| abstract
| - The Sandbar A large, comfortable room creates the main part of Plaxton City's infamous Sandbar, survivor of no less than three rounds of destruction, once more back on its feet. Refurbished to much the same state it had enjoyed prior to the invasion of Caspar at Imperial hands, the place boasts dark wood panelling on its walls, and myriad booths and tables of occasionally battered but sturdy lighter wood, and a number of both old and brand new holoposters hung here and there on the walls. Several deep blue glass windows allow light in from outside, while keeping the ambient light level fairly low. The marble bar that survived the recent war still remains, more battered than before, but once again serving as the domain of Ariani; the loft, too, has been restored, providing yet more seating and an excellent view of the low stage towards the back of the room, where the local band called the Womprats play each night. Orson Too short, not handsome, and a little too old. What's lacking in looks has to be made up for with something strong on the inside: determination and persistence, a certain grit evident in the look sent by his slate gray eyes. Lines around this human male's mouth and eyes tell of hard days and decisions in his past, each one a new crease in an otherwise young man's face. He is smaller framed, though quite stout with a barrel chest and strong shoulders. Still, he's not overly muscled, simply in good physical shape. Dark hair is kept in a simple style but is more often than not in a disheveled state. A few lonely gray hairs touch his temples. He might be around forty standard years old. He has a larger nose, on a round-shaped, bold face that is quick with a grin but usually caught up in a shade of thoughtful. About a week's worth of trimmed beard covers his face, peppered with dark gray; the facial hair lends Orson's face additional depth and distinction. He is dressed in a dark blue, almost black, robe, the thing draped evenly from his broad shoulders to below his waist. Pressed trousers of the same color run into knee-high leather boots, his shoes sporting wide stylish gold buckles. He is wearing a triangular hat, also blue and some half-meter wide in all directions; the point that extends in front of his face is decorated with a short yellow tassle. Jessalyn The composure of this young human woman is probably the most striking thing about her. Though otherwise unassuming, her expression is one of surprising coherence and calm, belied only by the slightly mischievous gleam in her leaf green eyes. Shining dark red hair falls in unruly silken waves down to the middle of her back, framing her wide cheekbones and smooth, pale skin not as fragile as most redheads'. She is relatively tall for a human woman, with long-boned limbs and a natural grace amplified by her skills. She is wearing a dark green, long-sleeved shirt beneath a velvet black tunic that is belted at her narrow waist. The full sleeves are cinched above her pale, slender wrists. A pair of tight, dark green pants are tucked into knee-high black leather boots, both complementing the best pair of legs in ten parsecs. Toryn Your eyes fall upon the form of a small horansi cub. He stands between three and four feet tall, excluding his trianguler feline ears, which add a couple inches or so. His small body is covered in soft, fuzzy kitten fur. For the most part its yellow, except for the small rosette spots speckled around him. From a few inches below his neck, down to a little below his wast is a patch of white fur. He has dark blue eyes, peering out curiously from his small fuzzy face. The little boy has on a thin blue jacket for clothes. The jacket was obviously made for an adult, so it looks like a trenchcoat on the cub, and hangs down to his little ankles. The sleeves are folded back extremely far, though they are still really baggy, and fall over his hands. He looks comical in his oversized jacket, but he apparently doesn't think so. The front of the jacket is opened, revealing his small chest, and the loincloth tied about his waist, which hangs almost down to his knees. His lack of shoes make his footsteps silent. Malus Before you is a human male standing 5' 3". His dark wavey hair hanging just below his shoulders, parting in the middle and hanging evenly on both sides.. His eyes are green and show no emotion of any sort, but glare deeply to what ever it is that may have his attention. He has a medium build, nothing realy all that spectacular though. He is currently wearing black