the penthouse was uneventful and Cyrel was relishing nearly every minute of that sense of peace. He doubted that it would last long. After confirming with Wysperz, he eased the speeder around to the rear entrance, rather than the front door. Just in case it was being watched. Feeling out a bit as they entered the building, he still did not sense anything out of the ordinary. Either there was nothing, or one more powerful than himself was able to mask it. Not at all unlikely.

He escorted her back up to the penthouse, checking the room first before allowing her to enter, and then she began to gather up her things. While that was being done, the rogue Jedi started browsing through the datadisks.

[Wysperz]

A private lift carries to two skywards, deposting them at the entrance of her penthouse. A security code is entered and both doors open, unfolding inwards. Cyrel enters first, running a check of each room before allowing her to enter. Probably not truly necessary, but it is better to be safe than dead.

At first, the penthouse doesn't appear to be much more than an oversized apartment. But when one steps down a small flight totalling five stairs to the livingroom, the place reveals its true lavish self. Soft lighting remains hidden in the ceiling, giving the room a gentle glow. Stone flooring and pale silver-grey walls are set off by black furniture, edged in silver.

Two tall vases, considered to be rare pieces of art from a time when civilization was ancient adorn each side of the sliding doors leading out the balcony, holding tall whispy fronds and dried stems. The curtain draping the sliding doors remind guests of old, hand woven tapestries once used to help keep old homesteads warm in the winter months and cool in the summer months.

The entire penthouse gives one the feeling of stepping through a portal to go back in time. A time that has long since been forgotten and is now only written about in fantasy novels. About the only thing that reminds her guests that they are living in the present are the modern day conveniences throughout the place.

A stone fireplace sits in another corner of the livingroom, the mantel lined with antiquities she picked up for what she considers to be bargain prices at an auction.

"Have you found anything yet?", she calls out from the bedroom between mumbled words spoken to herself as she thinks outloud of what items to pack.

One week's worth of clothing is thrown into a suitcase, along with personal items and grooming necessities. With her hands set firmly against her hips and the corner of her mouth quirked, she looks around and thinks if anything else will be needed.

Her bedroom has definitely been decorated by a woman's hand. An oversized four-poster bed, decorated with romantic nights in mind. Satin comforter in deep, dark red highlighted by a satin antique white undersheet. Pillows galore, some lined in thin gold braiding and others trimmed in a thin lace. In one corner, sits a fireplace; a smaller replica of the one residing in the livingroom. Lingering in the air is the scent of jasmine, released over time by the fragrant fresh blooms in the vase on the nightstand.

Remembering a few more items, Wysperz collects them and tosses them into the suitcase. The sound of a zipper closing is heard and she grunts while lifting it from the bed.

"Good thing I don't need the kitchen sink.", she mutters while dragging her suitcase across the stone floor and into the livingroom.

[Cyrel Annat]

"Talk about your fixer-uppers," he comments dryly as he takes a look around, though there was a mischievous grin on his face as he said it. By far, it was the most extravagant home he had encountered. It remained on his thoughts for a moment or two longer before he inserted the first disk into the datapad and began to skim over the contents. While he was not officially aligned with the Alliance, he did know enough from his contacts with them to note that there were a few underlying hints within the contents. Though for anyone else, it would appear as just what it was.

"No, nothing of particular note. There are a few hidden messages in here, but nothing worth killing over. At least nothing I've found yet."

And while she continues to pack her things, his eyes remain glued upon the datapad in front of him. It would likely take a good deal more time to truly uncover anything of real import, since he still had found little that seemed worthy of hunting people down. Then again, he had found little throughout his life worthy of that act.

The rogue's dark brown eyes narrow slightly and slow down as well at another entry on the disk. At about the same time, an odd sensation fills his mind. Odd for the common person, he was used to it.

"Are you nearly finished? I believe that we should be leaving soon, and I also believe that we should forego the theater tonight."

He quickly ejects the disk from the datapad, placing both disks into his robes as he stands and walks towards the bedroom where she was. There was an underlying urgency to his step this time.

