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| - There's a buzz from the crowd in the vast staging area, the excitement almost palpable as they wait for the long-awaited parade to commence. Well, it isn't really long-awaited, since Smitherbodkins never plans anything very far in advance. Perhaps this is why he is always so frazzled right before one of his famed events. But now it seems that everything has come together; or at least, it may have. Only time would tell! The air is crisp and clear, a nice change from the gray, dismal weather that had been present of late on Corellia, as though the Harvest Gods were smiling down on this festive occasion. After a moment, a somewhat tall, elegently dressed gentleman can be seen walking toward a platform with a speaker system that has been set up specifically for this occasion. He's fairly beaming; he always gets so excited when his plans come to fruition. Reaching the microphone, he pauses dramatically for a moment, then says, "People of Corellia! Ladies and gentlemen, friends, honored guests. Welcome to the opening of the Galactic Swoop League races, celebrating the Corellian Harvest Festival. This beautiful planet is rich in history and culture, and its inhabitants, as wlel as other groups and orgainzations, have come together to create a spectacular masterpiece, expressly for your enjoyment. Let the parade commence!" He smiles, stepping down from the platform and sweeping his hand toward the direction which presumeably the floats will appear from. And, after a second, they begin. It had been ages since she'd set foot in this arena. Ah, the days before motherhood, before marriage...before being lifted into the lofty ranks of diplomacy, even. Standing in the archway, Ambrosia Delgard hesitates to enter so she may soak in the atmosphere. Her escort, a tallish man of military build, flanks her left side with an alerted expression. The ranks of NR military are worn upon his shoulder, displayed in a series of patches. Amongst the crowds of the natives, visitors, and the ever popular silent brooding and never moving there stands a redheaded woman watching the proceedings. Today, Lyra's safely in the crowd, more or less just another face in the crowd, safe by virtue of unimportance from the scrtunity of Stormtroopers and other agents of the Empire. She's looking at the swoop-bikes of enthusiasts put on impromptu display, the bikes nowhere near as fine as the real racing swoops, but a sight better than what she is used to. Only when Smitherbodkins climbs up to the stage and begins speaking does she look up from some silver bike painted with mauve flames to listen to the man speak and open the ceremonies. New Republic Colonel Ikihsa Enb'Zik breathes slow and deep. He hasn't been on Corellia since it was under New Republic control unless you count numerous battles outside the atmosphere. It's different now. He hasn't seen every bit of /how/ it's different, exactly, but it just seems that way. Silently, he damns the Imperials for their destructive touch. The thought of ten-thousand recently freed slaves helps quell his moment of personal ire, though. It almost draws a smile beneath his dewflaps. Finding himself a place where he can see above the heads of taller humanoids, Enb'Zik absently runs a hand over a namepatch on his racing armor. Cian Shev. Remember that - if they ask you who you are, your name is Cian Shev. He's not here for the swoop race. The Sullustan is here as part of an exercise. He takes another breath, slow and deep. And his black eyes leave the approaching floats and instead scan the crowd for obvious signs of Imperial presence. Kintor looks around his current location, unsure of where exactly said location is. His dog is right on his heels as he walks around, hoping to find the location of the parade. He had taken special efforts to find a backpack where he could hide his weapons from last night, quite sure that armaments in a setting such as this would be far from welcome. His eyes continue to search for clues that would tell him where he is when he notices a stream of people moving in a single direction. He looks down at the dog next to him, "Might as well follow them... Let's go." The dog almost seems to nod as it follows Kintor, who in turn begins following the crowd. As he enters a new area, he hears a booming, yet familiar, voice. A brow raises and he looks for the source. Ahh.. the man from the night before. "This must be the place, Buck. Let's move forward. I wanna see this thing." He moves forward, finding a clear spot to see next to a small Sullustan. The dog moves forward into a sitting position on Kintor's other side. The man glances at the Sullustan's racing patch, reading the name 'Cian Shev' to himself, then speaks up. "You're a racer, I take it?" Although by no means an unfamiliar place, Mirhoz looks more than a bit uncomfortable standing about anywhere on Corellia, much less right in the midst of so thoroughly local a tradition as the Harvest Festival. Even retiring for the best of reasons can be looked down upon in the present political climate, and as Mirhoz had skirted the realm of betrayal itself, any planet of the Empire is by default no place for him. Still, he'd promised his daughter a firsthand account of the parade, in case any details somehow escape notice in the chaotic presentation of the holovids. And, after all, it never hurts to get some time off from the more mundane aspects of his new job, so uncomfortable as he is, Mirhoz still realizes that it's a huge step up from filing paperwork. "Let's see what you can do, Corellia", he whispers under his breath, eager for some sort of distraction from his thoughts. The first entry in the parade is an Imperial float, an homage to the planet that is hosting this glorious event. It is made up of two smaller floats travelling together. The ase of each float is decorated in Imperial symbols. Each one is covered in imagery sure to make any Imperial proud. On the front one, is an X-wing being persued by a tight formation of TIES: four black ones and a red one, clearly meant to be the infamous Black Stars. Every two minutes a firework inside the X-wing goes off, to symbolize its demise. On the second float is a giant stormtroooper, at least twice lifesize, with his foot on a fallen figure. If one looks closer, the figure is clearly a Mon Calamari, and he bears a striking resemblance to the famous and beloved Admiral Ackbar. Following the Imperial floats is the All Legion Imperial Marching Band. Men from all walks of the military, navy and ground forces alike, march down the street playing such favorite songs as the Imperial March and the Battle Hymn of the Black Stars. Many Imperials in the crowd begin to sing along or march in place as the band plays these wonderful tunes while the faces of other citizens still loyal to the New Republic turn sour. A tall figure in a loose-fitting, flowing robe of dark brown moves slowly and with deliberation through the pressing throng of festival celebrants. The face of the being is shrouded by the hood pulled well over its head. Still, if one were to look closely enough, the tips of a Hornansi's long white whiskers would be visible for inspection. Major Snal'Fashtalli Teague-Ikihsa is curious to observe today's shindig, but her goal today is to do so without drawing attention to herself. A task that can prove difficult when one happens to be nine feet tall. Towering over every humanoid present and most of the non-Human races, Snarl is careful to keep toward the back of whatever group she glides in on silent paws to join. Today, if anyone asks, she is not herself. She must become someone else. Silently, in the shadow cast by her robe's hood, the Kasa Horansi grins toothily. Unfortunately, this private mirth is short-lived as the words of a hated anthem reaches her ears. Danik Kreldin tipped his fedora a bit to get a good look at Smitherbodkins as he came to the stage. Danik had decided to stay to the back of the crowd, on a slightly elevated platform so he could see the whole event, and, of course, the onlookers. Foldings his arms across his chest, Danik locked his sights on Smitherbodkins, quietly assessing the gentleman. He was suspicious of the man, after following that Jedi Ai'kani to his estate. But his suspicions would have to wait until after the parade. He wanted it to proceed without a problem, for good reasons. As the parade began, Danik took a few steps forward, his eyes catching a NR Military patch on the shoulder of one tall man. At first Danik was rather skeptical.. it must have been a joke or something, right? "I have a suspect here.. I'll handle it," Danik said into a comlink attached to his collar to a few guards posted throughout the arena. Stepping off the platform, Danik pushed his way through the crowd towards the rebel just as the sounds of the Imperial March begin. He stopped for a few moments to take in the song and view the floats, one a homage to his old unit. Grinning, Danik continued onward, even though he just realized he forgot his blaster. Lianja had tried to show up early in order to find a good seat... It worked, just barely, but the effort the being had to put out in order to secure its seat almost isn't worth it. Standing in that long line from the morning had its eyelids threatening to shut completely. Once or twice its head drops to its chest, and then jerks back up. Unfortunately Tantai misses the speech, and the first float. It is awake for the second and dutifully claps its gloved hands in appreciation. "Perhaps Gabi would have enjoyed this." The Ambassador murmurs to her escort whilst taking her time in navigating through the crowd to find a better viewing angle. "The colors, the sounds..." "You did the right thing by leaving her to the Embassy's care, Ambassador Delgard." The man notes, eyes scanning the hands and pockets of those nearest by. "Corellia is not the safe haven it used to be." Ambrosia sighs as the first float emerges, her brow furrowing in pain at the sight of their beloved Admiral prostrate beneath the Imperial heel. "How right you are...I suppose Tivadar would have had more than a few unpleasant words for my ears if I *did* ask for our daughter's accompaniment. She's already taken her first steps, you know." She adds in an off-the-topic note with a flashing smile. The smile fades as her words are drowned out by the bleating of murderous song. Still, diplomacy is her art, and so the woman's face morphs into a neutral stare, chin lifted high with passive observance. Enb'Zik is careful to keep his features even, putting on his best Sabacc face in response to the Imperial music and floats. He'd much rather be listening to something played by Red Shift Limit. Or maybe the haunting movements of Ballifore Figg's Alderaan Star Scream. He could do without the fascist crap, but ... well, what would one /expect/ to hear at an Imperial celebration? For now, he's able to shrug it off. As a human steps up beside him and asks a question, Ikihsa turns in the man's direction. For a brief second, he thinks about pretending he doesn't speak Basic, but the idea is quickly dismissed. "I try," he shrugs, looking Kintor over. "You?" The Imperial float and, more importantly, the music, nearly brings tears to Smitherbodkins eyes. Does he really have that much of an Imperial bent? Well, he is Corellian nobility. However, the words he says as e turns to the little blue Ortolan who has appeared by his side seem to have more to do with the art than with the choice of song. "Ah, Frederiko! Do you see that young man in the second row? The trumpeter! My wife gave him his very first trumpet lessons! She was an exuisite musician." His eyes go out of focus for a moment as he gets lost in memories long past. "Little Joran...he's all grown up, now!" Moving through the crowd without a purpose, Lando Calrissian makes no attempts to be discreet. He does not don the cover of a concealing robe, but neither does he have a red pheonix emblazoned on his chest - the man is here for business, and business alone. Making sarcastic comments at the floots is only a secondary objective Moving in amongst the other characters and mostly human faces of the crowd, Calrissian stumbles upon an oddity. Gripping his small, round, black-tinted visors by their right side, he slides them down his nose for a closer inspection. New Republic Metals, most definately. Lando decides to head toward the man as well, not noting Danik has the same frame of mind. Saddling up beside the man, he puts his hand on his shoulder. Swaying from side to side, he mumbles. "Nissh parade, ishn't its?" Silently, Mirhoz shakes his head as the Imperial floats and displays filter past. What did he expect to see, after all? Even changing hands several times, Corellia is still an Imperial planet, and during wartime it's all but impossible to avoid such displays. Shaking his head again, he buries his concerns as deeply as he can manage. Imperial world or not, several of the people observing the festivities just so happen to be VIPs, and even as unlikely as a hit is in the middle of so many people, and with such heightened security as the Espo imagines must be lurking behind every corner, it's still very much his job to ensure their survival. After watching a bit of the display, however, Mirhoz turns his eyes to the crowd, and sees a familiar face trying, and doubtlessly failing to be discreet as he makes his way towards.. "So many people; just what does he see?" Although hardly his business, he watches with intent, eager to sort out just what might be going on before it ends up blowing people up in his face. Mirhoz, after all, had seen enough of that lately. Ah, the floats. Lyra watches the strange pieces of moving popular art roll down in their procession. The first one seems to be an offering to the typical Imperial crowd, posessed of a low, single brow on their forehead, male and female alike. Especially the spineless little firecracker in the X-Wing. Surely someone could have tried harder than that, couldn't they? The second float seems a bit better than the first, playing a typical sort of military anthem of some sort, and hearing a few of the veterans and off-duty soldiers around her take up the song, it reminds the swoop-girl where she is. It isn't hard to imagine how life might have been like on Corellia once, but it's a pale shadow of that now. Lyra watches the floats her usual pleasant mask reflecting her a bubbling dislike in her. But disapproval isn't illegal, is it? In the Empire, it might very well be, but hey, she's just a face in a large crowd. Kintor sets his jaw at the sound of the music now playing. He had shifted to a new neutral stance over the past week, not sure who he supported. He takes a deep sigh, trying his best to ignore the music. To the Sullustan at his side he says, "Used to be. Then got caught up in some other stuff. Now I just live day to day. No job, no loyalties." He continues standing, reaching down a hand to pat the head of the dog by his side. Morrison walks out onto the balcony overlooking the parade area. He looks over at Maris and says, "Well, this is unexpected." His voice is thick and his dark eyes scan the crowd below tentively. "These kind of events usually draw out all kinds of people, even some Rebels every now and then." He leans forward, putting his elbows on the balcony ledge. The famous Frederiko, Ortolan musician extraordinaire, stands next to Smitherbodkins, polishing an instrument slung around his neck. "Oh, you don't say! Yes, he is very good. I can tell!" Really, the trumpeter blended in with the rest of the band, and Frederiko could not very well tell who was playing what, but Frederiko was diplomatic. "If you will excuse Frederiko," the musician says, "But he has a float to climb onto!" He gives a little bow to the gentleman and trots off into the crowd. The next entry in the parade is the float of the Galactic Swoop League, without whom the event would not be nearly as grand. This float is a giant swoop with a racer perched on top of it. The racer, a human, is dressed in black leather, and looks quite daring and brave. It looks as if one of the engines has been damaged, though it is difficult to tell if this is a result of a construction mishap or from some dangerous and potentially deadly mistake the swooper has made during his race. Following out along side Morrison, Maris glances about the mass crowd that has gathered and notes the madness. Her hand immediately slides down to the butt of her weapon that rests in her holster and surveys the area the best she can. "More like chaotic. This is what nightmares are made of." She turns so her back is to Morrison, keeping guard over him during the parade. He almost didn't come, his nevers almost got the better of him. However, amongs the self debating he did back on his ship, he decided to set out and see what was happening at the parade. Walking out of his ship he steps on the monorail and watches everything go by as he heads towards the Swoop track. Zero steps off the monorail, decked out in his CSA swoop uniform. He waddles his way down the street watching some of the floats as they go by. Danik was unaware of Lando Calrissian's presence so far. His focus was still on the man with the NR patch, pushing his way through until he finally came up alongside him, opposite Lando. He did not say anything, though. He just placed his hands into his coat's pockets, continuing to watch the floats progress. The sounds of the Black Star's Hymn were dying out now, with the arrival of the GSL float, a familiar blue figure on it. Squinting, Danik tried to get a good look, then just figured it was just another Ortolan. He had more important things at hand, anyway. Coughing, Danik looked up at the taller man, offering a slight smile. "Enjoying yourself so far, sir?" Danik asked, still unaware of Lando Calrissian right near by, and unfamiliar with Ambrosia to concern himself with her. Lando's rather interesting state, as well as his obviousNew Republic paraphenalia, attracts the attention of a trio of Imperial guards, who elbow each other and begin to make their way over the the man. "Hello...what have we here?" one of them says as they come up behind him, and he taps the man on the shoulder, the other two flanking him and crossing their arms over their chests. "I don't think you want to ruin this event," he continues, eyeing the man with obvious distaste, "and you're not really dressed very well for the occasion." The other two snicker, eyeing each