mimilitary style pants hanging losely from his waist held up with a black belt with a dull silver buckle. His shirt is nothing more then a thin black shirtneatly tucked into his pants. His pants are neatly tucked into his boats, that seem that they havent been properly cleaned in who only knows how long. Over his shoulders losely hangs a black trench coat that stops inches below his knees. Wally a man of medium height, about 6'1", average build if somewhat large in the shoulders and rather barrel chested. Dark brown hair with a pepper of gray, and darker brown eyes. facial hair consisting of a well trimmed mustache and goatee. His only discerning features being his rather deeply set but keen eyes and unusual hands, which are strong, but soft to the touch. he is modestly dressed, but with clothes of exceptional quality. he wears about his neck a thin strand of some sort of tanned material supporting a small pouch fashioned of a soft looking animal skin, a reminder of his past and the key to his future. Wally waiting for the man to return from his private comm spots the horansi that he had caught a glimpse of last night in the starport... Ah and there the couple he met recently in plaxton square, he gives a polite nod to the couple and continues to wait for the man in the corner to return. Toryn blinks, and bites his lip, and whispers into his com, hopeing he's staying concealed in the booth. Though his blue coat isn't the best camoflauge. The kids eyes fall on Wally after when he finishes mumbling into his com. That guy was talking with Malus last night. Pausing at the entrance, Orson Tighe unfolds his arms. His wide blue-black robe swings quietly at his thigh. A large hat dominates his profile, a gaudy thing that precedes Orson's entrance by a good fifteen centimeters. "This is nice," Orson comments distractedly, scanning the room with a tired squint. Despite his clothing, he wears almost a week's worth of rough beard, which has just recently been trimmed into shape. It's a new look for the mechanic-businessman. Gray eyes flick over a few familiar faces, and then the man turns, waiting for his companion. Malus turns, his eyes making their way to the doors...and this Familiar face that he has yet found a name for. He shakes his head putting his com back in his pocket. Stagering his way back to his bar stool Malus calls to the tender for anther glass of whisky. "So Wally was it....enjoying Caspar I hope?" Wally ,glad at this gentlemans return."Yes I am,just learning my way around the city really, but getting comfortable" This place was turning out to be as inhospitable as he had been warned... every contact wally had made since his arrival was ridden with tension. The red-haired woman accompanying Orson closes the door behind them, her green eyes adopting a squint as they adjust to the relative dimness of the restaurant. Jessalyn gives Orson a tired smile as she glances around, noting a few familiar faces, Ariani in particular, at the bar. "Doesn't look like there's a band, anymore," she comments to him in a disappointed tone. "I'll have to ask someone about Shenner. Still hungry, though?" She touches his elbow and draws him over to a small table out of the way. Toryn runs a blue sleeve over his tearful eyes. Blinking a moment, he spots another familier face. Whats Orson doing here? Though he does look slightly different. The cub starts feeling a bit uncomfortable now, with that strange lady next to Orson. Just then, the kid looks over at Wally, and spots his enemy. Malus. Malus begains to again reach for his com as his half closed eyes take another glance about the are. They skip across the Horansi then quickly bounce back to him. Malus looks to Wally getting up from his stool, "I must ask you again exccuse me...I do apolagize...but I must talk to that li cub in that booth over their." Orson steps ahead of Jessalyn to their table, plotting a course through the room which seems to accidentally take them through a narrow canyon of chairs, with porcine people propped on either side. Lifting on tiptoes and patting a being on the shoulder, Orson scoots through, dragging his half-length robe over somebeing's back. Frowning and gauging the distance, he determines that Jessalyn should have no difficulty moving through with her slight frame. "Oops," the man says, flashing a grin. The first one today, Jessalyn would note. In a moment, they are at the table and Orson presents a chair for his companion. "Does someone just come over? Or do we need to tell them that we're