[Wysperz]

"Here.", she states flatly while hoisting the heavy suitcase from the stone floor, thrusting it into his arms. "Hold this." She flashes him a smile, a rather charming and endearing one at that, then scuttles past him and across the room to the desk. A couple of drawers are opened and a think black book is pulled out, then tucked into the back pocket of her jeans.

Another quick pause as she slides the sleeves of her long-sleeved cotton shirt up to just below the elbows, looking around.

"Oh. One more thing." This isn't directed at Cyrel really, just another thought spoken aloud. Across the room again, this time towards the fireplace. She vanishes into the small office just around the corner. When she returns, she's pulling the drawstrings taut to a small velvet pouch. Her purse is grabbed off the endtable by the couch and she tosses the pouch into it.

"All right. I'm ready. Lead the way."

[Cyrel Annat]

"Are you sure that you do not wish to bring your bed along as well?" Another dry comment from the rogue as he secures a hold on the suitcase. Moving with that same bit of urgency towards the door, he pauses just a moment before reaching his free hand out and opening it.

The hallway was clear for the time being, but something was telling him that it may not be so for much longer. The quicker to the lift and away they got, the better. He waits just long enough for her to lock the doors again before starting down the hallway to the aforementioned lift, and their way out.

[Wysperz]

"Wait! Do you think the bed will fit in that tiny speeder of yours?" The serious expression on her face fades into a slight smile that grows a bit more as she scoots out the door and locks it, a sense of possibly not seeing what she has made her home again.

She's not a force user, nor is sensitive by any means to it. She does have an intuition which hasn't failed her yet. Cyrel's sudden urgency to get out of there is picked up by her, perhaps subconsciously, and she quickens her pace to keep up with his.

"Cyrel? You're scaring me a bit with this sudden need to get out of here. What is it?"

The private lift whisks the two down to the first floor of the building. She begins to head to the front doors, but Cyrel diverts, heading towards the rear exit. A quick spin on the ball of her foot and a light jog catches her up to him once again.

[Cyrel Annat]

"You need not worry. I just prefer to be away from here as quickly as possible. Once we are in the speeder, we can get to my starfighter and leave. I do not think it is wise to go to the theater at all."

A quick scan around the outside of the complex as he steps out the door, thankfully finding no one waiting. He wasn't quite certain how much longer that would hold true, and he had a feeling that if they had gone out the front door, it would be a different story entirely. The suitcase is placed in the backseat of the speeder, climbing in the front a moment later.

He waits for her to follow suit, eyes and senses scanning all around the complex. "You just might want to strap yourself in this time."

[Wysperz]

"I understand. It's just a little nerve-racking when the tiny hairs at the back of your neck stand on end and you have this sudden feeling that you have to hurry and get out. Especially when it's your own home."

Settled into the front seat of his speeder, she straps herself in. No reason not to, really. That feeling that eyes are on them returns and she takes a slow look around through the window.

"I take it we're heading to another ship and we'll go to my vacation home now?"

[Cyrel Annat]

"Yes, I do believe that it would be best for us to leave this city as quickly as possible."

And once both are settled and strapped in, the speeder darts away from the building. Like her, he also felt as if they were being watched, or followed, but he did not see anyone just yet. They were there, though.

And after a couple of blocks away from the building, one of them made themselves known as a blaster shot grazed off the back of the speeder. Not a powerful blast, and not even enough to do little more than alert the two passengers that they were there.

"Hang on," he says about two seconds before the nose of the speeder drops and they begin a quick descent, weaving in and out of traffic. With one hand on the steering column, the other reaches over to activate his comlink. Nothing needed to be said, as it was an automated alert sent to the droid currently sitting in Cyrel's starfighter.

Now, to lose whoever it was that was following them and get to that ship.

[Wysperz]

Wysperz screamed when the blaster bolt caught her attention and she sunk down in the seat as low as the safety belt would allow her to. Her scream wasn't much considering the fact that she cannot speak above the tone of a whisper to begin with.