other knowingly. The escort stiffens, gripping Ambrosia's wrist with one hand while he narrows his eyes at the swaying...drunk? Harmless. After giving Lando a once-over, he cocks his lips into a lopsided grin. "Yeah. Quite...elaborate," then shrugs his shoulder in attempts to disengage the hand. Ambrosia cranes her neck forward with a slight lean as she is grabbed, peering around her escort to spy Lando's lingering frame. "You can let go." She says to the guard while working her wrist gently free and offering the regal-attired man a friendly nod of her head. "We've been previously aquainted. Something akin to a waltz, if I recall correctly." She's about to offer her hand, when they are joined by a small clutch of trouble. Of course. She was present. How could she expect anything differently? "And what a fine event it is, gentlemen," croons the Ambassador, raising her voice to be heard over the booming music as it passes. She turns to meet the imperial guards with wide, sparkling eyes and a smile to rival the latest dental add. "A peaceful one, where those of any affinity can come together to celebrate their heritage. *Corellian* heritage. I'm personally eager to see what sorts of foods will be offered after the parade." With a sound of a person wearing boots, a human male, which is very long enters the Staging Area. He seems to be wearing a black Imperial Uniform, the rank insignia shows that He is a Lieutenant. His long body isnt really athletic but he does seems to be fast. He seems to have Imperial Insignias at both of his sholder's outer parts. He doesnt seem to be interested at anyone, The guy is wearing only one single Medal at his chest... Zero has disconnected. Robes swirling gently around her digitigrade feet, Snarl moves to stand at the back of a smaller group of parade watchers, careful not to block anyone's view of the hideous floats. With her head well above the crowd, the Kasa has an excellent view of the crowd itself. When the light manages to filter through faintly to her feline eyes, they glow faintly red in the shadow cast by her drawn hood. As Mirhoz continues to watch, he pauses for a moment as it seems as though Danik has stopped for no reason. But as he observes with a bit more scrutiny, the Chandrilan's eyes go wide for a moment, completely shocked that anyone would dare to dress with displays of the enemy - the Republic's, Mirhoz quickly corrects his thoughts - right on their very clothes. Practical joke or otherwise, however, Mirhoz takes a particular interest in seeing that everything is under control. After all, he'd heard about incidents that start exactly like what's afoot here. Wasting no further time, the retired Captain begins to walk towards the gathering in question, shoving and apologizing his way through a crowd nearby in the process. Calrissian, through some sort of sleight of hand, slips the escort's medals down his sleeve. Thank the force for simple adhesives. He winks slightly to the man in front of him in passing, as he rotates on his heel to face the troopers. Apparently, he also took the liberty to slide his own regalia down the embroidered cuff to chase down the others. "And what a beautiful night it is, gentlemen." Tapping a finger on the breastplate of one of the troopers, he adds: "Just here to witness your event...." Pausing, he continues. "And what a sense of /pride/ you have, hmm?" The dark indigo being sways from side to side, eyes shut. It takes a deep breath, enjoying the scent of so much flesh packed in one place. It makes it giddy. Perhaps when this is over it will follow someone home. This thought widens the smile on Lianja's lips. The GSL float looks a little more interesting with the rider and the damage and all. She stands on the tips of her toes to look over the shoulders of the taller sentients around her to get a better look at it when she notices the blue form of Frederiko clambering off the stage below the level of hte crowd but apparently heading towards the float. Soon enough, he vanishes, and the swoop-girl returns to inspecting the float. Supposedly some racing damage, it looks like damage from blaster fire to her, but she might be a bit biased, she admits to herself. Lyra's watching of the float is interrupted as she witnesses another sort of Corellian gala, a more recent sort. She watches as the Imperials come out to harass people they don't like in the crowd, watching as a few of them speak to a dark-skinned human. The New Republic entry has been buried near the back, unwelcome as the New Republic is by the planet's current regime. It is amazing that it was allowed at all, but the sway of Smitherbodkins went a long way. The float is subdued, nothing like the gaudy propaganda of the Imperial submission. This is probably due to the heavy censoring of the original design by the reluctant Imperials. It is simply a Mon Calamari Star Cruiser in orbit above a watery planet. There is nary a Republic Phoenix in sight. As this float rolls past, several aliens break through the barricades seperating the viewers from the floats. "Free Corellia!" they shout, throwing fliers and buttons into the crowd. The buttons are printed with slogans like "Imperials Rule! UNJUSTLY!" and "Aliens are people too!" The fliers are full of anti-Imperial texts, with exerpts from alleged secret internal documents about the treatment of aliens and plans for Corellia and its citizens. There are also unflattering drawings of high up Imperials like Lord Korolov and Danik Kreldin. The men swarm the New Republic float, climbing up onto it and throwing things from the platform and shouting "Up with the New Republic! Down with the Empire!" as it moves slowly along. At the noisy demonstration that suddenly errupts from an unexpected quarter, Snarl blinks and her lithe body jerks slightly with the depth of her surprise. Obviously an alien herself with her outrageous height, the Kasa narrows her golden eyes and slowly casts a wary glance around herself before looking back toward the protesters. This /could/ complicate things just a little, she notes glumly to herself. For the moment, the nine foot tall Horansi remains where she is, relying on her robes to keep her 'uninteresting' to those around her as she waits to see what sort of response is made to the disturbance. As Kintor and his dog move away, Enb'Zik is somewhat relieved. It's probably best, he realizes, to speak with as few other people as he can. Make a few contacts so you don't LOOK like a loner or miscreant, but otherwise, keep to yourself. You know, fly casual. Giving the human one last glance, something out of the corner of Zik's vision catches his attention just as the ruckus begins to emerge around the erstwhile New Republic float - an incoming button with the "Aliens are people too!" slogan hits him in the chest and bounces off his armor to land at his feet. Looking down at it with a blink, he can barely contain a snort of laughter that threatens to tear itself loose from him. Then another thought crosses his mind - maybe this isn't the best place to be right now. Lowering himself briefly, he picks up the button and slips it into a slot to hide it behind his suit's padding and stands up again to consider routes of retreat if things get too out of hand. Imperial peace indeed. The NR entry draws hardly less ire from Lyra as the Imperial floats. Eyes narrow at the limp ship hovering over a watery grave. The design commits a cardinal sin for Lyra. It's boring. Boring like vid reruns of recycling program ads. Her eyes drift back wistfully to the GSL swoop, the clean lines of the bike, wondering if it was based on any particular brand or make if it was just the flight of someone's fan-- The clambering sentients on the NR float get her interest. Their antics just seem to annoy her, though. She watches the activity with a look of stark disapproval, her hands on her hips. "If you goggleheads love the Republic so much, where were you during Sullust? Or Mon Calamari? Hiding under your desks? Put that paper down and pick up a blaster, you stupid refs," Lyra mutters, mostly to herself, though the comment makes a few of the Imperials in the crowd around Lyra chuckle. The trooper blinks at the sudden disappearance of Lando's insignias, as well as those of the rather obvious guard's. He starts to say something, but just then, the outburst from the New Republic catches his attention. Oooh, look. Considerably bigger fish to fry. Turning to Danik, whom he has just noticed, he snaps to attention, and the other two flanking him give a salute, certainly looking more official. "Orders, sir?" he says, jerking his chin toward the rabble. A button catches Lianja right in the eye knocking it out of its daze. Seconds later a flier falls at its feet. Scowling, the being stoops to pick the articles up. A shrill bark of laughter escapes it as it reads the front of the flier. It lets the flier slip from its hand and flutter to the ground. The button is sent spinning into the air, end over end. The being shakes its head sadly, smoothing out its skirt. What the heck...? Danik watches as a hand reaches and slides the NR patch he was just staring at off the tall escort's shoulder. Danik resisted the urge to burst out laughing. Were they -ignoring- him? What kind of a rebel was this? Just as he was about to grab his rapier, he had some chatter on his comlink; apparently there was another suspicious guest... and right near by. He peeked behind the tall escort, seeing the two troopers that had confronted Calrissian, the man who made a vein attempt to conceal the patch on the escort. Then he did laugh, but it was not for long... partisians had broken a barricade and hijacked a float, and Danik took his attention away from Calrissian and Ambrosia's escort to watch as anti-Imperial propaganda was thrown about, including some rather unsettling images of himself. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched several stormtroopers appear on balconies above the parade, their weapons readied to deal with the trouble makers. Danik quickly intervened however, tapping his collar comlink and ordering the troopers to stop. "Let them continue. No shooting, or else. We'll deal with them once the crowd has dispersed." Danik said, his adrenaline beginning to pump as he once again directed his attention back to the escort and Calrissian, deciding to forget the subtley and just take care of them in a direct manner. He stepped in front of the three (Lando, Ambrosia and the escort), folding his arms across his chest as he stared into Calrissian's eyes. "Nice to see you here, Calrissian," he said as one of the pictures of himself fell atop his fedora. Grabbing the paper, he crumbled it up and threw it to the floor, a slight frown forming. He acknowledged the trooper talking to him.. "Ignore the floats.. this is is Lando Calrissian, after all. So what brings you here, Calrissian? Rather foolhardy, no?" Danik asked, rubbing his chin. "Are you responsible for this mayhem?" he asked, pointing towards the float with the trouble makers. Oh, dear. A terse frown forms over Ambrosia's lips as she watches the shower of pins and fliers. These men would probably not be sleeping in their own beds tonight. A button clasped to a drawing of Lord Korolov with a leech-like mouth and worm-like torso comes close to plunking her on the head. With a cat-like motion, she snatches the paraphenalia from the air and daintily unfolds the paper to study the poorly constructed image. Her brows dually arch with mild amusement before she tunes back into the transpiring tension before her. "Excuse me, sir." She interrupts and extends the flier/button to Danik, reaching just past Lando's side. "I would dispose of it myself, but I don't see an appropriate receptacle nearby. Perhaps you're more aware of the surroundings?" The young Imperial Lieutenant Janos Audron looks at the protesting group, he shakes his head and mumbles, "They are lucky I am not in charge of the security of here..." he shakes his head. He silently starts to walk twards Danik and Lando. He whispers to his comlink. "Try to learn where their base is." he than turns to move so he can greet Admiral, "Interesting isnt it? They still belive the puny Rebel Alliance to come to save them." he says himself and shakes his head. He turns to Danik and salutes him. His medal shakes as he salutes Danik... "Greetings Sir." Catching a flier thrown his way, Lando nods slightly with clenched lips. A slight smile arches over his face as he says. "Well, Danik, I never knew you had such an affinity for ladies underwear." Not all of the pictures were vile - some were rather humorous. "In any case, I'm just here enjoying the sights as an Independent citizen. Nothing more." Some twenty meters, and perhaps ten quick apologies later, Mirhoz finds himself nearby. With his uniform still on, and his face very visible, he makes no real effort at concealment in his approach - after all, just what good would it really do if he did, even amongst the fairly crowded turnout? Still, though, he can't but help finding himself hanging back just a bit. Not even in his more youthful years had Mirhoz considered rushing into potential danger a sound idea, and up until lately, he hadn't even been in any real danger at all. Though by no means ready, he keeps his hands very near his weapons, just in case he's forced to intervene. As the trouble breaks out, however, the Chandrilan finds himself to be in a rather awkward position. Calling any of his men from their existing duties without serving a purpose is squandering Authority resources - even if it meant to help maintain order in a friendly state, such as the Empire. At the very least, Mirhoz feels as though he should warn them to be ready, just in case trouble begins. Reaching towards his comlink, he quickly prepares mentally what he'll say, going over the proper procedures and explanation fo- "Blast!" he exclaims, his hand having come up empty, "I must've left it behind." The New Republic float comes to a halt as the invaders swarm upon it, hooting and hollering and continuing to throw things into the crowd. It is clear that the driver inside is not exactly sure what to do. Some members of the assembled audience cheer or laugh, while others look quite angry, as if they are about to take matters into their hands. Eyes turn towards the stormtroopers as they appear on the balconies, some of the sentients ducking for cover or shielding their children from the potential outbreak of fire. But none comes. Not from the stormtroopers, anyway! Many of the revelers were quite drunk, and do not appreciate the good name of the Empire being besmirched by hooligans. A group of rowdy citizens breaks through the barricades and rushes the New Republic float, grabbing the aliens off of it and beginning to pummel them. "Occifer! I caught one!" they yell to the stormtroopers. Meanwhile, the rest of the floats begin to back up behind the stopped New Republic float. Frederiko's blue head peeks out from behind a sheaf of Corellian wheat, wondering what the holdup is. He waves his arms, signalling to the driver of the New Republic float to hurry up. A unsteady palanquin born on the shoulders of four skinny droids teeters its way around the corner, nearly stepping into the thoroughfare in front of the parade. The droids take up a nervous sort of trot-in-place, attempting to keep the palanquin level above their shoulders without moving into the parade and without backing up. The carriage itself is deep purple, royal, and gilded with intricate flower designs. A gauzy white curtain separates the occupant of the cabin from the rest of the world. But not for long. The curtain is thrown aside by a tiny Toydarian who sits propped up on pillows inside, wearing a snarl on his elephantine face. "What's the holdup!" Qwynt demands of the droids, before shooting an impatient yellow glance into the street. He points ahead with his folded fan and orders them ahead. "Go, go! I don't have all day. Idiots!" He snaps the curtain back in place and the droids, unsure of what to do, maneuver unsteadily around the street barriers into the parade behind Frederiko's float. Kintor slowly begins to move away from the Sullustan, mostly moving with the crowd. Luckily, the dog at his side is able to stay with him; not that it mattered. A mere whistle and the dog would find his way to the almost-human Kintor. As he walks, he continues to watch the floats, and as certain members of Corellian society break cover and spread their anti-Imperial propoganda, a small smile spreads across the man's face. When another group proceeds to attack the aliens, Kintor ponders joining the fight, just for the hell of it. He decides against it, and continues on his way. Stepping through a small crowd of people, he finds himself among an odd group, and comes to a stop. There is a somewhat tall dark skinned man being held by several Imperial marines. He identifies Kreldin among them, and decides to watch, wanting to witness what unfolds. Close enough to catch snipits of conversation with her acute hearing, but not close enough to really draw attention, the robed and hooded Kasa Horansi known to many as Snarl monitors the situation with Lando Calrissian. She hadn't known he would be here today, but... well, he DID show up easily identifiable to anyone who'd ever seen even a picture of his likeness. Not that she can really do anything to help him at the moment, but she will at least stick close enough to keep up with what is happening to him. It's difficult to focus solely on this potential crisis though, with all the broo-ha-ha going on with the New Republic's float. The Kasa recoils slightly when a flying button hits her squarely in the stomach and then bounces off to fall to the littered ground below. Lowering her gaze for a moment, Snarl is treated to a view of several fliers. Caught in an unguarded moment, she utters a brief but loud guffaw at the image of Danik portrayed on one of the sheets near her paws. Her mirth is quickly brought under control, however, when fighting noisily breaks out on and near the NR float. She grimaces and shakes her hooded head slightly. At first, the outbreak of New Republic zealots seems to amuse Smitehrbodkins to no end. He begins to laugh, slapping his knee as he watches the faces of the spectators, both the cheering ones and the angered ones. He certainly had not expected anything of this sort to happen! But then, the beatings begin, and this is somewhat less acceptable to him. No one was going to ruin his event! Not