here..." His voice trails off as he looks about. He tilts the point of his triangular hat toward Toryn, but isn't sure that the Horansi has seen him yet. Wally ,resigned finally to the fact that whenever he meets up with this man.... something is going to happen, spins around on his stool and leans back against the bar waiting for tonights show to unfold. surrendering to the obvious danger on his new home planet. Orson sends through the Force... "Griffons, I suppose. That's Toryn, the child." Toryn hugs his feet up to his chest on the table, and with his free hand he reaches into his coat, to toy with the small blaster Chip gave him. He'd hate to use it, but if things with this Malus guy get too extreme, he needs to be ready to escape. The boy spots Orson as he tips his hat, and he nods in response before looking back down at his com, awaiting a response. Malus stagers across the bar bumping into a being here and their on his way across the way. "Excuse me...sorry..." Malus takes a seat across the way from Toryn in the booth he is sitting at, his head tiltd to the side and a moment of thought runs through his mind as his eyes carefully looks the crowd over before he speaks. Jessalyn sinks into the chair offered by Orson and smiles gratefully up at him. "Thank you." Addressing his question, she cranes her neck to look around for a waitperson, folding slender white hands on the table in front of her. "Someone should come by," she deduces, though all at once she isn't sure. The place seems very busy tonight, and their entrance may have gone unnoticed. Toryn jumps as Malus sits down. How stupid could he get? He let the stranger approach his table -and- sit down. Swollowing, his paw grips the small blaster as he watches Malus. This guy's pretty good. As he sniffs, his nostrels catch a certain scent, thats very familier to him. You sent through the Force to Orson... Anyone we should be worried about? Reaching behind him and drawing his arm behind his thighs, Orson takes up his robe and sits on it, but lands on the edge of his seat. "Well," he starts, looking uncomfortable. It's not as if, in the past two days, they hadn't skirted the edge of a Sith mind trap and been successfully lured into a nasty fight by someone who, by all accounts, appeared to be a very skilled and very dangerous stalker. Tonight was for a bit of relaxation, and a bit of reassurance that, despite the dangers which faced them during the day, their evenings -- at least this evening -- could almost be normal. Orson's face swivels and lands on Jessalyn's. His eyes click from side to side, and the mechanic looks to be reading something written on the woman's face. "I don't believe so," he offers her from nowhere, reaching out and patting her hand. "I think I'll go find some waitstaff." With that, he rises and starts to the bar. Wally ;beginning to get a bit of a kick from tonights drama, thinks to himself "I hope my new friend doesn't fall of of his seat" but has a feeling about this man ... He is ALLWAYS ready.. stay on the right side of Malus. Also wally ponders,'These Horansi are awefully skiddish, I'd hate an assignment on Mutanda." Malus grins as the Horansi sniffs the air, he brings his finger to his lip"Shhhhh" Malus nods as he brings his glas to his lips. After taking another look about the bar he simply decides to go back to his seat and speak with the ambassador. Jessalyn's head tilts to the side as Orson looks at her, a fiercely thoughtful expression in her eyes. Somewhat reassured by the answer to her unspoken question, she sinks back in her seat, surprised at how tired she is, and watching Orson as he departs for the bar. "Get me a Corellian brandy," she calls after him, deciding to indulge in the urge she's had for months now. Carefully following a safer course through chairs and tables, Orson reaches a clearing for the bar. His tassel bobbing madly, the well-dressed man pauses at Toryn's booth. "Hi Toryn," he greets, sublime. "You're still here." Orson extends his arm, dark robe sweeping out under it. It levels directly for the small table he just left, and the not-so-plain looking woman resting there. "Head over there and meet my friend," he instructs, leaning over the table, flicking gray eyes to Malus with a critical look. Out of the corner of his mouth, to Toryn: "Join us, and I'll buy your meal." Wally loses all composure as his friend....? sits back down next to him. Wally, shaking his head from side to side and grinning from ear to ear, makes eye contact with Malus. "Sir, may I say that