As the nose of the speeder dives, Wysperz hangs on to whatever armrest is available, white-knuckle all the way. Those silvery-blue eyes of hers grow wide and then she snaps them shut, more than convinced that Cyrel's going to crash right into another vehicle or building.

The weaving in and out of traffic and around buildings makes her stomach upset and with her eyes squeezed shut, it makes her rather dizzy. Cyrel might even hear her praying for all she is worth to whatever God it is she believes in - or believes in when the moment suits her to beg for divine intervention.

[Cyrel Annat]

He did indeed hear her praying and in a way, it amused him, though just a touch since he was busy concentrating on the continued success of not crashing their speeder. A few levels down and the speeder is righted again, in another long string of traffic though the weaving and passing continues. Another blast scores the back of the speeder again, causing Cyrel to actually glance back briefly.

A hard right puts the speeder directly in front of another speeding vehicle, though the rogue Jedi manages to get past without collision. Close, but still managing safely.

"What do you say to a bit of a short cut?" he asks Wysperz, a small grin on his face as it would appear he's heading straight at another building. A larger parking garage from the looks of it and most likely just a big enough opening for the speeder to slip through. Very little room for error. "You might want to duck, just to be safe."

[Wysperz]

If the coloring in her face hasn't turned green just yet - give it a few more moments. Practically hyperventilating from breathing and praying so quickly, she snaps her head to the left (eyes still squeezed shut) and braces herself for impact - several impacts, to be precise.

Her stomach does loop-de-loops as he weaves in and out of traffic. Her prayers turn into curses, blasphemous words against the God who snubs her. That's ok, she doesn't truly believe that there's a higher power whose hand will swoop down and save them. The thought sure is nice, though.

"What do you say to a bit of a short cut?"

This makes her eyes open quickly, wide with fright. The grin on his face does nothing to settle her nerves, though she does dare a glance out the front window. Just in time to see them heading straight for a building.

Her reply is quite simple. She manages to pry her white-knuckle grip from the armrests to slap her hands over her eyes as she slides down in the seat and draws her knees up towards her chest; cringing.

[Cyrel Annat]

He chanced one more glance behind them just to make sure that the speeder that had been following them was gaining. Not exactly the first thought in one's mind when being chased by someone that was intent on killing you, but his plan wouldn't work otherwise. Whoever was following had to be close in order for them to escape.

Content that they were, Cyrel speeds up the craft a bit more as they quickly close in on the parking ramp. Now, so long as no one else happened to be on this level at just this time, they would be alright. Provided that he managed to pass through the gap. Coming in just a touch high, the speeder drops at precisely the last minute, missing the permacrete walls by mere inches on either side, and continuing to pass in between the other parked speeders.

A loud explosion sounds behind them as the trailing speeder skims the tail of the craft on the top of the permacrete wall, having come in at the wrong angle. At the speeds they were traveling, the slight contact is still enough to cause the speeder to tip backwards and strike the ground again, careening into a few more speeders which all explode on the impact.

Too late for their own speeder to slow and make any manner of turn, Cyrel guides the speeder out the opposite side through a similar gap in the walls. Not bothering to look behind them again, he turns to the right and continues towards his awaiting starfighter.

Seeing the cringing and clearly terrified woman beside him, he refrains from chuckling though it was amusing. At least she would know that she could trust his piloting skills. "You can open your eyes now."

[Wysperz]

"You can open your... Her stomach quits, causing Wysperz to remove her hands from her eyes as she sits up quickly, bending forwards to vomit all over the floorboard. "...eyes now."

When she's finished losing the delightful meal they shared not that long ago, she turns narrowed silvery-blue eyes to the Jedi Knight piloting the speeder as if he is Sebulba in a pod race.

"Who in their right mind gave you a license?", she asks calmly. Amazing that her whispered voice can remain calm when the rest of her is shaking like a leaf caught in hurricane winds.