even loyal Imperial citizens! "Guards!" he calls out, signalling to a small group of stormtroopers who stand there gaping instead of helping, "Stop this at once!" He desends quickly from the stage, stricing toward an official-looking man and whispering something into his ear. The man nods, beginning to talk into his comlink. Within moments, the eager vigilantes have begun to be surrounded by both Imperial security and uniformed men ot the Galactic Swoop league. Turning around now, Enb'Zik decides to make good on his decision to retreat. A parade is a parade, he's come in, nobody has recognized him, let's not push our luck. We can do that tomorrow during the swoop race. For now, Ikihsa will be one of those backing away under the threat of those armed Stormtroopers up in the balconies. As he moves, a familiar voice -- no, several familiar voices -- turn the Sullustan's head to his right. Immediately he recognizes one of the faces, but the other one. Zik's eyes narrow thoughtfully as they settle on Danik Kreldin. Frowning, he turns back to the issue at hand, and getting himself to the back of the throng, he stops to reconnoiter his surroundings. Those overhanging parts in the viewing stands would offer the best view, but that would also be far too conspicuous. Repair shops ... plasteel ... bay doors ... he shakes his head, then finally spots something that will work. Heading toward a group of shipping crates marked FLS, Enb'Zik climbs one of the shorter ones for a better view. Hunkering down there in a place he can legitimately say he belongs, the disguised Sullustan is not aware that some fifty meters away, his wife is doing the same thing. "Calrissian," he murmurs very, very quietly to himself, "be careful." The lithe figure of an impeccably dressed woman enters the Swoop Arena with barely a second glance. Conforming to the starkness of Imperial dresscode, she is asked no questions by any of the surrounding Stormtroopers. Simply smiling to herself as ice-blue eyes scan the area. It seemed that she had come at a somewhat inappropriate time judging by the current state Security seemed to be in. Nevertheless, she continued forwards and before long spied a familiar face. "Krelden." The woman says in a distinctly low voice, moving toward him as she does so. With the pace of the event begin to get faster and faster she couldn't help but laugh. Paris was beginning to think that whomever was playing host, was most probably regreting it. Which reminded her - who exactly was playing host? It was by chance that she arrived today and had not expected such a large event to be taking place. Quite unexpectantly her eyes fall upon another familiar face, though one that seemed markedly different to her. Her eyes narrowed slightly as she studied the moving Sullustan. "I will be back shortly. I just spotted an ex-employee of mine. Y'know, from my KDY days..." She trails off, walking towards the recently-spotted Sullustan as she does so. "I hadn't expected you to be here." She utters, her voice barely above a whisper. Danik looks hard at Ambrosia, unsure who she was. He wasn't too familiar with republic politicians. He took the garbage from her hand and crumbled it up, throwing it on the ground like the previous one. "Nice company you have, dear," Danik said, looking between Calrissian and the escort, but directing it to Ambrosia. But things were growing too far out of hand to deal with his old friend Lando, or the female and her escort. And now Baedan Mirhoz had appeared, approaching him and his company. Danik had lost his respect for Mirhoz when he turned in his resignation during the Battle of Sullust. He didn't want to associate himself with the man, and even if he wanted to, the float had now been ambushed by pro-Imperial forces, and the com chatter was growing heavy. He had no time for this, or Mirhoz. "Troopers, make sure these three don't leave your sight.." he said, pointing at the troopers who had confronted Calrissian earlier. "I shall be right back." He barely heard Paris call him, and he didn't have time to acknowledge Janos, but he did give Paris a quick glance in his hasty retreat to where Smitherbodkins was, watching as she approached a Sullustan. She looked familiar..somewhat. Wasn't she on Chandrila with him during the campaign? Well, no time to dwell on it now. The parade was crumbling around him. The aging Kreldin took speed, pushing his way through the crowd to the stage where Smitherbodkins was. The stormtroopers he was ordering around merely ignored the nobleman, not recognizing his authority, still adhering to Kreldin's orders to stand down. He saw Smitherbodkins yelling at a few people, trying to salvage the situation as well. Kreldin marched towards the man, almost ready to throw a punch. His trust in the man was already low due to his possible connection with the Jedi, and now this.. he was certain he was responsible. He tapped his comlink once more, and gave the orders to move in to pacify the area. As Kreldin put the order in, he rapidly approached Smitherbodkins. "You! Who authorized a rebel float in this parade? Was it you?" Danik shouted, trying to grab Smitherbodkins by his collar. For what it's worth, Lyra found herself getting a little bored. The floats were pretty neat, but the scuffling was in a sad state. Gangwars on Nar Shaddaa were a lot more interesting. Still, she hasn't learned boorish manners sufficently well enough to fake a yawn or anything like that. Now, if someone started shooting...it would be a disaster. Okay, maybe not. With a forlorn expression, the redhead resigns the event to one of those things that were a good idea at the time, until she sees Danik confronting Smitherbodkins. Now that ought to be interesting as she begins to push through the crowd to get a better look at the looming confrontation between Danik and the gambler. Clearly it had been too long since her face had last been spread over the holovids. Not since the CDU / NR peace pact, at any rate. Thankful for this apparent lack of notoriety (at least in the shadow of Lando Calrissian), Ambrosia stares after the retreating man in the fedora blankly. After a moment of two of having been left in the troopers' care, she exchanges a glance with her escort, then bends to pluck the trash from the ground where Danik had so carelessly misplaced them. Gathering them delicately into one hand, she straightens out and offers them next to one of the troopers with the same, expectant expression of an innocent child. "With pride and ownership comes responsibility in maintaining the cleanliness of one's estate." She declares, and waits for a moment before wisely adding "Or you can point me to the nearest receptacle and I'll do it myself." Lando rocks back and forth on his feet, arms impatiently folded behind his back. "Seems as if Danik's linegerie is twisted a bit to tight, doesn't it?" he says to no-one in particular. Looking over at the Stormtroopers with fingers rubbing his chin slowly, he cocks his head to the side and narrows his eyes at the trooper on the left. The arms that are folded stiffly behind his back creep down to his belt-line and feel the secure lump that is his hand-cannon. "So, how's the guard life treating you two?" Nodding with satisfaction at how the guard had handled the outburst, Smitherbodkins claps him on the shoulder, beginning to turn back toward the parade to make sure that no more little mishaps decided to take place. However, it seems that there's a mishap taking place right there, as he is accosted by an irate Danik Kreldin. He's taken completely by surprise at this treatment, so much so that he just stands there gaping for a moment. Didn't this man know who he -was-? "Get your hands off me, you brute!" he finally manages to say, attempting to push the man backward, his face twisting with rage, "Of course I authorized it! Have you gone mad? How was I supposed to know that this was to happen? The Empire was supposed to provide guards for just such occurances! I cannot do everything, you know!" He brandishes his cane at the man, "What are you doing just standing around here? I am trying to salvage this event, and you either stand their gawking or start harassing the wrong person!" The young Imperial Lieutenant talks to his comlink, "We need reinforcements. Repeat we need reinforcements. This place is going crazy." he shakes his head. He runs after Danik to protect him if he can. He runs to two random stormies on the way which are looking around for what to do, "You two. Go and cover Admiral. Protect him with your lives!" he commands and the two stormies rush with him twards danik to protect him from danger... Corellia. Again. Normally a visit to the vicinity of RASA would be a cause for celebration. It *was* one, in the old days at least, though Johanna can't entirely figure out why she's come here. In fact, she's more than a little disoriented and gets lost three times on her way to the large street where the parade is being held, right in front of the track. She finally finds the place and stumbles around a bit, bumping into beings in the throng assembled to see the parade (and the scandalous Republic float on an Imperial world). Wow. Clearly someone had paid or killed off the right people to get THAT entry in. "Out of my way," the pilot snaps at a young mother and her child, the strange gait of her uneven walk bringing her more to the right than she'd like as she mutters to herself about the audacity of brats these days and pauses for a course correction of sorts. Looks like she's arrived just in time for the fireworks. The kind pertaining to interactions between beings, not the pretty colors that go boom in the sky. Oh great. Drama at the party. Didn't they just have this show back at Smitherbodkins' estate? Speaking of Smitherbodkins... with a sigh, Johanna pushes further back, in no mood to become embroiled in any explosions or shenanigans today. Hopefully nobody will try and steal anything. Or bother her. Yes, especially not her. Slowly, heeding the demands of the Ortolan waving his arms, the New Republic float begins to limp forward, leaving the brawl behind it. Thankfully, the security that Danik has called in swoops in and begins to dissipate the fray. While the drunken Imperial citizens are pulled off the aliens and sent on their merry way without consequence, the rebels are dragged off out of sight by the Imperial forces. Left in their wake is a fluttering pile of anti-Imperial propaganda being blown into the crowd and littering the street. The final float, the one signifying the Corellian Harvest festival and the one that Frederiko is riding on begins to inch forward to fill the void left now that the New Republic float has moved on and the brawl has been dissipated. However, the float encounters a new problem: Qwynt's palnquin seems to have wandered onto the route and is in the way. A honk honk noise comes from within the float, directing the droids to move along. Again, Frederiko's head peeks out to see what the problem is. Sigh. Smitherbodkin's events seem to be plagued by fights... Lianja sighs loudly, as it draws it smoothes its skirt out. Time to leave, yes. The being places a polite smile on its face, parting the crowd with polite words and well placed shoves. For a moment, Mirhoz looks completely baffled once more as he watches Danik simply leave the situation at hand, and move off elsewhere. Surely, by all logic, it would be absolutely unfeasible for the aging military advisor to take on every last aspect of Imperial control, and carry the responsibility as his own. Yet, as far as Mirhoz could tell, that is indeed what is happening, leaving only a pair, or perhaps a trio should the Chandrilan's view be at all impaired, of soldiers to guard the group. Despite the inherent danger, Mirhoz steps forward towards the gathering, feeling that this may be the safest chance to approach yet available. "What seems to be the matter here?", Mirhoz loudly inquires to the soldiers Danik has left behind, pretending for the moment that he has no idea of what's going on. After all, to some extent, that's very true, as for instance at no point in his career in the Imperial Navy had Mirhoz had to know what Lando Calrissian looks like, although the name, said aloud, would be very familiar to him. Taking a quick glance towards the rioting elsewhere, and the order coming in from Janos, Mirhoz adds: "Please, allow me to watch over them as you go handle those miscreants." Ikihsa Enb'Zik would leave if it weren't for the fact that he /needs/ to know what's about to happen with Calrissian. Frankly, however, he would be a lot more comfortable if one of his more human crew members were here to keep an eye on things. They tend to draw less attention to themselves in a crowd than Sullustans do. Still, there's always the Seen Em All rule, and thank the Maker for that. His brow is thoroughly furrowed with thought for several seconds before he remembers that if he doesn't calm down, he's going to get more attention than he wants. Which is none. A feminine figure approaches the small group he's watching, and he quickly recognizes the woman as Paris. And then she seems to recognize him. "Oh, not good," he murmurs as she turns to approach. It is apparent, however, that no amount of his chagrin is going to change her course. When she reaches him, Enb'Zik is forced to climb down from his perch, losing sight of Lando but with luck, getting out of sight of anyone that might notice him talking with Paris. "I'm /not/ here," he responds to her, his voice as quiet as hers as he points at the name patch on his swoop gear. Still silent and as inconspicuous as it is possible for a nine foot being to be in a public place teeming with short people, Snarl observes Lando and his party with an aire of mild curiousity. The Kasa Horansi is aware of several things in addition to the small group she is keeping tabs on. The New Republic float is finally on the move, but there's /still/ a disturbance over there of a different sort now. From beneath her hood, the feline's golden eyes have also discovered the presence of a few familiar faces. Her gaze rests only briefly on a particular Sullustan and a Human standing near him toward the back of the crowds before shifting yet again. She needs to keep tabs on Lando. Zik will have to take care of himself for the moment. The dark uniformed Imperial Lieutenant shakes his head, He turns to Mirhoz and speaks in a diplomatic tone. "This is already out of hand. Return to your place Captain." he says his rank... "Reinforcements are already under way." Joining the mass crowd of confusion, Maris moves as she scans the area for an Imperial Officer with some rank or at least one who would know exactly what's going on. Spotting and hearing Janos, she decides to head in his direction, even pushing people out of her way if necessary to make it over to him. "It's okay, Zik, they don't recognise me either...or at least they don't -know- who I am." She moves slightly closer to him, lowering her voice as she does so. "What's best is that we keep up the pretence of mildly knowing eachother. I told Kredlen you are an ex-KDY employee...Don't worry, either, he didn't seem too interested." She said, giving a small smile. "What's the matter?" She asked, looking around her. It looked like things were getting sort of crazy and it didn't take long for her to spy Lando and a suspiciously tall figure close by. "Lando." She says simply, her voice barely audible. She made certain not to give both the figures anymore than the quickest of glimpses. Maybe she could help? But she didn't know how. Best that she didn't get too involved as it was hardly the intelligent thing to do. "I am going to go find our host. Will you be okay here?" She asks simply, though she barely waits for an answer as she disappears into the crowd, eyes scanning for whomever looks the most horrified. It doesn't take her long to spy Smitherbodkins. His face was completely unfamiliar to her, which was strange, as she knew most high-ranking Imperials. Which of course meant that he probably wasn't an Imperial at all. She moved toward him silently, "My oh my, things are getting crazy aren't they?" She laughs as she adresses the man. "Yes, and they're right here!", Mirhoz lies.. or explains via half-truth, perhaps, depending on how the next few moments unfold. Of course, that would render Baeden as the kind of reinforcements that Lieutenant Audron would much rather not see. Taking hold of his blaster, but not yet removing it from the holster by any means, Mirhoz turns to the as-yet unknown figure of Lando to speak. "This man assaulted me just yesterday on Etti IV, and I'm taking him and his accomplices in for questioning, Lieutenant. Go and see to your duties, my case against them takes precedence." But then, after all, Mirhoz really does lie from time to time. Choosing this slightly more opportune moment to make his getaway, Lando issues a curt bow as he turns on his heel. Straightening his outfit and repositioning his visor, the man nods, adds a stiff "Well, I must be leaving..." and begins to attempt to stroll up and out of the arena proper. About four steps away, Lando hears Mirhoz speaking of him. Cursing under his breath he takes a deep breath. However, he decides that it would be in his best interest to try and continue walking. Perhaps an option to get out of the area with a quicker pace would present itself. Since her encounter with Vadim, Imperials not of his ability just don't seem to faze her the way they used to. Certainly not when she could kill them from a distance. There was a time not long ago when Johanna would have endeavored to disguise herself upon entering Imperial territory, but it seems that time has passed and she plants an unfriendly elbow into an adolescent Sullustan's side, shoving him away in a most unbecoming manner. What the kark is WRONG with everyone today? Can't they see she needs to get through, to put rows of beings between the street and her? Good Maker. Wait... is that Lando? No, it can't be. It just can't be. Impossible. Hadn't she rescued him from Eson's group fairly recently? What's he doing in Imperial space? Maybe he's hankering for an arrest, or maybe an execution! Who knows. She had heard rumors flying about during the duration of Han's internment in Imperial prisons, and the adventures of Leia as she searched for her missing husband. Perhaps Lando is simply nostalgic for the good old days. Danik calmed down, closing his eyes and taking in a deep breath, taking a few steps