you just scared the PISS outta that cat!" Toryn watches after Malus a moment. He can't be Chip, he looks so different! As Orson moves into his view the kid glances up, "Oh, hey... Um..." He runs a sleeve over his eyes, "Of course I'm here, my ship kinda left without me..." He says with a grin. He peers back at Malus, before looking where Orson gestures, "Hmm? Umm..." Pondering a moment, he watches Jessalyn, "Uhh.... okay..." As he starts sliding out of the booth, he slips his com somewhere inside that goofy coat of his and starts approaching the table. Malus Looks oddly to Wally, his eyes wrinkle as rage feals his mind. "That isnt what what was intended my friend....and Im not to sure who you are but that is toatly uncalled for!" Malus turns looking back to the booth then to the crowd..his mind to full of thought and to confused from the drink. He begains to walk away shaking his head. Now the only thing his eyes look for is a quiet table to sit at...maybe clear his thoughts...or better yet finish getting rid of them. Sitting up a little straighter as she notices Orson pausing at Toryn's booth, Jessalyn concentrates, trying to pick up on the conversation. She seems to be expecting the cub's arrival as he approaches her table, and rises halfway from her seat to meet him. "Hello," the Jedi says in a friendly voice. "I'm Jessalyn. You're Orson's friend? Have a seat." She sweeps her hand toward the third chair at their table. Toryn watches the strange human a moment, "Umm... yeah I am... my name's Toryn..." He says as he climbs into a seat. He turns his head to glance at Malus and Orson, before looking back at Jassalyn. He rests his two paws on the edge of the table watching her. He's still a little confused, and not sure he should trust anyone at the moment. Orson smiles distantly as the cub heads for Jessalyn. Smoothing his robe, he eases up behind Malus, unintentionally really, and puts both hands on the bar. "Hello," he says to the employee behind the counter. "I've brought a few friends this evening. We'd like a menu." With an appreciative nod, their table is duly noted and a waiter seems to make preparations to head that direction. Orson turns away, but is caught by Wally's proximity. He's got to speak, being this close. "Valley," he says with a too-familiar tone. "How are you?" Coming alongside Malus, the broad-shouldered man dips his head graciously. Noting that the Horansi doesn't seem very comfortable, Jessalyn glances furtively toward the bar, wondering when Orson is going to arrive and put his friend here at ease, since she doesn't seem to be doing a very good job of it. "Well, it's nice to meet you, Toryn," she says kindly. "Are you hungry? I haven't eaten since this morning." Despite her friendly demeanor, her fingers drum a bit anxiously on the tabletop. Not allowing himself to be upset by this now typical meet with Malus, Wally settles in to his drink. A drink promised by malus but purchased by himself. Wally surrenders once again to the evening, curious about The couple at the far table,but not willing to add more tension to the evening by approaching the Horansi in front of Malus... Well Orson has seen to the fact that ther IS to be added tension." Ah yes" wally stands and extends a hand..."Orsob, and of course the Lady Jessalyn, I saw you enter but you appeared to be wrapt with the ladies attentions, so I thought best not to intrude. But I see that your party has grown." Toryn scratches behind an ear, "Eh, I dunno... not really..." He swollows and watches the human, "Um, I kinda gotta get goin'... hafta talk to a friend about somethin'..." The boy slides off the chair, and starts heading out, "Nice meetin' ya..." As he passes Orson he waves a paw, "Eh, I gotta get goin'... hafta talk with someone... see ya around!" He wanders out the bar, but not before giving Malus a smile. Malus simply looks to the two giving Orson a half nod with his head. He throws some creds on the bar then looks back to Wally..."Their....now mind your tounge...and let me alone..." Malus swipes his drink up from the bar and begains making is way to the booth Toryn was once at before sopme one else grabs it. Orson begins to speak, words slow in coming. However, this tempo is less the result of some hesitance than a simple show of grace, waiting for the opportune moment. "That is still the case, to be truthful," Orson begins, taking Wally's outstretched hand and tilting his cap in Jessalyn's direction. Wrapped up indeed. Despite his pains, Orson still misses his conversational