She dares to glance out the back window, just in time to see the destruction in the parking garage Cyrel just whizzed them through. She draws a deep breath and releases it slowly, turning to look to Cyrel again.

"Cyrel? I really don't want to die. I hope that we'll be able to figure out what is going on and why. I wonder what is on those disks that people are willing to kill for."

Now that Cyrel isn't flying like a madman, she settles into the seat again and curls her legs up indian style.

"Sorry about the mess on the floor. I couldn't help it."

[Cyrel Annat]

"A licence?" he replies dryly with an accompanied wink. Ok, so maybe she wouldn't trust his ability to pilot at all, thinking it just blind luck and recklessness. Just the same, it would still be successful.

As far as her little mess on the floor, it nearly causes him to chuckle again. First time for everything, one might say. The feeling of urgency that had filled his mind was now gone, allowing him to slow the speeder just a bit so that she might not be so nervous.

"You're not going to die, and we can clean *that* up later," he answers, motioning towards the second coming of her dinner. "After we have sorted everything out, mind you."

A few more blocks and the speeder begins to rise a bit, the light reflecting off of another metallic vehicle resting atop a building. The ship looked a bit older than many others, both in style and in actual existence, but it served him well. The modified Jedi starfighter that he owned was fast enough that he could outrun a lot of other ships, when he couldn't outmaneuver them. He hoped it didn't come to that since he didn't want a mess in his other ship.

[Wysperz]

Wysperz smirks to his dry reply about the license. She closes her eyes for a few minutes and then opens them. She nods to him while tucking her hair behind her ears and casting a glance at the object situated atop of the building.

"Is that your ship?", she asks, pointing an index finger up towards the top of the building.

The closer they get to it, the more detail she notices. Sure, it doesn't look like the newer top of the line models, but it still looks to be formidable.

"Oh. My vacation home is in the Tapani Sector of the Colonies region on Bethal. It's very private and secluded. We should be safe there. "

[Cyrel Annat]

"That would be the Black Thorn, and yes, that is my ship. Not the newest ship in the galaxy but trust me when I say it will serve us well."

Cyrel's droid already had the engines warmed and the ship prepared for take-off, and once all of Wysperz's possessions were safely stowed, the two would be off. Well, three if you counted the droid.

As for the ship itself, it had seen better days, many years ago. A modified Jedi starfighter with extended cockpit to comfortably seat two passengers and it's own independent hyperdrive. Both of them had been added for a specific purpose, and that purpose was being fulfilled once again. Not the first time the ship had been used for such ends, and most likely not the last time, either.

He began to bring up the coordinates of both the Tapani Sector and Bethal, to enable him to make the calculations for the lightspeed jump once they were out of the atmosphere. Satisfied that he had the information that he needed, his dark brown eyes look over to her again as he holds out one hand.

"If there is nothing else, let me help you in and we can leave."

[Wysperz]

She slips her hand into his and enters his ship. She's never been in a ship like Cyrel's before. She's use the luxury liners, the cruise ships and the top-of-the-line chauffered vehicles provided by Ch'been. It's much smaller than what she is use to traveling in.

Sounds strange, but it's cozy. She likes it.

"I've trusted you this far. I'll take your word that your ship will do just fine."

Settled into her seat, she straps herself in. She's a bit excited really. It's been a few years since she's taken a break and headed off to Bethal.

"Before we leave, is there anything we may have forgotten?" Always worrying about forgetting something. Did she turn the tapcafe off? Did she lock the doors to the penthouse? Did she forget to turn the water off in the tub? Call it obsessive/compulsive behavior, but most of the population suffers from it atleast once in their lives.

Her silvery-blue eyes dart to and fro, glancing at everything on the console and all the neat little buttons and gadgets. No, she's not going to start pushing them all. She learned her lesson long ago on what happens when you push the wrong things at the wrong times. It wasn't pretty.

[Cyrel Annat]

A few bleeps come from the droid situation next to the cockpit, causing the rogue Jedi to shake his head and chuckle. "A-4 wants to know if you left the iron on."