back from Smitherbodkins. "We did provide security. -You- failed to tell us that you were allowing such trash to be present in your parade. We weren't expecting it!" Danik said, watching as the Imperial stormtroopers finished rounding up the pro-rebellion civilians, only to see yet another problem occur, in the form of a creature that was unknown to Kreldin, causing a stall in the parade. "Get that creature off the road!" Danik shouted to a few available troopers, turning away from the stuck up noble and pointing at the palnquin, watching the same Ortolan peek its head out of the float. Sighing, Danik once again looked back at the nobleman as Janos arrived with a few extra troops...the same troops who were defending Lando. "Lieutenant? Who is watching over Calrissian and those two others...?" he asked, frowning deeply at the lieutenant. This was a disaster! Watching Lando attempt to extricate himself from his predicament, Snarl heartily wishes she could offer him some sort of assistance. As it is now, all she can do is continue to monitor his situation and hope for the best. Maybe another fight will break out closeby or something. Smothering a sigh, the Horansi executes a quick scan of her surroundings and comes up with yet another surprise. She blinks and stares at the Jedi woman elbowing her way through the crowd with all the delicacy and manners of a bull in a china shop. What is Johanna doing here? Golden eyes quickly shift back toward Lando and the small group with him. The Young lieutenant Janos Audron shakes his head to Danik, "These are not the ones you left Sir." He turns to Mirhoz. "Indeed? I will take care of it when I am finished with you. You are trying to decept me So you can assassinate Admiral?" he keeps in front of Danik, the troopers raise their weapons to Mirhoz "I think not. Troopers Stun him." he orders to troopers calmly as he blocks path to Danik from Mirhoz... About the time Lyra gets closer to the front of the crowd, she notices that whatever brewing confrontation between Danik and Smitherbodkins had abruptly gone as flat old Corellian beer, the Imperial apparently getting a handle on the situation and more of his stooges arriving all the time. Perhaps he didn't assert authority with the air of a vengeful Maker standing in judgement, but he was sending his people running to and fro, including some unhappy words to one his cronies. She glances over to see what exactly the commotion is about, eyes passing over a some suspiciously hooded hugely tall sentient towering over the crowd but moving as if it thought it was inconspicious, that same dark-complexioned fellow from earlier, and Johanna. Er, wait. Johanna? The swoop-girl does indeed notice the Jedi and begins to make her way through the crowd towards the Tatooine native to talk to her when she notices Johanna shoving some child out of her way. That was rather un-Johanna-like. Perhaps she'd finally gotten pickpocketed or something and seen the light. Lyra doesn't call out to the woman until she's near enough so that she doesn't have to shout like some simpleton, though. "Johanna, what are you doing here?" Oh, this could not POSSIBLY be going worse. In a span off less than a minute, Paris has spotted him, drawn Imperial attention to him - Danik Kreldin's attention, no less! - spoken his name, and left again. Unbelievable. Suddenly cross, Enb'Zik makes a point of speaking with Paris later on in this mess. If he'd had half an opportunity before she walked away, he would have sternly entreated her to keep her distance. As it is, his cover story - AND his false identification - have absolutely zero background with KDY-SFS. The Sullustan reflects that he may not have ever seen a mission go this bad this quickly. The only good thing about this is that the Imperials are too busy with everything else that's taking place to have really paid any attention to anything Paris told them. Still, if Danik sits down and actually thinks about all this ... it might be better to have his team off the planet before that can happen. DAMN IT, Zik swears mentally. Blowing a breath out through his nostrils, Enb'Zik turns away from the shipping crates and pauses. Pulling a micro-sized datapad from a pocket behind one of the armor cells in his racing suit, he quickly scribbles notes onto its screen and presses the send key. Seconds later, a similar device on Paris' person vibrates, then beeps twice very quietly, indicating an urgent message. As Danik steps out of Smitherbodkins' personal space, the gentlemen seems to relax as well, if only slightly. Thumping the end of his cane on the ground, his tone is awash with anger as he says, "I -did- tell you! What do you take me for??" It had been expressly noted in the list that he had sent them four days ago. That was why the float was so heavily censored, after all. Or wait, did he? J'Eeves was supposed to take care of that...well, there's no use backing down now. "If you cannot do your job, sir, I cannot be held accountable for it!" Paris' arrival near the two gentlemen catches Smitherbodkins' attention, and, now that he is not being manhandled, he can respond to it, though he does seem a bit distracted. Understandably so. "They certainly are, my lady!" he agrees, his gaze flicking from Danik to the turmoil down near the floats, "I hope that our friends will soon have it under control!" He shakes his head, eyeing the Imperial pointedly. A strangled sort of sound procures from Ambrosia's throat as the newly arrived man (Mirhoz) names her as the commiter of a crime she'd no knowledge of. Turning 'round to look at him with bewhildered eyes of accusation, she spies Lando's attempts at making a smooth getaway. A smooth getaway that left her here, of course. Feeling the reassuring weight of her escort's hand on her shoulder, she sends a spiteful glare towards the back of Calrissian's head, then clears her throat sharply. "Actually, officers, I'm equally curious as to what precisely is afoot here. If you think my friends and I to be in affiliation with any trouble of sorts here, you could not be further from the truth. The Corellian Festival is an open event for those who wish to remember their roots." Planting herself before Mirhoz specifically, she arches a brow. "If there has been a new definition given to the terms 'open event' I can assure you that I missed the memo. I am an exhausted mother of a flighty fourteen month old, sir, hoping to escape the dreary hub-ub of office work to show my support to the Corellians at this event in my husband's place. I am sincere when I state that I've no energy left within me to attempt any sort of ruckuss, so clearly you've our intentions confused. Now if you will excuse me, I've need to tend the ladies' room." Offering a curt smile in her self-granted departure, the Ambassador turns on a smart heel with a gesture to her personal guard and begins to take a few testing steps away, craning her neck in efforts to search the crowd. And she could not have done so at a better time, for the moment she turns away, the orders buzz into the helmets of the troops stationed to watch her. Finally having made her way over to Janos and now Danik, Maris approaches both and states, "2nd Lt Maris Becton Chief of Security for the ICC Dauntless. What is the current situation and how can I be of service to you?" Her eyes shift between Janos and Danik, awaiting for the information and then adds, "Brigadier General Morrison Van Sen is on his way and will be here shortly." "I said hold! Or do you not value your life?!" Mirhoz cries at Lando, hoping to get him to stop before the notoriously trigger-happy Imperials attempts to order anything rash. After all, Mirhoz had to believe that offering a life and perhaps a short prison term is vastly superior to the death that awaits the small group should they either try to fight their way out, or even stand still and later be executed as scapegoats for the rioting. Although he's by no means certain that he can manage this without the troopers or any Imperial officers that have attended the parade noticing, at the very least, the Espo has to give it a try. Only, just as he's started to move in pursuit of Lando, he will soon be no doubt cut down by stun blasts from all around him. Assuming the orders of the Lieutenant are carried out. As a matter of good taste, and practice from his dear wife on Chandrila, Mirhoz finds that he hardly hears Ambrosia at all, and as such makes no real effort to change his course at this point. Seeing that the droids are not moving along, and continue to block the parade route, Frederiko heaves an angry sigh and climbs down off the float. "Excuse me! Excuse me!" he says as he approaches the small group carrying Qwynt. "Please move along! You are in the way! Can't you see we are trying to have a parade here?" He waves his jizzaphone at all the floats and band and dancing Twi'lek drifting down the street and out of sight along the route. "You are holding us up! GO GO!" he yells, shooing the droids out of the way before turning and going back to the final float. The look Johanna shoots Lyra isn't meant to be nice. "What business is it of yours?" she snaps, irritable for a moment before she composes herself and regards the other woman with a predatory appreciativeness, "I came here to watch the parade. There's little in the galaxy that can hold my attetion any longer. Surely you know how that is." Of course she does, she's Lyra. With a sniff of disdain Johanna pulls her duster tighter around herself, determined to keep her secret just that. Unless, of course, someone tries something stupid, like mug her, in which case she'll be forced to kill them and leave the body for the cleanup crews. "I cannot abide a ruckus." What? Hello? Project much, Johanna? She is, after all, the master of causing insane situations that usually involve a homicidal astromech by the name of Cricket and someone being set on fire and spaced. Luckily for Calrissian, the crowd of Imperial citizens is very close. Any firefight would result in drastic civilian casualties. Sliding in between a pair of raucously chatty middle-aged men, Calrissian is soon just part of the crowd. He quickens his pace, hoping to shake off any tails in the crowd. As an added precaution, Lando's hand slides the weapon around to the front of his body - still concealed. How successful he will be in any firefight or avoision situation, however, remains to be seen. Paris smiles to Smitherbodkins, thought inwardly she was thinking the word 'friends' was a little innapropriate. What didn't make sense to her was the uproar taking place. This planet had been either Neutral or New Republic for so long that she couldn't really fathom the Corellian's laying down and conforming to Imperial rule. But then again, this Galaxy was starting to become a stranger and stranger place. What, with the Imperial and NR playing Musical planets. Most of the time she hardly knew who owned what these days. "Well, at least the floats look good." She replied, "Though, perhaps the reason this happened was because of the float's subject matter." Paris said, with a small wink, "The StarCruiser is an image of war, and probably wasn' the best choice in Imperial-occupied territory - giving the Imperial's patriotism." Again she smiled, before a small beep began to emit from within her purse. "Excuse me." She said, distancing herself from the rest of the party. As she read the transmission the smile seemed to drop from her face - if only slightly. "Okay." She whispered to herself. It seemed she had made a bit of an error coming to the party, but leaving would only be suspicious, so she turned back to Smitherbodkins. Smiling slightly she asked, "I'm Paris Sieara, by the way. Pleasure to meet you." The woman grinned. The large Imperial General makes his presence known by flattening several onlookers as he moves on Maris' signal. Looking like a skyscraper amongst most of the gathered humans, Morrison is given passage by most of the other parade watchers as he approaches. He talks into his comlink as he moves. Lyra pauses for a moment and seems nonplussed at Johanna's attitude towards her. Not that Lyra wasn't used to threats and feigned hostility and so on from people she associated with. That's all gangs were half of the time. It just wasn't something she expected from the woman from Tatooine. "Just curious," the swoop-girl replies with the barest of shrugs, glancing over at where all sorts of people seem to suddenly be finding better things to do than stand around and be seen by Stormtroopers and similar thugs. "Parade wasn't bad, first Imperial Float was as bad as a dead Bantha, though. They should shoot whoever made that one," Lyra replies casually, as if the troops and public safety officers running to and fro around her were some everyday occurance and meant nothing to her. Or if she were bored of them and dismissed them from her mind. "Some stupid refs started throwing buttons and flies everywhere and started this when the Republic float came out," she says, jerking a thumb over her shoulder at where the 'subdued' float is still in sight barely. "But listen, I need to talk to you about something...like when you have time, Johanna. It's about Radke..." she says, her flightly gang-girl mannerisms gone in a moment as her voice drops and becomes more serious. Several Imperial troopers assist Frederiko in his attempts to shoo Qwynt and his group off the parade, using the threat of their ST-Is to make them do it faster. Once the path was clear, the troopers stepped out of the way and waved towards the blue Ortolan, telling him to continue the parade, even though things were still a bit hetic. The other troopers were still mopping up what was left of the rebels, slapping cuffs on those they could contain. As per Danik's orders, not a single shot was fired, contrary to usual Imperial policy regarding such matters.. The two other stormtroopers, however, had heard an order over their comlinks to take down Mirhoz. With all the confusion, they had no idea what to do.. they just raised their ST-Is, already set to stun, and fired off a shot at the former officer. Danik, on the other hand, was still dealing with the stuck-up nobleman, who had now been joined by Paris. As she introduced herself, he remembered her; the former CEO of KDYSFS, and the lady who was on the ground during the siege of the Chandrilian prison. What did happen to her... well, that was for another time. Smitherbodkins had his blood boiling. "No, we -weren't- notified, otherwise we wouldn't have allowed it at all. Things are beginning to calm down fortunately.." Danik said, sighing as he watched the last of the troopers clear the parade route of the struggling rebels. What would happen to them was unknown to Danik..shipped off to who knows where. He had no hand in that matter, nor did he care. They deserved their fate. "I'll be speaking with you after this parade is over, sir.." Danik said, pointing a finger at Smitherbodkins before turning about. Clearing her throat, rather loudly, Maris looks between Janos and Danik as she states, "2nd Lt Maris Becton Chief of Security for the ICC Dauntless. What is the current situation and how can I be of service to you?" Her eyes shift between Janos and Danik, awaiting for the information and then adds, "Brigadier General Morrison Van Sen is on his way and will be here shortly." Radke. The name is enough to drive Johanna to distraction, the horrific and confusing memories it dredges up leaving her visibly shaken as she gazes at Lyra. "What about her," the pilot demands, an eerie light springing to life behind her dark eyes, "Is she here?" She moves fractionally closer to the gang-girl and supresses the urge to bare her teeth in a gesture of aggression. "Who have you been talking to about me, Lyra-child?" What?! Okay! Now she's paranoid, clearly. She stares at the redhead a while before scooting back a step, corners of her mouth turned down. "You and your half-there garbage, Lyra. Always coming at everyone only half there and only half engaged. How does it feel to go through life like that? Have you ever though of making the galaxy a better place and just standing in front of a hovertrain?" Nobody asked you for an insane lecture, Johanna. Try to remember that part because it's sort of important. Against her better judgment, she delivers a mighty kick to a fellow who brushed against her trying to get past to his wife. Morrison moves along the throngs of party goers until he comes up alongside Maris. He places a hand on the officer's shoulder and says, "Corsec will hear from me about this. This is the worst crowd control I've ever seen." The large general pulls his jacket open and checks the weapons at his side. "We should Id the Imperial VIPs around here in case this thing gets out of hand." He looks at the parade floats and asks Maris to point out the rebel float if she can find it. Two Blue rings gets out of the Trooper's blasters and they move slowly and hits Mirhoz. The young Imperial Lieutenant sighs, "It was what I had to do..." he feels sadness that he ordered that but he gets back to himself again. He turns to Maris, "Good. Reinforcements. Lieutenant, take Captain Mirhoz to care. I am still not sure what he was trying to do." He turns to Danik. "I am sorry Sir. He was acting oddly, I wasnt sure of his intention. Thats why I ordered him to be stunned." he sighs... With a flick of her wrist, Ambrosia dislodges her comlink from her belt and speaks with hurried monotone. "C-41...C4 listen up. I want you to hail a shuttle. I then want you to send a message to the Minister of State, regarding the festivities. I uh...I might be late returning. Something came up. Then I want you to contact President Elana Tracer. Inform her that I may be out of touch for a brief while, depending on how these 'festivities' pan out, in case she wishes to proceed with our meeting." There's a pause as the familiar sound of 'clack-a-clack' of wielded weaponry resounds a few meters behind her. She looks over her shoulder to witness the prepared stunning of Mirhoz just before her escort rams her shoulder forcefully and drags her into the crowd. "HURRY" He growls, not wishing to join the fate of the others. Stumbling onward, Ambrosia continues to prattle into the link for a moment longer. "Yes, I know that. No, I...I...C4 just do as I say. Now." Eyes blurred with tears of frustration, she crams the link onto her belt, misses, and it goes clattering to the ground before crunching beneath the feet of startled civilians. They