window, and is cut off by Malus. "Er," the mechanic says, backing away a little and letting Malus leave. "I thought Ambassador Valley would join us as well, though... is there a problem?" Wally thinking, ahh the ebb and flow of the evening..."Gladly, it seems I have a few extra credits... perhaps I can offer you and the Lady a drink for your hospitality". still greatful none the less that the Horansi Has left the bar. "pay no mind to my new friend, he seems to be a bit full of the drink tonight." "See you later," Jessalyn calls after the departing Toryn, shrugging her shoulders and hooking her arm over the back of her chair. Her booted toe taps an impatient rhythm on the floor. She recognizes the man Orson is talking to at the bar from the other day, the ambassador for the Griffons, and chews on her lip as an employee finally arrives at her table with a handful of menus. "Sorry for the wait," the other woman says as Jessalyn waves her off, smiling. She picks up a menu, but doesn't really look at it, her attention instead riveted on those at the bar. "I try to avoid that sort of friend, myself," Orson admonishes, turning away from Wally and flashing some sort of signal to the bartender, simple point followed by the extension of one of his thick digits. In a moment, a thick tumbler of deep brown liquid is in Orson's hand. "I'll tell you what," the robed fellow says, on his way back to Jessalyn. "You get us next time. C'mon." Passing by Toryn, and seeming unsurprised that the cub has departed, Orson gives a little shrug to Jessalyn. "Look who I found." The presentation of the brandy seems more important than Wally at the moment, and Orson carefully places it in the woman's grip. He's back in his seat in a moment, and waves at the available chair. Wally takes a seat with Orson and his Lady' smiling broadly. "Ma'am pleased to make your aquaintence...Again. Enjoying your time here on Caspar?" Malus makes his way to an empty seat at the end of the bar. He sits his glass down taking a set shortly after looking about finding Orson again. Who does this face belong to....nopw isnt the time. Malus pulls a cigar from his pocket and fires it with a match. After taking the first draw he begains blowing smoke rings. A little bit of the usual luster returns to Jessalyn's eyes as she wraps her fingers carefully around the tumbler and smiles gratefully up at Orson. "Thank you," she says to him, before swiveling her gaze to Wally. "Hello again, Ambassador. I can't say that this visit to Caspar has been entirely pleasant, but... it's had its moments," she says with a little chuckle, taking a first appreciative sip of her drink. "Do the Griffons have an embassy here?" Orson pipes up, resting an elbow on the table. "I walked past the New Republic and Imperial places the other day." The mechanic presses his lips together and leans back in his seat, slouching slightly. As Jessalyn relaxes, he does. She's a good barometer of 'at easiness', and the mechanic has come to unconsciously rely on her for the cues of when to take it easy, and when to be alert. It's the result of a lot of time spent together recently, and the highly empathetic bond that is growing between them. Malus settles in his seat getting situated to watch the gathering at the table. At the same time his eyes glance to the doors ocasunaly.. HE takes a deep breath as he continues his drink. Wally "Entirely pleasant, no. I would have to share that sentiment with you Jessalyn, but interesting to be sure. As to The griffons having an embassy here, no we don't Orson. The duty of strengthening relations with Caspar rests on me in that respect." " I must say about this place though, the warnings I recieved to take care will not go unheeded." "How are relations between Caspar and the Griffons?" Jessalyn asks politely, using her free hand to push a menu toward each of the others at the table, and raising her brows expectantly as she sips from her glass. The brandy is doing its part in relaxing her tense muscles, and her smile is a little easier now as the fiery liquid burns down her throat. "I've been... out of the loop, for a while, you could say." A finger lifts from Orson's hand, as if to tag an additional question for Wally along with Jessalyn's. "You sound as if you've been put in danger. Problems?" The Ambassador seems a gentleman, surely, but somewhat tentative too. As soon as he has posed the question, Orson angles his face to take in Jessalyn's profile. A small smile warms his face, through the beard. Zerae enters the small