Still chuckling a bit, Cyrel finishes off the last few procedures to ensure they are ready for take-off.

As for the interior of the ship, cozy was a nice way of putting it. It was, after all, a bit cramped. Not originally meant for two passengers, it had taken some work to make the extra room and while they were not packed in like sardines, there was not a great deal of legroom.

"I would not put much stock into that question, either. I think that whoever originally programmed the unit put that in there for an attempt at humor. I do not believe that we've forgotten anything, and if we have, we can pick something up later. My thoughts are that we should be on our way before anyone else realizes we are leaving."

[Wysperz]

"A-4 wants to know if you left the iron on."

Wysperz looks from Cyrel to the droid and back, blinking. Eyes of silvery-blue shift to the right and upwards as she serious thinks. Did I leave the iron on?' She looks back to Cyrel, trying hide her smile and shakes her head.

"I don't own an iron." She chuckles and makes herself comfortable.

"Alright, let's get going then. "

A little nervous, especially after the way he handled the speeder ride on the way here, her fingers curl gently around the ends of the armrest.

"I hope you don't fly in the same way that you drove the speeder. I don't think my stomach could handle another adventure like that."

Her fingers curl and uncurl, massaging the armrest a bit. Noticing that she is doing that, she makes a conscious effort to stop.

"I had a droid once. Ch'been thought it'd be cool for me to have this thing tagging along after me everywhere. I hated the thing. Er, no offense to your droid. At least yours has a sense of humor. Mine didn't."

[Cyrel Annat]

"Well, sometimes his humor tries reaching for levels it can never attain. As far as flying this as opposed to the speeder, so long as we don't get followed, shot at, stuck in the middle of asteroids, or any number of other problems, this flight should be perfectly smooth."

With both of them settled, Cyrel presses the button to close the canopy over them. A small headset is placed around his head, to enable him to communicate with the droid as they travel through space.

The starfighter slowly lifts off the ground and begins its ascent upwards until the rear engines propel it forward. It would only be a matter of time before he would know if they're being followed, and once they made the jump to lightspeed, another ship would be fairly hard-pressed to catch up. For now, no sign of a trailer as the fighter continues to rise above the cityscape.

[Wysperz]

"Oh. Well. Ok, then. However, if memory serves me right, Cyrel ... space is full of asteroids. And if news reports are true, it's full of other ships. These other ships seem to shoot at anything that comes near them. Smooth flight."

Yes, she's a bit scared to be sitting in this small personal craft. She's use to the huge ships. The ones that can survive a hit by smaller asteroids and put up deflector shields in the event space pirates attempt to render the ship derelect.

However, the magnificent view of the city from above as the Black Thorn ascends towards the clouds takes her breath away. Leaning forwards, she turns as much as the restraints will allow and admires the view; at least until they pass through the clouds and continue towards the darkness of space.

She smiles, her reflection noted in the transparisteel window, a hint of sadness to it. Wysperz closes her eyes for a moment then turns back around and settles in once again.

"How long do you think it will take to get to Bethal?"

[Cyrel Annat]

"Shouldn't take more than a few hours with the speed we'll be traveling at. If you think of anything that you need, we can stop in Corellia and pick it up. We'll be taking the Trade Spine which will pass right through Corellia."

Once out of the atmosphere, one really got the full view of the city-planet, a view that left one in awe at times. Cyrel punches in the coordinates into the navcom, inputting the final calculations for the jump to lightspeed.

"Now comes the fun part," he comments over his shoulder as the ship slows briefly as it prepares to jump. He, too, glances back to Coruscant and a moment later, they're gone.

[Wysperz]

They travelled for a few hours at lightspeed. She didn't need anything along the way, so Cyrel bypassed stopping at Corellia. It wasn't more than another few hours before they finally arrived at Bethal. Getting clearance from port authorities was a breeze and the two didn't have any trouble at all getting to her vacation home.