didn't teach you how to run in 'diplomacy school', though perhaps they should. Fortunately, this unconventional Ambassador had had alternative training. "Get off me!" She snaps to the cumbersome escort as they make fast tracks after Lando's former route. Smitherbodkins' attention is still split between the lovely woman and the rather annoying Imperial. A sigh escapes his lips as he shakes his head at the man, making a sweeping gesture to the men quelling the rioting NR zealots. "Lucky for you that you have it under control, sir," he admonishes, as he steps forward to survey the chaos before him. His parade, his beautiful parade! What had they done to it??? He bad brought in the extra security, he had informed the Imperials, he had stayed up late and gotten up early for a week, and all for naught! Were his events now cursed always to end in disaster? It seemed so, from the looks of this one. Turning badk to Paris, he begins to say something, but she then excuses himself. Curse it! Another opportunity ruined by the Imperial in front of him. He says nothing more to the man, simply stweing in his own ire. A guard comes up beside him, and begins, "Lod Smitherbodkins, would you-..." "Not now! Just take care of it," the gentleman snaps, waving him away. Can't they do one thing without his supervision? One moment he's in a rather heated pursuit of what is very obviously an important person, given the level of attention that Kreldin had lavished upon the fleeing and no longer even visible Lando. But the next, something that even in his most wildest fantasies Mirhoz had not believed to be possible occurs. The stun blasts, both of them in fact, land squarely upon his back, and instantly the muscles on the ex-Imperial's body go limp. In a split second he tries to adjust his fall, so that maybe he'd land in such a way that his armor would absorb most of the impact; but it's little use, as before the ground even contacts with Mirhoz's head, the Espo is unconscious. The obstacle having been cleared, the Ortolan hustles back to the final float in the parade. It begins to wheel slowly out of the staging area. On top of the parade is a giant spherical sun, shining down on fields of Corellian Wheat, Galactic Corn, and Tralusian Spinach, just a few of the myriad of crops that are harvested on Corellia each year. From aboard the float, jizz music begins to play. Those who follow jizz music would recognize it as one of Wailing Frederiko and the Sack of Pancakes #1 hits from the last year. And indeed, the roof of the giant sun begins to open, exposing the band inside. Frederiko is perched atop a swoop, playing his jizzaphone. The swoop has been done up to look like a chariot, with giant wooden wheels on each side. The float inches down the street. Sadly, much of the audience has already begun to disperse in the chaos following the New Republic float. They were missing the best part! Maris is beginning to think that all of this has long surpassed a /big/ favor and nods to Morrison when he inquires about the float. She points over to the general direction of where it last was and said, "Over that way." She then turns back to Janos when he asks her to remove the man that's just been stunned and inquires, "Where do you wish his be moved to and what information do you have on him?" Making haste towards the exit, Calrissian slows after he notices that the Imperials seem to be paying less and less attention to him. Slowing to a halt, he heads a few steps toward Ambrosia and her escort. Pulling two small hold-out blasters from his boots, he hands one to each. Without any introductions, he states: "I have a way of getting off this rock. But we should move fast." Behind his crates, Enb'Zik has lost all sight of the goings on. He does not see Paris leaving the crowd. He does not see Calrissian or Ambrosia making it safely away. He hears the sound of stun rays going off and the choked cry of what he presumes to be their victim, but he doesn't see that, either. The noise is enough to tell him things are past the point of out-of-hand. He also never sees Johanna, or her temper gone horribly, horribly bad. Clearing the screen on his datapad, the Sullustan begins scribbling a second message in the angular, Aurabesh characters, and a second later, a beeping similar to the one Paris heard begins to emit somewhere from within Snarl's robes - UNIT ZERO DISENGAGING. HIGH CAUTION. HOOK AT 001011011. With the upbeat pomp of Frederiko's band playing in the background, Ambrosia darts and weaves her way through the crowds with her escort in tow. Well, this couldn't have been a bigger waste of a shuttle ticket. Actually, yes...yes, there could have been bad wine. Counting her blessings, the woman pauses for just a moment to look back and ensure that they are not being chased after. Seeing Lando and his offerings, she smirks. "I carry my own, thank you." Reaching into her tunic, she reveals a palm blaster, then tucks it away again. "I highly suggest we move faster than fast. And pick up my droid in the process." Grabbing her escort by the sleeve, she makes a motion for Lando to lead on and keeps close on his heels. "Well, she was --" Lyra begins in some attempt to frame a reply but Johanna just plows on and Lyra stops bothering trying to reply when Johanna decides to make her eyes glow. Now there was something she didn't see every day. There's really no way for the swoop-girl to look blase when people's eyes start glowing. Call it a personality flaw. "No she's not here she --" "Who have I been speaking...?" For once it's Lyra who can't finish a thought as Johanna does her best verbal impersonation of a drunken bull Bantha stomping around a store full of Chandrilia porcelain and now turns to verbally savaging Lyra herself. "Half there? Hovertrains? What are you talking about? Are you on Spice or something?" she regards the ranting desert woman incredulously as if Johanna pulled off a rubber mask and revealed herself to actually be Jabba the Hutt. And if it weren't for you meddling swoop-girls, I'd have gotten away with it, too! The entire moment helps itself to an extra few helpings of surreality especially when Johanna pauses in her tirade to kick some passerby just in time for two big glowing rings of stun beams race behind Johanna's back to hit some fleeing fellow. Once, Lyra would have found this kind of random violence to be uproariously funny, but not at the moment. Morrison says to Maris, "Belay that order." His voice is loud over the crowd, edgy. "You're not on naval duty when your boots are on soil, your under my command." He watches the chaos and doesn't want his trooper getting mixed up in the mess until the authorities arrive and sort things out. "We'll need to keep close to the advisor here." With her line of sight well over the heads of nearly everyone else, Snarl sees a lot of different events taking place at various distances from her position. The golden eyes note with satisfaction the successful escape of the ever smooth and slippery Lando. They also see the strange behavior of Johanna, although the Jedi is too far away to be overheard. The Horansi witnesses the stunning of someone involved with the attempted restraint of Calrissian, but she really isn't certain exactly what happened there. As she is filing all these events away chronologically in her memory, the Horansi is nearly startled right out of her concealing robes when one of her interior pockets starts beeping. Recovering her composure, Snarl retrieves a small datapad and glances at the message flashing on the screen. Brows furrowing ever so slightly, she utters a very quiet rumbling as she stows the device back into her clothing and then casually turns to begin meandering off toward the exit. Maris, despite her not being in uniform, salutes Morrison and barks, "Yes, sir!" She reaches for her weapon and takes her next move from her superior officer. Danik lets out one more sigh, the stress of the parade letting loose. General van Sen and his team had finally arrived, a bit late, though. Still, at least no further interruptions were ensured. Danik walked away from Smitherbodkins, approaching Janos. "Lieutenant, where are the three suspects I had? One of them was Lando Calrissian.. I don't see them," Danik said, frowning as he looked around. "Don't tell me..." He resisted the urger to slap his forehead. "van Sen!" Danik shouted, looking over to Morrison and Maris. "Lando Calrissian and two other rebels have escaped. I suggest you close off all exits and seal off the starports. He escaped me last time.. I won't allow it happen again!" Lando walks with an extreme speed toward the closest unguarded exit. He does, however, happen upon an odd sight. Behind one of the closest supply crates, Calrissian picks up on the huddled form of Enb'Zik. Sliding quickly up beside him, he mutters: "Hey there - need to get out?" Although late to the festivities, a fully alert and relatively prepared Sima approaches the parade area in haste. Truly, most people appear to be fleeing, from as much as the Twi'lek can tell, which can only mean one thing. "Mm, it better be worthwhile!", Sima calls towards one of the former onlookers as the pair pass each other. Although he'll never see it, or think of it again, the man looks back at Sima in disgust. Not that it would have bothered the Twi'lek all that much, even had he seen the look. After all, the man clearly knew what Sima had been talking about, and that in and of itself is a plus! Still, better late than never, he does arrive. And immediately begins to frown. For it seems to Sima very quickly that the better portion of the action has already been missed, and little to occupy his attention other than, say, sudden and total destruction by attempting an open move against the Imperials, who appear to be gaining a degree of control on the situation. "I think not!" "Lights," Morrison curses and looks at Danik before whipping out his comlink. "Corsec Control, this is Gen. Morrison Van Sen of the IGF, I'm declaring a state of emergency in Coronet City and decree Imperial Authority over the transportation command. Lock down the spaceport and all out-bound arteries leading away from the city." He looks to Maris after listening to some more comlink chatter. "Lt. Maris, Corsec troops are coming down the street, make your way to them and have them put CS-gas on the crowd to disperse it NOW." Morrison pulls his jacket open and whips out the modified bi-polar carbine at his side. He activates it and pulls Danik back, "Sorry sir, we're making our way to a secure location now, bring your staff and all the others with you." The young Imperial Lieutenant looks at danik, he is a bit shocked. "The Troopers we left should still be watching for them. I dont know what was wrong with Mirhoz but he was very suspicious. I wasnt sure if he was friend and foe and I ordered his stun." he turns to one of the troopers, "Trooper, take him to Conqueror 1. We are going to take him to the ship." He touches his comlink, "Conqueror, This is Janos Audron. Launch All Tie Squadrons and dont let any ship escape to hyperspace without being searched from top to toe." he sure doesnt know where Lando and others gone he just plans to stop them from escape. He adds, "Call an Interdictor Cruiser to block the Hyperspace route A.S.A.P!" He turns to Morrison, "Good to have you with us Sir, But If I am correct that Rebel scum will not try to escape from the spaceport or if they will try they will try to sneak away. We need Naval support and Conqueror is out there to help." he smiles. The guard that Smitherbodkins dismissed says something else on his comlink, and after a few moments, more guards seem to come out of nowhere to begin herding the spectators on their way. Hopefully before the gas gets to them! The people seem to be relatively willing to leave, the more vicious among them some laughing to each other at the events. The normal ones, howeever, seem horrified. One Twi'lek says to his human companion, "Is this what we have to look forward to now?" The human shrugs, shaking his head sadly, "The Empire, the New Republic...it's all the same to me." A curt nod is given to the large General as Maris replies, "Consider it done, sir." She turns and starts pushing her way through the crowd and towards the exit to meet up with the reinforcements. Great, not only has her liberty been shot but now she's missed out on the best part of all. What a waste. "What? No, no gas!" Danik shouted at Morrison. "There's no need! These people haven't done anything, and they're already dispersing," Danik said, rather confused by the order. "All we have to do is prevent Calrissian from escaping - gassing these people won't do that, it'll only cause problems for us down the line, General," Danik said, pushing away the escorts that were intended to take him to a secure location.. As the Sun float, the last in the parade, moves down the street and the parade ends, most of the spectators begin to disperse peacably. With the heightened Imperial presence, most people did not wish to stick around to see what was going to happen. With Smitherbodkins' guards encouraging people to leave, the street is rapidly emptying, leaving behind piles of garbage and anti-Imperial fliers. Men carrying large brooms and towing giant garbage bins begin to move in, hired by Smitherbodkins to tend to the mess. Calrissian soon reaches the gate, and shoves his blaster pistol into the sash-belt around his waist. Waltzing out of the arena, the man heads - mingled with the crowd - toward the spaceport with more than a little trepidation. He should not have come here. Not only did he get harassed by Imperial grunts, he never was able to meet up with his partner. No time now, however - Lando simply needs to get off the planet. "Oh no, I definitely think not", Sima exclaims as he watches over the sudden degree of organization seen amongst the Imperial ranks. Being no stranger to such actions himself, the Twi'lek assumes that somewhere, near or far, or more likely both, exits are doubtlessly being sealed. Being caught in such a situation is not what Sima had in mind when he'd rushed over to see the 'festivities', however, and just as quickly as he'd come to begin with, the Twi'lek is already making his way as quickly and discreetly as possible. "Roger that Advisor Kreldin, but be advised that its against my official recommendation. Your principle targets have already vanished." He looks at the advisor remembering full well their history together. Now the authority was in the other man's hand and Morrison was fine with the arrangement. He gets on the comlink. "Belay the gas order. Dispersal should be done peacefully, keep the lockdown on the hangar tight." He calls Maris and says, "Lieutenant, belay that last order and pull back to protect Advisor Kreldin. I'll evacutate the other Imperial VIPs." Janos Audron nods his head, "If he escaped from here, he probably wont be fast enough to escape this planet with an Interdictor cruiser and a Star Destroyer at Space." his comlink beeps, "Go Ahead." he says and comlink speaks, "Most of the Tie Squadrons are scrambled Sir." His ensign says. The Lieutenant nods his head and speaks again "Do not Let, I repeat Do not Let ANY ships to escape to hyperspace Before searched from top to toe. It is same for Incoming ships too. They will be searched from top to toe." He turns to Danik, "If he will try to escape, he will fail." He says with a grin. Gas. Well, that's Lyra's cue to leave quickly. A pity she missed the parade in trying to talk some sense into Johanna. A once-over of the area and Lyra hurriedly lets herself be herded out with the rest of the crowds. Still, it occurs to her that the galaxy had gone completely and irrecoverably mad when she was asking Johanna if she was crazy. Danik nodded to the general. "Thank you, general," he said, preparing to make his exit now that he had saved themselves from certain political disaster. "Announce a planet-wide alert. Tell all the citizens of Corellia to be on the look-out for Lando Calrissian, and that all good citizens should do him harm. If they have any information regarding him, they will be rewarded fifty thousand credits," Danik said to one of his men. "He couldn't have gotten far." A repulsor vehicle was awaiting him, and he got into the backseat. He needed to relax. He really, really wanted the parade to go well. But those rebels.. they just had to constantly distrupt the order. "Take me to the starport.." On second thought, the spaceport may not be such a great idea. The ship he came in is not in his name, bu in his drivers. However, he can be sure that they are searching all of the ships. Instead, Lando opts to head to one of his safehouses on the planet to lie low and bide his time. Heading to a monorail, Lando plans his route. Garage - airspeeder - safehouse. It should work well. With most of the crowds gone, and the extra security and clean-up crew on the job, there's very little left for Smitherbodkins to do. He simply looks out over the disaster left in the wake of the parade, shaking his head and beginning the trek down to the floats to talk over the aftermath with Frederiko. A brightly-colored anti-Imperial flyer catches his eye, and he bends down to pick it up, reading it over quickly and snickering under his breath at what it says. They've misspelled 'tyranny'. How appropriate. Having made some progress to meet the troops for the gassing, she hears Morrison order her to retreat and go back to protect Danik along with cancelling the gas bombs. Oh yeah, he's going to owe her big for this one. Not surprisingly, her ability to report back to Danik was easier than trying to get out. She takes her place by the man and keeps a sharp eye out for anyone who might have any thoughts about harming him. From SW1ki, a Wikia wiki.