bar, making her way in quickly through the doors the second they open. She silently makes her way to the bar, having not noticed anoyone she knows. Not being a person very big on being in places alone, she makes no move to initate conversation with anyone. The real party type. Wally ,weighing the questions of the couple sees no harm in small talk. "relations are good, if somewhat neglected jessalyn. and as to any real danger, not really. Just seems a bit Frontier like around here what with all the different species interacting and all. By warnings i speak of a chance meeting that I had my first day here, with someone whose opinnion I truly respect." Malus looses intrest rather quickly in the others as they talk. His eyes fall on the Doors as Zerae makes her way into the bar....'Now this is interesting ' He thinks to his self. He grabs his glass and begains making his way in her direction. Wrapping both hands around the base of the tumbler, Jessalyn nods along as she listens to Wally, seeming to be only politely interested in the topic of politics, as if that is what one is expected to talk about in a conversation with an amabassador. "Oh? And who was that?" she asks, smiling as the brandy puts a hint of color into her cheeks. Orson's lifted brow seems to ask the same question of Wally as his partner. He shifts his weight in anticipation of the return of the approaching server. The broad-shouldered man nods quietly and points at his chest, giving the waiter a conspiratorial nod. All on one ticket, he seems to be suggesting. "What's good?" Wally raises an eyebrow and shows a hint of visible excitement at the chance to share this little story. Feeling sure that none in these parts could be unaware of him he drops the name."Luke Skywalker" and tries to continue casually, but sure his excitement does not escape his hosts. "Normally I would not be to concerned of anothers opinion of my safety, but of course when the Great jedi Master shows concern, I believe it wise to listen..." Ever the attentive one, Zerae recieves her drink and takes a sip, not noticing Malus until she turns to walk towards a table. "Oh. Malus...Hi. Surprise seeing you here." Jessalyn is unable to keep from giving an almost violent start. Her hand which had been in mid-motion between lifting the glass from the table to her mouth pauses, and her green eyes widen in genuine surprise. "Really? You saw the Jedi Master here on Caspar?" She cuts Orson a sharp glance, softened by a subtle smile as she finally takes a sip from the glass. "What did he say to you?" Malus grinns oddly to Zerae. "Is it...Its been a while since we have been here...care to join me?" Malus nods to the end of the bar where he was once sitting. "Id apreciataite it alot." Orson's attention, up until the mention of Skywalker's name, has been focused on the waitress. "Odd," he murmurs simply, finding Wally's face suddenly more interesting. Jessalyn has this under control, he decides, stuffing some additional comment back down his throat. "The whitefish, small broiled," Orson finally orders, lifting his chin at the server. "Cut into the citrine medallions, please. Actually, three of those would be fine." Intrigued that this comment about Skywalker should expose the first chink in this couples apparently seemless armor, Wally lets the conversation flow. "Yes, thank you Orson" with a genuine smile. "It was a short meeting right here in the SandBar, He was quite pensive and our conversation was brief. But he did pass on the warning that Caspar could be a treacherous place." Holding on to one particular piece of the conversation out of respect for the Jedi. Malus gets a long look on his face as he begains to quietly speak "The CSA seams to be here looking for any one that has connections to the Ion Dove...a man stepped up in the hanger last night calling people out. One man stepped forth and was about to admit to something he had no business to speak of......" Malus pauses before continuing...he leans close and whispers in her ear, "I had to kill him..I had no choice." "That's fascinating," Jessalyn remarks, perhaps a bit bedazzled by the idea of such a well-known and respected personage right here in Plaxton City... or perhaps it's something else. "You read my mind," she says to Orson, referring to his selection, and winking at him. But then her demeanor, relaxed but alert, suddenly changes. Jessa's brows furrow and she glances over her shoulder at the couple speaking at the bar. Much too far away for any normal human being to have overheard a whisper. Blinking, she shifts back in her seat and takes a gulp from the brandy tumbler. A sudden sense of worry floats about Jessalyn. _Did you hear that?