Bethal, located in Tapani Sector of the Colonies region, is the primary planet in the Bethal System. An infestation of greddleback termites caused the economy of the planet - which is based on apocia hardwood timber - to go under. Imperial Moff Tendd declared the planet a disaster world, and helped bring Imperial funds to the planet in an effort to restore the apocia.

The economy is no longer suffering and neither is the ecosystem. Much of the planet is covered in lush, dense forests. Signs of the destruction caused by the termites is still visible in a few regions.

Wysperz directs Cyrel to the mountainous area where she had her vacation home constructed and points out the landing pad. Once the ship is down and proper shut-down has taken place, he helps her out.

"It's small and cozy, but that's the way I like it.", she states about her getaway residence. A simple log cabin.

She leads Cyrel up the front walk composed of cedar chips and stone pads to step on, lined by lighting that will slowly begin to glow as the sun sets. The inside is quite simple, yet very elegant at the same time. Hardwood floors, a huge floor to ceiling fireplace in the livingroom, balcony above where the two bedrooms are. One thing she went all out on is the gourmet kitchen. She loves to cook and bake (when she has the time).

"There's a guest bedroom up the stairs. It's across the hall from mine. Feel free to make yourself comfortable."

She immediately sets to work on establishing a fire in the fireplace. The temperatures in the mountains still get chilly at night; at least, chillier than the urban regions.

[Cyrel Annat]

"Most appreciated," he answers with a respectful bow. And he would make himself comfortable, once he took a look around both the interior and exterior. The place was a bit isolated out in the forest, but it was not invisible.

The rogue Jedi made his way back out to the ship, tinkering in the cockpit for a few moments. Once that was complete, he began the trip around the grounds, searching for anything that seemed out of the ordinary for such a place. Namely, anything that looked freshly moved, placed, etc. If she hadn't been here in sometime, it was doubtful that a great deal of traffic came through.

Once satisfied that everything was in order, Cyrel stepped back into the cabin. "I've activated the sensors on the ship with A-4 keeping an eye on them. If anyone tries to disturb us while we're here, we'll know about it before they get here."

[Wysperz]

After the fire is gently rolling over the logs, she rises and dusts off her hands. That's about the time that Cyrel returns.

"Sounds good.", she states while nodding to him.

"Well, it's a good thing we ate before coming here. We'll need to make a trip to the market tomorrow. How about if I at least get us something to drink and my datapad. Maybe we can view the disk together and see if we can figure anything out."

Before Cyrel can reply, she heads to the kitchen and rummages around to see what there might be to drink besides water.

"Would you get out the datapad? It's just sitting on top of my clothes in the suitcase."

She calls out, clinging two glasses together as she gets them down from the cabinet.

[Cyrel Annat]

"Would you get out the datapad? It's just sitting on top of my clothes in the suitcase."

He pauses a moment after that request, hoping that she did not pack her unmentionables at the top of the suitcase. He calls out a response and walks to her room, opening the suitcase and thankfully finding the datapad on top of a simple blouse. That was a mild relief.

A few moments later, and about the same time that she would have their drinks ready, he steps out into the living room with the datapad. He sits down cross-legged in front of the fire, setting the datapad down on the ground in front of him where he had enough light to see. He leaves it off for the moment, figuring to wait until she returns before taking a further look at the information.

[Wysperz]

Wysperz sets a glass of wine down on the fireplace hearth for Cyrel as she takes a seat on the floor.

"Sorry. It's all there is to drink until we can get to the market tomorrow."

She scoots over, drawing her legs up indian style and looks at the datapad while Cyrel brings up the information again.

"I'm not sure if you've ever heard of or seen any images of Ch'been, but he's a H'drachi. He was telling me about his native race one evening during rehersal. The H'drachi have the unique ability to be able to foretell certain future events by manipulating the timestreams around them.

"The more H'drachi that convene to consult the timestream, the easier it is to read. You don't suppose that it's possible Ch'been knew of an Imperial strike that was to take place? That he knew about it before hand and was aiding the Alliance?"

She takes a sip of the wine and ponders a few thoughts.