- There's a buzz from the crowd in the vast staging area, the excitement almost palpable as they wait for the long-awaited parade to commence. Well, it isn't really long-awaited, since Smitherbodkins never plans anything very far in advance. Perhaps this is why he is always so frazzled right before one of his famed events. But now it seems that everything has come together; or at least, it may have. Only time would tell! The air is crisp and clear, a nice change from the gray, dismal weather that had been present of late on Corellia, as though the Harvest Gods were smiling down on this festive occasion. After a moment, a somewhat tall, elegently dressed gentleman can be seen walking toward a platform with a speaker system that has been set up specifically for this occasion. He's fairly beaming; he always gets so excited when his plans come to fruition. Reaching the microphone, he pauses dramatically for a moment, then says, "People of Corellia! Ladies and gentlemen, friends, honored guests. Welcome to the opening of the Galactic Swoop League races, celebrating the Corellian Harvest Festival. This beautiful planet is rich in history and culture, and its inhabitants, as wlel as other groups and orgainzations, have come together to create a spectacular masterpiece, expressly for your enjoyment. Let the parade commence!" He smiles, stepping down from the platform and sweeping his hand toward the direction which presumeably the floats will appear from. And, after a second, they begin. It had been ages since she'd set foot in this arena. Ah, the days before motherhood, before marriage...before being lifted into the lofty ranks of diplomacy, even. Standing in the archway, Ambrosia Delgard hesitates to enter so she may soak in the atmosphere. Her escort, a tallish man of military build, flanks her left side with an alerted expression. The ranks of NR military are worn upon his shoulder, displayed in a series of patches. Amongst the crowds of the natives, visitors, and the ever popular silent brooding and never moving there stands a redheaded woman watching the proceedings. Today, Lyra's safely in the crowd, more or less just another face in the crowd, safe by virtue of unimportance from the scrtunity of Stormtroopers and other agents of the Empire. She's looking at the swoop-bikes of enthusiasts put on impromptu display, the bikes nowhere near as fine as the real racing swoops, but a sight better than what she is used to. Only when Smitherbodkins climbs up to the stage and begins speaking does she look up from some silver bike painted with mauve flames to listen to the man speak and open the ceremonies. New Republic Colonel Ikihsa Enb'Zik breathes slow and deep. He hasn't been on Corellia since it was under New Republic control unless you count numerous battles outside the atmosphere. It's different now. He hasn't seen every bit of /how/ it's different, exactly, but it just seems that way. Silently, he damns the Imperials for their destructive touch. The thought of ten-thousand recently freed slaves helps quell his moment of personal ire, though. It almost draws a smile beneath his dewflaps. Finding himself a place where he can see above the heads of taller humanoids, Enb'Zik absently runs a hand over a namepatch on his racing armor. Cian Shev. Remember that - if they ask you who you are, your name is Cian Shev. He's not here for the swoop race. The Sullustan is here as part of an exercise. He takes another breath, slow and deep. And his black eyes leave the approaching floats and instead scan the crowd for obvious signs of Imperial presence. Kintor looks around his current location, unsure of where exactly said location is. His dog is right on his heels as he walks around, hoping to find the location of the parade. He had taken special efforts to find a backpack where he could hide his weapons from last night, quite sure that armaments in a setting such as this would be far from welcome. His eyes continue to search for clues that would tell him where he is when he notices a stream of people moving in a single direction. He looks down at the dog next to him, "Might as well follow them... Let's go." The dog almost seems to nod as it follows Kintor, who in turn begins following the crowd. As he enters a new area, he hears a booming, yet familiar, voice. A brow raises and he looks for the source. Ahh.. the man from the night before. "This must be the place, Buck. Let's move forward. I wanna see this thing." He moves forward, finding a clear spot to see next to a small Sullustan. The dog moves forward into a sitting position on Kintor's other side. The man glances at the Sullustan's racing patch, reading the name 'Cian Shev' to himself, then speaks up. "You're a racer, I take it?" Although by no means an unfamiliar place, Mirhoz looks more than a bit uncomfortable standing about anywhere on Corellia, much less right in the midst of so thoroughly local a tradition as the Harvest Festival. Even retiring for the best of reasons can be looked down upon in the present political climate, and as Mirhoz had skirted the realm of betrayal itself, any planet of the Empire is by default no place for him. Still, he'd promised his daughter a firsthand account of the parade, in case any details somehow escape notice in the chaotic presentation of the holovids. And, after all, it never hurts to get some time off from the more mundane aspects of his new job, so uncomfortable as he is, Mirhoz still realizes that it's a huge step up from filing paperwork. "Let's see what you can do, Corellia", he whispers under his breath, eager for some sort of distraction from his thoughts. The first entry in the parade is an Imperial float, an homage to the planet that is hosting this glorious event. It is made up of two smaller floats travelling together. The ase of each float is decorated in Imperial symbols. Each one is covered in imagery sure to make any Imperial proud. On the front one, is an X-wing being persued by a tight formation of TIES: four black ones and a red one, clearly meant to be the infamous Black Stars. Every two minutes a firework inside the X-wing goes off, to symbolize its demise. On the second float is a giant stormtroooper, at least twice lifesize, with his foot on a fallen figure. If one looks closer, the figure is clearly a Mon Calamari, and he bears a striking resemblance to the famous and beloved Admiral Ackbar. Following the Imperial floats is the All Legion Imperial Marching Band. Men from all walks of the military, navy and ground forces alike, march down the street playing such favorite songs as the Imperial March and the Battle Hymn of the Black Stars. Many Imperials in the crowd begin to sing along or march in place as the band plays these wonderful tunes while the faces of other citizens still loyal to the New Republic turn sour. A tall figure in a loose-fitting, flowing robe of dark brown moves slowly and with deliberation through the pressing throng of festival celebrants. The face of the being is shrouded by the hood pulled well over its head. Still, if one were to look closely enough, the tips of a Hornansi's long white whiskers would be visible for inspection. Major Snal'Fashtalli Teague-Ikihsa is curious to observe today's shindig, but her goal today is to do so without drawing attention to herself. A task that can prove difficult when one happens to be nine feet tall. Towering over every humanoid present and most of the non-Human races, Snarl is careful to keep toward the back of whatever group she glides in on silent paws to join. Today, if anyone asks, she is not herself. She must become someone else. Silently, in the shadow cast by her robe's hood, the Kasa Horansi grins toothily. Unfortunately, this private mirth is short-lived as the words of a hated anthem reaches her ears. Danik Kreldin tipped his fedora a bit to get a good look at Smitherbodkins as he came to the stage. Danik had decided to stay to the back of the crowd, on a slightly elevated platform so he could see the whole event, and, of course, the onlookers. Foldings his arms across his chest, Danik locked his sights on Smitherbodkins, quietly assessing the gentleman. He was suspicious of the man, after following that Jedi Ai'kani to his estate. But his suspicions would have to wait until after the parade. He wanted it to proceed without a problem, for good reasons. As the parade began, Danik took a few steps forward, his eyes catching a NR Military patch on the shoulder of one tall man. At first Danik was rather skeptical.. it must have been a joke or something, right? "I have a suspect here.. I'll handle it," Danik said into a comlink attached to his collar to a few guards posted throughout the arena. Stepping off the platform, Danik pushed his way through the crowd towards the rebel just as the sounds of the Imperial March begin. He stopped for a few moments to take in the song and view the floats, one a homage to his old unit. Grinning, Danik continued onward, even though he just realized he forgot his blaster. Lianja had tried to show up early in order to find a good seat... It worked, just barely, but the effort the being had to put out in order to secure its seat almost isn't worth it. Standing in that long line from the morning had its eyelids threatening to shut completely. Once or twice its head drops to its chest, and then jerks back up. Unfortunately Tantai misses the speech, and the first float. It is awake for the second and dutifully claps its gloved hands in appreciation. "Perhaps Gabi would have enjoyed this." The Ambassador murmurs to her escort whilst taking her time in navigating through the crowd to find a better viewing angle. "The colors, the sounds..." "You did the right thing by leaving her to the Embassy's care, Ambassador Delgard." The man notes, eyes scanning the hands and pockets of those nearest by. "Corellia is not the safe haven it used to be." Ambrosia sighs as the first float emerges, her brow furrowing in pain at the sight of their beloved Admiral prostrate beneath the Imperial heel. "How right you are...I suppose Tivadar would have had more than a few unpleasant words for my ears if I *did* ask for our daughter's accompaniment. She's already taken her first steps, you know." She adds in an off-the-topic note with a flashing smile. The smile fades as her words are drowned out by the bleating of murderous song. Still, diplomacy is her art, and so the woman's face morphs into a neutral stare, chin lifted high with passive observance. Enb'Zik is careful to keep his features even, putting on his best Sabacc face in response to the Imperial music and floats. He'd much rather be listening to something played by Red Shift Limit. Or maybe the haunting movements of Ballifore Figg's Alderaan Star Scream. He could do without the fascist crap, but ... well, what would one /expect/ to hear at an Imperial celebration? For now, he's able to shrug it off. As a human steps up beside him and asks a question, Ikihsa turns in the man's direction. For a brief second, he thinks about pretending he doesn't speak Basic, but the idea is quickly dismissed. "I try," he shrugs, looking Kintor over. "You?" The Imperial float and, more importantly, the music, nearly brings tears to Smitherbodkins eyes. Does he really have that much of an Imperial bent? Well, he is Corellian nobility. However, the words he says as e turns to the little blue Ortolan who has appeared by his side seem to have more to do with the art than with the choice of song. "Ah, Frederiko! Do you see that young man in the second row? The trumpeter! My wife gave him his very first trumpet lessons! She was an exuisite musician." His eyes go out of focus for a moment as he gets lost in memories long past. "Little Joran...he's all grown up, now!" Moving through the crowd without a purpose, Lando Calrissian makes no attempts to be discreet. He does not don the cover of a concealing robe, but neither does he have a red pheonix emblazoned on his chest - the man is here for business, and business alone. Making sarcastic comments at the floots is only a secondary objective Moving in amongst the other characters and mostly human faces of the crowd, Calrissian stumbles upon an oddity. Gripping his small, round, black-tinted visors by their right side, he slides them down his nose for a closer inspection. New Republic Metals, most definately. Lando decides to head toward the man as well, not noting Danik has the same frame of mind. Saddling up beside the man, he puts his hand on his shoulder. Swaying from side to side, he mumbles. "Nissh parade, ishn't its?" Silently, Mirhoz shakes his head as the Imperial floats and displays filter past. What did he expect to see, after all? Even changing hands several times, Corellia is still an Imperial planet, and during wartime it's all but impossible to avoid such displays. Shaking his head again, he buries his concerns as deeply as he can manage. Imperial world or not, several of the people observing the festivities just so happen to be VIPs, and even as unlikely as a hit is in the middle of so many people, and with such heightened security as the Espo imagines must be lurking behind every corner, it's still very much his job to ensure their survival. After watching a bit of the display, however, Mirhoz turns his eyes to the crowd, and sees a familiar face trying, and doubtlessly failing to be discreet as he makes his way towards.. "So many people; just what does he see?" Although hardly his business, he watches with intent, eager to sort out just what might be going on before it ends up blowing people up in his face. Mirhoz, after all, had seen enough of that lately. Ah, the floats. Lyra watches the strange pieces of moving popular art roll down in their procession. The first one seems to be an offering to the typical Imperial crowd, posessed of a low, single brow on their forehead, male and female alike. Especially the spineless little firecracker in the X-Wing. Surely someone could have tried harder than that, couldn't they? The second float seems a bit better than the first, playing a typical sort of military anthem of some sort, and hearing a few of the veterans and off-duty soldiers around her take up the song, it reminds the swoop-girl where she is. It isn't hard to imagine how life might have been like on Corellia once, but it's a pale shadow of that now. Lyra watches the floats her usual pleasant mask reflecting her a bubbling dislike in her. But disapproval isn't illegal, is it? In the Empire, it might very well be, but hey, she's just a face in a large crowd. Kintor sets his jaw at the sound of the music now playing. He had shifted to a new neutral stance over the past week, not sure who he supported. He takes a deep sigh, trying his best to ignore the music. To the Sullustan at his side he says, "Used to be. Then got caught up in some other stuff. Now I just live day to day. No job, no loyalties." He continues standing, reaching down a hand to pat the head of the dog by his side. Morrison walks out onto the balcony overlooking the parade area. He looks over at Maris and says, "Well, this is unexpected." His voice is thick and his dark eyes scan the crowd below tentively. "These kind of events usually draw out all kinds of people, even some Rebels every now and then." He leans forward, putting his elbows on the balcony ledge. The famous Frederiko, Ortolan musician extraordinaire, stands next to Smitherbodkins, polishing an instrument slung around his neck. "Oh, you don't say! Yes, he is very good. I can tell!" Really, the trumpeter blended in with the rest of the band, and Frederiko could not very well tell who was playing what, but Frederiko was diplomatic. "If you will excuse Frederiko," the musician says, "But he has a float to climb onto!" He gives a little bow to the gentleman and trots off into the crowd. The next entry in the parade is the float of the Galactic Swoop League, without whom the event would not be nearly as grand. This float is a giant swoop with a racer perched on top of it. The racer, a human, is dressed in black leather, and looks quite daring and brave. It looks as if one of the engines has been damaged, though it is difficult to tell if this is a result of a construction mishap or from some dangerous and potentially deadly mistake the swooper has made during his race. Following out along side Morrison, Maris glances about the mass crowd that has gathered and notes the madness. Her hand immediately slides down to the butt of her weapon that rests in her holster and surveys the area the best she can. "More like chaotic. This is what nightmares are made of." She turns so her back is to Morrison, keeping guard over him during the parade. He almost didn't come, his nevers almost got the better of him. However, amongs the self debating he did back on his ship, he decided to set out and see what was happening at the parade. Walking out of his ship he steps on the monorail and watches everything go by as he heads towards the Swoop track. Zero steps off the monorail, decked out in his CSA swoop uniform. He waddles his way down the street watching some of the floats as they go by. Danik was unaware of Lando Calrissian's presence so far. His focus was still on the man with the NR patch, pushing his way through until he finally came up alongside him, opposite Lando. He did not say anything, though. He just placed his hands into his coat's pockets, continuing to watch the floats progress. The sounds of the Black Star's Hymn were dying out now, with the arrival of the GSL float, a familiar blue figure on it. Squinting, Danik tried to get a good look, then just figured it was just another Ortolan. He had more important things at hand, anyway. Coughing, Danik looked up at the taller man, offering a slight smile. "Enjoying yourself so far, sir?" Danik asked, still unaware of Lando Calrissian right near by, and unfamiliar with Ambrosia to concern himself with her. Lando's rather interesting state, as well as his obviousNew Republic paraphenalia, attracts the attention of a trio of Imperial guards, who elbow each other and begin to make their way over the the man. "Hello...what have we here?" one of them says as they come up behind him, and he taps the man on the shoulder, the other two flanking him and crossing their arms over their chests. "I don't think you want to ruin this event," he continues, eyeing the man with obvious distaste, "and you're not really dressed very well for the occasion." The other two snicker, eyeing each other knowingly. The escort stiffens, gripping Ambrosia's wrist with one hand while he narrows his eyes at the swaying...drunk? Harmless. After giving Lando a once-over, he cocks his lips into a lopsided grin. "Yeah. Quite...elaborate," then shrugs his shoulder in attempts to disengage the hand. Ambrosia cranes her neck forward with a slight lean as she is grabbed, peering around her escort to spy Lando's lingering frame. "You can let go." She says to the guard while working her wrist gently free and offering the regal-attired man a friendly nod of her head. "We've been previously aquainted. Something akin to a waltz, if I recall correctly." She's about to offer her hand, when they are joined by a small clutch of trouble. Of course. She was present. How could