_ "Sure," Orson replies, half-heartedly clawing at the air in front of his face, as if to wave off the appreciative comment. With Jessalyn's additional comment about mind-reading, some red creeps onto the mechanic's cheeks and he looks back to Wally. "It sounds like he gave you good advice, at least, Ambassador." Orson flicks his gray eyes to Jessalyn, struggling now to engage both of the people at his table in conversation and offer them the appropriate level of attention. Orson sends through the Force... _Ye.. no. What's wrong?_ The man becomes more diffuse, senses extended. He's getting better, more intuitive with the exercise. Wally ,truly betraying his own excitement by his very posture. An unusual situation for this politician to find himself in. "I must admit to my excitement at meeting the man. All my Life i have sought knowledge of The Force, I have actually played at the edges of it, as I believe we all have. I have truly seen miricles in my life and am sure this elusive Force is at the center of it all. I hope to have more opportunities to speak with him in the future." "According to the Jedi, the Force is not elusive, but is everywhere around us," Jessalyn says in a mild enough tone, her voice soft and slightly slurred from the effects of her drink, and smiling appreciatively at Orson's blush. "Nonetheless, it's not for the unitiated, I suppose." She shrugs, casting a surreptitious but probing glance over her slender shoulder towards the bar. You sent through the Force to Orson... The man there... who was with the Horansi, before. I heard him whisper to the woman beside him... Orson throws his own cool glance to the couple at the bar, but removes his attention, at least with those obvious senses, and reorients himself to Wally, focusing on the man. "I'm not above counting on a miracle," Orson comments, tapping a fingernail on the table. "I suppose I'm growing to expect good fortune, what with all of it that's been thrown my way lately." He means one thing: Jessalyn. Despite the overwhelming stress of change that has stretched Orson's whole person in so many directions, he still calls his time with this woman good fortune. With a twinkle in his gray eyes, he flashes her a small shy smile. Orson sends through the Force... _What?_ Orson's own attention is centered on them now, roughly, hearing and feeling the overtones of their exchange. This time it's Jessalyn's turn to blush as her own senses pick up on the meaning behind Orson's words to Wally, and she stifles her embarrassment by taking another sip of the now half-empty tumbler of brandy. Eyes twinkling, she licks a dab of the liquid off her lips, knowing Orson is well aware that his sentiment is a mutual one, and returning his smile before focusing on Wally. "That's true," she says, a bit awkwardly, and closing her mouth before she adds anything further. Perhaps the brandy has made her say a little much already. Soon enough, the waitress returns and distributes three plates of hot whitefish. A decanter of water is set in the center of the table, and with a word to the trio, she departs. "I hope you like this, Ambassador," Orson interjects, taking up an eating utensil and waiting for the others before he spears a piece of meat. Malus stumbles to his seat and beagains making his way through the crowds towards the mens room....his face seam pale as if he's about to toss his cookies. You sent through the Force to Orson... Suppressing her worry, Jessalyn sighs inwardly. "Maybe I'm imagining things... but he told that woman that... murdered someone yesterday." Wally feeling at a loss for his poor timing. "Yes, but too much to drink" leans toward Orson,whispering "Could you point me to the restroom beforew i begin this feast" Orson has just popped a piece of meat in his mouth. Chewing thoughtfully, he nods, and angles the point of his huge hat in Malus' direction. "That way, I think." With a little shrug to Jessalyn, he keeps chewing. Jessalyn's eyes track the movement of the man towards the restrooms, since he seems oblivious to being observed, and the rest of the table seems interested in looking in that direction, anyhow. Then she picks up her fork and takes a bite, remaining quiet. Wally , thinking great Malus between me and the facilities, makes his way towards the restroom. dodging the crowed as he goes
|
![[RDF Data]](/fct/images/sw-rdf-blue.png)