"I mean, the more I think about things he has said or people who have been wandering one of our sets at times ... I'm beginning to think that the accusations of his connection to the Alliance is true."

Still, that doesn't answer much, really. What could the Imperials have possibly wanted or gained by hitting the Alliance during the past two years? Why would he risk everything to send information through the big screen or over the holovid? Whatever his reasons, they'd have to be big.

[Cyrel Annat]

"It's possible, though I wonder what he could have found out about that would prompt him to such actions. And the wine is just fine."

Once she gets settled, he turns on the datapad, angling it so that they can both look at it. He had to wonder if they would even find anything. He was in-tune with many things, but he did worry that he might not be able to pick up on anything hidden that might be within the information. Only time would tell, he imagined. Only time would tell.

[Wysperz]

A myriad of images play across the screen of the datapad. Some of them are news reports, others are clips and even some funny bloopers from different stages of filming; both from the daily holodrama's and of the movies produced and directed by Ch'been. Some of them make Wysperz chuckle, others cause her to lower her gaze or look away completely; particularly the scenes showing the accident that took her friend/co-worker's life.

Now and then the images would appear to 'skip', as if watching a television and suddenly the screen begins to scroll because the horizontal settings get messed up somehow.

"I'm guessing that's interference. I'm sure the satellite signals get interrupted up here on the mountain with all the trees around.", she whispers, attributing the disturbances to location. It's logical, actually; but possibly unlikely.

[Cyrel Annat]

The rogue's eyes narrow a bit at the apparent interference, which it could very well have been though he had some doubts. Not that he knew how most encryptions worked, not at all, but this was just one way that certain messages could be concealed for those that were unsuspecting.

"Not necessarily," he answers, reaching forward to the datapad and fiddling with it a bit. The picture on the screen clears for a brief moment before scrolling again, which meant some manner of progress. A little bit more adjusting clears the image enough to be able to view it, though it is still a bit hazy. It's likely that the datadisks were meant for more advanced computers to access them.

"I think this is the best that we're going to get out of this disk. Hopefully, it will be enough."

[Wysperz]

"You might not have seen this footage before, but I have. I don't see anything out of the ordinary, Cyrel. Isn't there something else we can do? I don't know; maybe take it to someone who has better equipment or something?"

People are dying because of this disk. Of course, she's scared as there's already been one attempt on her life. Frustrated, she sighs heavily and finishes her wine off quickly.

[Cyrel Annat]

"I don't think that there is anything more that can be done. If there is, the best options would have been on Coruscant. Unless you know of another place around here that we could use, I'd say that this is it."

He leans back a bit, taking a more thoughtful sip from his glass of wine. Dark brown eyes look away from the datapad and over to her, dropping after a couple of moments. He leans forward to shut off the datapad for the night, figuring that they had seen more than enough of it. Perhaps in the morning they could have another look, when their minds were fresh again.

"That's enough for tonight, I think. We can look again tomorrow. It has been a long day, and I'm sure that you could use some rest."

[Wysperz]

Wysperz considers for a few moments, thinking if there might be somewhere in the city itself that might have better equipment. However, would it allow them to view encrypted messages?

"Well. What if we try the library before heading to the market in the morning? Maybe we'll get lucky."


She rises, stretching, then covers a yawn. "You're right, Cyrel. I don't wish to seem rude, but I do think I'm going to head up to bed. I bid you a goodnight and will see you in the morning."

Once she reaches the upper balcony, she peers over the railing. "Cyrel?" She offers a kind smile when he looks up to her. "Thank you for your help. And for your kindness." She looks to him for a minute longer then fades from sight as she melds with the darkness and disappears into her room.

[Cyrel Annat]

"You're welcome. Sleep well."

He watches the young woman until she disappears from view, pondering her last question about using the library. It was possible, though it might be a bit tricky to get some privacy. Perhaps it would be a time to use her fame to their advantage.