she expect anything differently? "And what a fine event it is, gentlemen," croons the Ambassador, raising her voice to be heard over the booming music as it passes. She turns to meet the imperial guards with wide, sparkling eyes and a smile to rival the latest dental add. "A peaceful one, where those of any affinity can come together to celebrate their heritage. *Corellian* heritage. I'm personally eager to see what sorts of foods will be offered after the parade." With a sound of a person wearing boots, a human male, which is very long enters the Staging Area. He seems to be wearing a black Imperial Uniform, the rank insignia shows that He is a Lieutenant. His long body isnt really athletic but he does seems to be fast. He seems to have Imperial Insignias at both of his sholder's outer parts. He doesnt seem to be interested at anyone, The guy is wearing only one single Medal at his chest... Zero has disconnected. Robes swirling gently around her digitigrade feet, Snarl moves to stand at the back of a smaller group of parade watchers, careful not to block anyone's view of the hideous floats. With her head well above the crowd, the Kasa has an excellent view of the crowd itself. When the light manages to filter through faintly to her feline eyes, they glow faintly red in the shadow cast by her drawn hood. As Mirhoz continues to watch, he pauses for a moment as it seems as though Danik has stopped for no reason. But as he observes with a bit more scrutiny, the Chandrilan's eyes go wide for a moment, completely shocked that anyone would dare to dress with displays of the enemy - the Republic's, Mirhoz quickly corrects his thoughts - right on their very clothes. Practical joke or otherwise, however, Mirhoz takes a particular interest in seeing that everything is under control. After all, he'd heard about incidents that start exactly like what's afoot here. Wasting no further time, the retired Captain begins to walk towards the gathering in question, shoving and apologizing his way through a crowd nearby in the process. Calrissian, through some sort of sleight of hand, slips the escort's medals down his sleeve. Thank the force for simple adhesives. He winks slightly to the man in front of him in passing, as he rotates on his heel to face the troopers. Apparently, he also took the liberty to slide his own regalia down the embroidered cuff to chase down the others. "And what a beautiful night it is, gentlemen." Tapping a finger on the breastplate of one of the troopers, he adds: "Just here to witness your event...." Pausing, he continues. "And what a sense of /pride/ you have, hmm?" The dark indigo being sways from side to side, eyes shut. It takes a deep breath, enjoying the scent of so much flesh packed in one place. It makes it giddy. Perhaps when this is over it will follow someone home. This thought widens the smile on Lianja's lips. The GSL float looks a little more interesting with the rider and the damage and all. She stands on the tips of her toes to look over the shoulders of the taller sentients around her to get a better look at it when she notices the blue form of Frederiko clambering off the stage below the level of hte crowd but apparently heading towards the float. Soon enough, he vanishes, and the swoop-girl returns to inspecting the float. Supposedly some racing damage, it looks like damage from blaster fire to her, but she might be a bit biased, she admits to herself. Lyra's watching of the float is interrupted as she witnesses another sort of Corellian gala, a more recent sort. She watches as the Imperials come out to harass people they don't like in the crowd, watching as a few of them speak to a dark-skinned human. The New Republic entry has been buried near the back, unwelcome as the New Republic is by the planet's current regime. It is amazing that it was allowed at all, but the sway of Smitherbodkins went a long way. The float is subdued, nothing like the gaudy propaganda of the Imperial submission. This is probably due to the heavy censoring of the original design by the reluctant Imperials. It is simply a Mon Calamari Star Cruiser in orbit above a watery planet. There is nary a Republic Phoenix in sight. As this float rolls past, several aliens break through the barricades seperating the viewers from the floats. "Free Corellia!" they shout, throwing fliers and buttons into the crowd. The buttons are printed with slogans like "Imperials Rule! UNJUSTLY!" and "Aliens are people too!" The fliers are full of anti-Imperial texts, with exerpts from alleged secret internal documents about the treatment of aliens and plans for Corellia and its citizens. There are also unflattering drawings of high up Imperials like Lord Korolov and Danik Kreldin. The men swarm the New Republic float, climbing up onto it and throwing things from the platform and shouting "Up with the New Republic! Down with the Empire!" as it moves slowly along. At the noisy demonstration that suddenly errupts from an unexpected quarter, Snarl blinks and her lithe body jerks slightly with the depth of her surprise. Obviously an alien herself with her outrageous height, the Kasa narrows her golden eyes and slowly casts a wary glance around herself before looking back toward the protesters. This /could/ complicate things just a little, she notes glumly to herself. For the moment, the nine foot tall Horansi remains where she is, relying on her robes to keep her 'uninteresting' to those around her as she waits to see what sort of response is made to the disturbance. As Kintor and his dog move away, Enb'Zik is somewhat relieved. It's probably best, he realizes, to speak with as few other people as he can. Make a few contacts so you don't LOOK like a loner or miscreant, but otherwise, keep to yourself. You know, fly casual. Giving the human one last glance, something out of the corner of Zik's vision catches his attention just as the ruckus begins to emerge around the erstwhile New Republic float - an incoming button with the "Aliens are people too!" slogan hits him in the chest and bounces off his armor to land at his feet. Looking down at it with a blink, he can barely contain a snort of laughter that threatens to tear itself loose from him. Then another thought crosses his mind - maybe this isn't the best place to be right now. Lowering himself briefly, he picks up the button and slips it into a slot to hide it behind his suit's padding and stands up again to consider routes of retreat if things get too out of hand. Imperial peace indeed. The NR entry draws hardly less ire from Lyra as the Imperial floats. Eyes narrow at the limp ship hovering over a watery grave. The design commits a cardinal sin for Lyra. It's boring. Boring like vid reruns of recycling program ads. Her eyes drift back wistfully to the GSL swoop, the clean lines of the bike, wondering if it was based on any particular brand or make if it was just the flight of someone's fan-- The clambering sentients on the NR float get her interest. Their antics just seem to annoy her, though. She watches the activity with a look of stark disapproval, her hands on her hips. "If you goggleheads love the Republic so much, where were you during Sullust? Or Mon Calamari? Hiding under your desks? Put that paper down and pick up a blaster, you stupid refs," Lyra mutters, mostly to herself, though the comment makes a few of the Imperials in the crowd around Lyra chuckle. The trooper blinks at the sudden disappearance of Lando's insignias, as well as those of the rather obvious guard's. He starts to say something, but just then, the outburst from the New Republic catches his attention. Oooh, look. Considerably bigger fish to fry. Turning to Danik, whom he has just noticed, he snaps to attention, and the other two flanking him give a salute, certainly looking more official. "Orders, sir?" he says, jerking his chin toward the rabble. A button catches Lianja right in the eye knocking it out of its daze. Seconds later a flier falls at its feet. Scowling, the being stoops to pick the articles up. A shrill bark of laughter escapes it as it reads the front of the flier. It lets the flier slip from its hand and flutter to the ground. The button is sent spinning into the air, end over end. The being shakes its head sadly, smoothing out its skirt. What the heck...? Danik watches as a hand reaches and slides the NR patch he was just staring at off the tall escort's shoulder. Danik resisted the urge to burst out laughing. Were they -ignoring- him? What kind of a rebel was this? Just as he was about to grab his rapier, he had some chatter on his comlink; apparently there was another suspicious guest... and right near by. He peeked behind the tall escort, seeing the two troopers that had confronted Calrissian, the man who made a vein attempt to conceal the patch on the escort. Then he did laugh, but it was not for long... partisians had broken a barricade and hijacked a float, and Danik took his attention away from Calrissian and Ambrosia's escort to watch as anti-Imperial propaganda was thrown about, including some rather unsettling images of himself. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched several stormtroopers appear on balconies above the parade, their weapons readied to deal with the trouble makers. Danik quickly intervened however, tapping his collar comlink and ordering the troopers to stop. "Let them continue. No shooting, or else. We'll deal with them once the crowd has dispersed." Danik said, his adrenaline beginning to pump as he once again directed his attention back to the escort and Calrissian, deciding to forget the subtley and just take care of them in a direct manner. He stepped in front of the three (Lando, Ambrosia and the escort), folding his arms across his chest as he stared into Calrissian's eyes. "Nice to see you here, Calrissian," he said as one of the pictures of himself fell atop his fedora. Grabbing the paper, he crumbled it up and threw it to the floor, a slight frown forming. He acknowledged the trooper talking to him.. "Ignore the floats.. this is is Lando Calrissian, after all. So what brings you here, Calrissian? Rather foolhardy, no?" Danik asked, rubbing his chin. "Are you responsible for this mayhem?" he asked, pointing towards the float with the trouble makers. Oh, dear. A terse frown forms over Ambrosia's lips as she watches the shower of pins and fliers. These men would probably not be sleeping in their own beds tonight. A button clasped to a drawing of Lord Korolov with a leech-like mouth and worm-like torso comes close to plunking her on the head. With a cat-like motion, she snatches the paraphenalia from the air and daintily unfolds the paper to study the poorly constructed image. Her brows dually arch with mild amusement before she tunes back into the transpiring tension before her. "Excuse me, sir." She interrupts and extends the flier/button to Danik, reaching just past Lando's side. "I would dispose of it myself, but I don't see an appropriate receptacle nearby. Perhaps you're more aware of the surroundings?" The young Imperial Lieutenant Janos Audron looks at the protesting group, he shakes his head and mumbles, "They are lucky I am not in charge of the security of here..." he shakes his head. He silently starts to walk twards Danik and Lando. He whispers to his comlink. "Try to learn where their base is." he than turns to move so he can greet Admiral, "Interesting isnt it? They still belive the puny Rebel Alliance to come to save them." he says himself and shakes his head. He turns to Danik and salutes him. His medal shakes as he salutes Danik... "Greetings Sir." Catching a flier thrown his way, Lando nods slightly with clenched lips. A slight smile arches over his face as he says. "Well, Danik, I never knew you had such an affinity for ladies underwear." Not all of the pictures were vile - some were rather humorous. "In any case, I'm just here enjoying the sights as an Independent citizen. Nothing more." Some twenty meters, and perhaps ten quick apologies later, Mirhoz finds himself nearby. With his uniform still on, and his face very visible, he makes no real effort at concealment in his approach - after all, just what good would it really do if he did, even amongst the fairly crowded turnout? Still, though, he can't but help finding himself hanging back just a bit. Not even in his more youthful years had Mirhoz considered rushing into potential danger a sound idea, and up until lately, he hadn't even been in any real danger at all. Though by no means ready, he keeps his hands very near his weapons, just in case he's forced to intervene. As the trouble breaks out, however, the Chandrilan finds himself to be in a rather awkward position. Calling any of his men from their existing duties without serving a purpose is squandering Authority resources - even if it meant to help maintain order in a friendly state, such as the Empire. At the very least, Mirhoz feels as though he should warn them to be ready, just in case trouble begins. Reaching towards his comlink, he quickly prepares mentally what he'll say, going over the proper procedures and explanation fo- "Blast!" he exclaims, his hand having come up empty, "I must've left it behind." The New Republic float comes to a halt as the invaders swarm upon it, hooting and hollering and continuing to throw things into the crowd. It is clear that the driver inside is not exactly sure what to do. Some members of the assembled audience cheer or laugh, while others look quite angry, as if they are about to take matters into their hands. Eyes turn towards the stormtroopers as they appear on the balconies, some of the sentients ducking for cover or shielding their children from the potential outbreak of fire. But none comes. Not from the stormtroopers, anyway! Many of the revelers were quite drunk, and do not appreciate the good name of the Empire being besmirched by hooligans. A group of rowdy citizens breaks through the barricades and rushes the New Republic float, grabbing the aliens off of it and beginning to pummel them. "Occifer! I caught one!" they yell to the stormtroopers. Meanwhile, the rest of the floats begin to back up behind the stopped New Republic float. Frederiko's blue head peeks out from behind a sheaf of Corellian wheat, wondering what the holdup is. He waves his arms, signalling to the driver of the New Republic float to hurry up. A unsteady palanquin born on the shoulders of four skinny droids teeters its way around the corner, nearly stepping into the thoroughfare in front of the parade. The droids take up a nervous sort of trot-in-place, attempting to keep the palanquin level above their shoulders without moving into the parade and without backing up. The carriage itself is deep purple, royal, and gilded with intricate flower designs. A gauzy white curtain separates the occupant of the cabin from the rest of the world. But not for long. The curtain is thrown aside by a tiny Toydarian who sits propped up on pillows inside, wearing a snarl on his elephantine face. "What's the holdup!" Qwynt demands of the droids, before shooting an impatient yellow glance into the street. He points ahead with his folded fan and orders them ahead. "Go, go! I don't have all day. Idiots!" He snaps the curtain back in place and the droids, unsure of what to do, maneuver unsteadily around the street barriers into the parade behind Frederiko's float. Kintor slowly begins to move away from the Sullustan, mostly moving with the crowd. Luckily, the dog at his side is able to stay with him; not that it mattered. A mere whistle and the dog would find his way to the almost-human Kintor. As he walks, he continues to watch the floats, and as certain members of Corellian society break cover and spread their anti-Imperial propoganda, a small smile spreads across the man's face. When another group proceeds to attack the aliens, Kintor ponders joining the fight, just for the hell of it. He decides against it, and continues on his way. Stepping through a small crowd of people, he finds himself among an odd group, and comes to a stop. There is a somewhat tall dark skinned man being held by several Imperial marines. He identifies Kreldin among them, and decides to watch, wanting to witness what unfolds. Close enough to catch snipits of conversation with her acute hearing, but not close enough to really draw attention, the robed and hooded Kasa Horansi known to many as Snarl monitors the situation with Lando Calrissian. She hadn't known he would be here today, but... well, he DID show up easily identifiable to anyone who'd ever seen even a picture of his likeness. Not that she can really do anything to help him at the moment, but she will at least stick close enough to keep up with what is happening to him. It's difficult to focus solely on this potential crisis though, with all the broo-ha-ha going on with the New Republic's float. The Kasa recoils slightly when a flying button hits her squarely in the stomach and then bounces off to fall to the littered ground below. Lowering her gaze for a moment, Snarl is treated to a view of several fliers. Caught in an unguarded moment, she utters a brief but loud guffaw at the image of Danik portrayed on one of the sheets near her paws. Her mirth is quickly brought under control, however, when fighting noisily breaks out on and near the NR float. She grimaces and shakes her hooded head slightly. At first, the outbreak of New Republic zealots seems to amuse Smitehrbodkins to no end. He begins to laugh, slapping his knee as he watches the faces of the spectators, both the cheering ones and the angered ones. He certainly had not expected anything of this sort to happen! But then, the beatings begin, and this is somewhat less acceptable to him. No one was going to ruin his event! Not even loyal Imperial citizens! "Guards!" he calls out, signalling to a small group of stormtroopers who stand there gaping instead of helping, "Stop this at once!" He desends quickly from the stage, stricing toward an official-looking man and whispering something into his ear. The man nods, beginning to talk into his comlink. Within moments, the eager vigilantes have begun to be surrounded by both Imperial security and uniformed men ot the Galactic Swoop league. Turning around now, Enb'Zik decides to make good on his decision to retreat. A parade is a parade, he's come in, nobody has recognized him, let's not push our luck. We can do that tomorrow during the swoop race. For now, Ikihsa will be one of those backing away under the threat of those armed Stormtroopers