As she presumably settles herself for bed, Cyrel makes his rounds of the interior of the cabin, making sure that the doors are secured. Once satisfied of that, he steps out of the front door to check the grounds around the building itself. While his A-4 unit had its sensors monitoring a good portion of the grounds, Cyrel's own senses put himself a little more at ease. Plus, he was a bit restless and sitting within the confines of the cabin, while very relaxing, was not something he could do at the moment.

The mountain air was crisp this night, able to give a chill if one were not properly dressed. His robes were more than warm enough. The inspection of the cabin's grounds brought about nothing at all out of the ordinary, and so Cyrel returned to the cabin itself, locking the front door behind him. Another quick check of any and all entrances to the building, and he stepped back into the living room to sit down in front of the fire. With the peaceful calm over the building, it was as good a time as any to become one with his thoughts.

[Wysperz]

The comfort of knowing that there was someone with her whom would not allow anyone or anything to hurt her allows Wysperz to enjoy a deep, dreamless sleep; the best night's rest she has had in a long time.

Awakened by the sunlight streaming in between the slats in the blinds pulled across the balcony doors in her bedroom, she lays there for a while; listening to the sounds outside. Birds singing, woodland critters scrambling about along the dried underbrush, a few squirrels chittering away among the higher branches of the trees.

She tosses back the sheets and sits up, planting bare feet against the cool wooden floor. A glance at the clock reveals that is nearing noon. She stands, grabbing her robe and pulling it on as she pads across the room and out into the hall, taking a peek over the rail down into the livingroom below.

"Good morning.", she chirps down to Cyrel, giving him a fresh smile as she descends the stairs, tugging on the sash of her robe until it's taut.

"I didn't realize how late it is. Did you sleep well?"

She heads into the kitchen and gets herself some water, then rummages around to see if there's anything at all she can take a few quite bites from. Alas .. there's nothing. "Ugh, we really need to head to the market.", she complains quietly.

"Cyrel? I was thinking last night as I laid down.", she begins to explain while walking to the livingroom again. "Do you know what kind of computer would be needed in order for us to dig around in that disk? If you do and know where we could get one, I can just buy it. I have plenty of money."

Naive? Yes. However, even kids these days are hacking into top security systems using regular everyday equipment. At least, this is her line of thinking.

[Cyrel Annat]

"I am refreshed, which is the important part," he answers, lifting his gaze to her as she appears on the upper level, slowly descending to the main floor. "And you? How did you sleep last night?"

For him, he didn't really sleep. He did relax enough to meditate for a while, which for him was just as good, at least for a short period of time. He would likely get real sleep once this was over with, perhaps a bit beforehand.

He pauses a bit at her question, wondering the same himself. It was hard to say if anything that the general public could obtain would be able to get anything more out of the disk. It was possible that what he had installed on his ship could be enough, since it was a bit more advanced than the norm. And now that they weren't in any real hurry, they could take more time in looking.

"Well, for starters we can try the computer in my ship. It may be enough. Beyond that, civilians do not generally have access to the type of computer that we may need. I imagine that the Jedi Council would have suitable equipment, but they are on Coruscant. Government, perhaps. Or other larger organizations."

[Wysperz]

She nods. "Well, let's try your ship; after we go to town and get some food. I'm famished! I imagine that you're pretty hungry as well."

She bounds back up stairs and returns minutes later, dressed and ready to go. By her attire of a pair of simple jeans and a t-shirt, her hair thrown up into a clip haphazzardly, one might be hard pressed to view her as a famous celebrity. In fact, they might just realize that she is nothing more than a human being who has a high profile occupation.

"Is it out of the question to head to Coruscant if we have to? I mean, if it'll help put an end to this madness, it might be worth a shot."

[Cyrel Annat]

"It's not out of the question, no, though we were just there. We can leave that option until after we've checked the datapad on my ship, and after you've gotten something to eat. I won't lie and say that I'm thrilled with the idea of going back to Coruscant since we are here for your protection, but if we must, we will."

It would, however, defeat the purpose of leaving the city in order for her to lay low a while. The more trips that they took back and forth, the better chance of being tracked and followed. That was something he would just as soon avoid if possible.