up in the balconies. As he moves, a familiar voice -- no, several familiar voices -- turn the Sullustan's head to his right. Immediately he recognizes one of the faces, but the other one. Zik's eyes narrow thoughtfully as they settle on Danik Kreldin. Frowning, he turns back to the issue at hand, and getting himself to the back of the throng, he stops to reconnoiter his surroundings. Those overhanging parts in the viewing stands would offer the best view, but that would also be far too conspicuous. Repair shops ... plasteel ... bay doors ... he shakes his head, then finally spots something that will work. Heading toward a group of shipping crates marked FLS, Enb'Zik climbs one of the shorter ones for a better view. Hunkering down there in a place he can legitimately say he belongs, the disguised Sullustan is not aware that some fifty meters away, his wife is doing the same thing. "Calrissian," he murmurs very, very quietly to himself, "be careful." The lithe figure of an impeccably dressed woman enters the Swoop Arena with barely a second glance. Conforming to the starkness of Imperial dresscode, she is asked no questions by any of the surrounding Stormtroopers. Simply smiling to herself as ice-blue eyes scan the area. It seemed that she had come at a somewhat inappropriate time judging by the current state Security seemed to be in. Nevertheless, she continued forwards and before long spied a familiar face. "Krelden." The woman says in a distinctly low voice, moving toward him as she does so. With the pace of the event begin to get faster and faster she couldn't help but laugh. Paris was beginning to think that whomever was playing host, was most probably regreting it. Which reminded her - who exactly was playing host? It was by chance that she arrived today and had not expected such a large event to be taking place. Quite unexpectantly her eyes fall upon another familiar face, though one that seemed markedly different to her. Her eyes narrowed slightly as she studied the moving Sullustan. "I will be back shortly. I just spotted an ex-employee of mine. Y'know, from my KDY days..." She trails off, walking towards the recently-spotted Sullustan as she does so. "I hadn't expected you to be here." She utters, her voice barely above a whisper. Danik looks hard at Ambrosia, unsure who she was. He wasn't too familiar with republic politicians. He took the garbage from her hand and crumbled it up, throwing it on the ground like the previous one. "Nice company you have, dear," Danik said, looking between Calrissian and the escort, but directing it to Ambrosia. But things were growing too far out of hand to deal with his old friend Lando, or the female and her escort. And now Baedan Mirhoz had appeared, approaching him and his company. Danik had lost his respect for Mirhoz when he turned in his resignation during the Battle of Sullust. He didn't want to associate himself with the man, and even if he wanted to, the float had now been ambushed by pro-Imperial forces, and the com chatter was growing heavy. He had no time for this, or Mirhoz. "Troopers, make sure these three don't leave your sight.." he said, pointing at the troopers who had confronted Calrissian earlier. "I shall be right back." He barely heard Paris call him, and he didn't have time to acknowledge Janos, but he did give Paris a quick glance in his hasty retreat to where Smitherbodkins was, watching as she approached a Sullustan. She looked familiar..somewhat. Wasn't she on Chandrila with him during the campaign? Well, no time to dwell on it now. The parade was crumbling around him. The aging Kreldin took speed, pushing his way through the crowd to the stage where Smitherbodkins was. The stormtroopers he was ordering around merely ignored the nobleman, not recognizing his authority, still adhering to Kreldin's orders to stand down. He saw Smitherbodkins yelling at a few people, trying to salvage the situation as well. Kreldin marched towards the man, almost ready to throw a punch. His trust in the man was already low due to his possible connection with the Jedi, and now this.. he was certain he was responsible. He tapped his comlink once more, and gave the orders to move in to pacify the area. As Kreldin put the order in, he rapidly approached Smitherbodkins. "You! Who authorized a rebel float in this parade? Was it you?" Danik shouted, trying to grab Smitherbodkins by his collar. For what it's worth, Lyra found herself getting a little bored. The floats were pretty neat, but the scuffling was in a sad state. Gangwars on Nar Shaddaa were a lot more interesting. Still, she hasn't learned boorish manners sufficently well enough to fake a yawn or anything like that. Now, if someone started shooting...it would be a disaster. Okay, maybe not. With a forlorn expression, the redhead resigns the event to one of those things that were a good idea at the time, until she sees Danik confronting Smitherbodkins. Now that ought to be interesting as she begins to push through the crowd to get a better look at the looming confrontation between Danik and the gambler. Clearly it had been too long since her face had last been spread over the holovids. Not since the CDU / NR peace pact, at any rate. Thankful for this apparent lack of notoriety (at least in the shadow of Lando Calrissian), Ambrosia stares after the retreating man in the fedora blankly. After a moment of two of having been left in the troopers' care, she exchanges a glance with her escort, then bends to pluck the trash from the ground where Danik had so carelessly misplaced them. Gathering them delicately into one hand, she straightens out and offers them next to one of the troopers with the same, expectant expression of an innocent child. "With pride and ownership comes responsibility in maintaining the cleanliness of one's estate." She declares, and waits for a moment before wisely adding "Or you can point me to the nearest receptacle and I'll do it myself." Lando rocks back and forth on his feet, arms impatiently folded behind his back. "Seems as if Danik's linegerie is twisted a bit to tight, doesn't it?" he says to no-one in particular. Looking over at the Stormtroopers with fingers rubbing his chin slowly, he cocks his head to the side and narrows his eyes at the trooper on the left. The arms that are folded stiffly behind his back creep down to his belt-line and feel the secure lump that is his hand-cannon. "So, how's the guard life treating you two?" Nodding with satisfaction at how the guard had handled the outburst, Smitherbodkins claps him on the shoulder, beginning to turn back toward the parade to make sure that no more little mishaps decided to take place. However, it seems that there's a mishap taking place right there, as he is accosted by an irate Danik Kreldin. He's taken completely by surprise at this treatment, so much so that he just stands there gaping for a moment. Didn't this man know who he -was-? "Get your hands off me, you brute!" he finally manages to say, attempting to push the man backward, his face twisting with rage, "Of course I authorized it! Have you gone mad? How was I supposed to know that this was to happen? The Empire was supposed to provide guards for just such occurances! I cannot do everything, you know!" He brandishes his cane at the man, "What are you doing just standing around here? I am trying to salvage this event, and you either stand their gawking or start harassing the wrong person!" The young Imperial Lieutenant talks to his comlink, "We need reinforcements. Repeat we need reinforcements. This place is going crazy." he shakes his head. He runs after Danik to protect him if he can. He runs to two random stormies on the way which are looking around for what to do, "You two. Go and cover Admiral. Protect him with your lives!" he commands and the two stormies rush with him twards danik to protect him from danger... Corellia. Again. Normally a visit to the vicinity of RASA would be a cause for celebration. It *was* one, in the old days at least, though Johanna can't entirely figure out why she's come here. In fact, she's more than a little disoriented and gets lost three times on her way to the large street where the parade is being held, right in front of the track. She finally finds the place and stumbles around a bit, bumping into beings in the throng assembled to see the parade (and the scandalous Republic float on an Imperial world). Wow. Clearly someone had paid or killed off the right people to get THAT entry in. "Out of my way," the pilot snaps at a young mother and her child, the strange gait of her uneven walk bringing her more to the right than she'd like as she mutters to herself about the audacity of brats these days and pauses for a course correction of sorts. Looks like she's arrived just in time for the fireworks. The kind pertaining to interactions between beings, not the pretty colors that go boom in the sky. Oh great. Drama at the party. Didn't they just have this show back at Smitherbodkins' estate? Speaking of Smitherbodkins... with a sigh, Johanna pushes further back, in no mood to become embroiled in any explosions or shenanigans today. Hopefully nobody will try and steal anything. Or bother her. Yes, especially not her. Slowly, heeding the demands of the Ortolan waving his arms, the New Republic float begins to limp forward, leaving the brawl behind it. Thankfully, the security that Danik has called in swoops in and begins to dissipate the fray. While the drunken Imperial citizens are pulled off the aliens and sent on their merry way without consequence, the rebels are dragged off out of sight by the Imperial forces. Left in their wake is a fluttering pile of anti-Imperial propaganda being blown into the crowd and littering the street. The final float, the one signifying the Corellian Harvest festival and the one that Frederiko is riding on begins to inch forward to fill the void left now that the New Republic float has moved on and the brawl has been dissipated. However, the float encounters a new problem: Qwynt's palnquin seems to have wandered onto the route and is in the way. A honk honk noise comes from within the float, directing the droids to move along. Again, Frederiko's head peeks out to see what the problem is. Sigh. Smitherbodkin's events seem to be plagued by fights... Lianja sighs loudly, as it draws it smoothes its skirt out. Time to leave, yes. The being places a polite smile on its face, parting the crowd with polite words and well placed shoves. For a moment, Mirhoz looks completely baffled once more as he watches Danik simply leave the situation at hand, and move off elsewhere. Surely, by all logic, it would be absolutely unfeasible for the aging military advisor to take on every last aspect of Imperial control, and carry the responsibility as his own. Yet, as far as Mirhoz could tell, that is indeed what is happening, leaving only a pair, or perhaps a trio should the Chandrilan's view be at all impaired, of soldiers to guard the group. Despite the inherent danger, Mirhoz steps forward towards the gathering, feeling that this may be the safest chance to approach yet available. "What seems to be the matter here?", Mirhoz loudly inquires to the soldiers Danik has left behind, pretending for the moment that he has no idea of what's going on. After all, to some extent, that's very true, as for instance at no point in his career in the Imperial Navy had Mirhoz had to know what Lando Calrissian looks like, although the name, said aloud, would be very familiar to him. Taking a quick glance towards the rioting elsewhere, and the order coming in from Janos, Mirhoz adds: "Please, allow me to watch over them as you go handle those miscreants." Ikihsa Enb'Zik would leave if it weren't for the fact that he /needs/ to know what's about to happen with Calrissian. Frankly, however, he would be a lot more comfortable if one of his more human crew members were here to keep an eye on things. They tend to draw less attention to themselves in a crowd than Sullustans do. Still, there's always the Seen Em All rule, and thank the Maker for that. His brow is thoroughly furrowed with thought for several seconds before he remembers that if he doesn't calm down, he's going to get more attention than he wants. Which is none. A feminine figure approaches the small group he's watching, and he quickly recognizes the woman as Paris. And then she seems to recognize him. "Oh, not good," he murmurs as she turns to approach. It is apparent, however, that no amount of his chagrin is going to change her course. When she reaches him, Enb'Zik is forced to climb down from his perch, losing sight of Lando but with luck, getting out of sight of anyone that might notice him talking with Paris. "I'm /not/ here," he responds to her, his voice as quiet as hers as he points at the name patch on his swoop gear. Still silent and as inconspicuous as it is possible for a nine foot being to be in a public place teeming with short people, Snarl observes Lando and his party with an aire of mild curiousity. The Kasa Horansi is aware of several things in addition to the small group she is keeping tabs on. The New Republic float is finally on the move, but there's /still/ a disturbance over there of a different sort now. From beneath her hood, the feline's golden eyes have also discovered the presence of a few familiar faces. Her gaze rests only briefly on a particular Sullustan and a Human standing near him toward the back of the crowds before shifting yet again. She needs to keep tabs on Lando. Zik will have to take care of himself for the moment. The dark uniformed Imperial Lieutenant shakes his head, He turns to Mirhoz and speaks in a diplomatic tone. "This is already out of hand. Return to your place Captain." he says his rank... "Reinforcements are already under way." Joining the mass crowd of confusion, Maris moves as she scans the area for an Imperial Officer with some rank or at least one who would know exactly what's going on. Spotting and hearing Janos, she decides to head in his direction, even pushing people out of her way if necessary to make it over to him. "It's okay, Zik, they don't recognise me either...or at least they don't -know- who I am." She moves slightly closer to him, lowering her voice as she does so. "What's best is that we keep up the pretence of mildly knowing eachother. I told Kredlen you are an ex-KDY employee...Don't worry, either, he didn't seem too interested." She said, giving a small smile. "What's the matter?" She asked, looking around her. It looked like things were getting sort of crazy and it didn't take long for her to spy Lando and a suspiciously tall figure close by. "Lando." She says simply, her voice barely audible. She made certain not to give both the figures anymore than the quickest of glimpses. Maybe she could help? But she didn't know how. Best that she didn't get too involved as it was hardly the intelligent thing to do. "I am going to go find our host. Will you be okay here?" She asks simply, though she barely waits for an answer as she disappears into the crowd, eyes scanning for whomever looks the most horrified. It doesn't take her long to spy Smitherbodkins. His face was completely unfamiliar to her, which was strange, as she knew most high-ranking Imperials. Which of course meant that he probably wasn't an Imperial at all. She moved toward him silently, "My oh my, things are getting crazy aren't they?" She laughs as she adresses the man. "Yes, and they're right here!", Mirhoz lies.. or explains via half-truth, perhaps, depending on how the next few moments unfold. Of course, that would render Baeden as the kind of reinforcements that Lieutenant Audron would much rather not see. Taking hold of his blaster, but not yet removing it from the holster by any means, Mirhoz turns to the as-yet unknown figure of Lando to speak. "This man assaulted me just yesterday on Etti IV, and I'm taking him and his accomplices in for questioning, Lieutenant. Go and see to your duties, my case against them takes precedence." But then, after all, Mirhoz really does lie from time to time. Choosing this slightly more opportune moment to make his getaway, Lando issues a curt bow as he turns on his heel. Straightening his outfit and repositioning his visor, the man nods, adds a stiff "Well, I must be leaving..." and begins to attempt to stroll up and out of the arena proper. About four steps away, Lando hears Mirhoz speaking of him. Cursing under his breath he takes a deep breath. However, he decides that it would be in his best interest to try and continue walking. Perhaps an option to get out of the area with a quicker pace would present itself. Since her encounter with Vadim, Imperials not of his ability just don't seem to faze her the way they used to. Certainly not when she could kill them from a distance. There was a time not long ago when Johanna would have endeavored to disguise herself upon entering Imperial territory, but it seems that time has passed and she plants an unfriendly elbow into an adolescent Sullustan's side, shoving him away in a most unbecoming manner. What the kark is WRONG with everyone today? Can't they see she needs to get through, to put rows of beings between the street and her? Good Maker. Wait... is that Lando? No, it can't be. It just can't be. Impossible. Hadn't she rescued him from Eson's group fairly recently? What's he doing in Imperial space? Maybe he's hankering for an arrest, or maybe an execution! Who knows. She had heard rumors flying about during the duration of Han's internment in Imperial prisons, and the adventures of Leia as she searched for her missing husband. Perhaps Lando is simply nostalgic for the good old days. Danik calmed down, closing his eyes and taking in a deep breath, taking a few steps back from Smitherbodkins. "We did provide security. -You- failed to tell us that you were allowing such trash to be present in your parade. We weren't expecting it!" Danik said, watching as the Imperial stormtroopers finished rounding up the pro-rebellion civilians, only to see yet another problem occur, in the form of a creature that was unknown to Kreldin, causing a stall in the parade. "Get that creature off the road!" Danik shouted to a few available troopers, turning away from the stuck up noble and pointing at the palnquin, watching the same Ortolan peek its head out of the float. Sighing, Danik once again looked back at the nobleman as Janos arrived with a few extra troops...the same troops who were defending Lando. "Lieutenant? Who is watching over Calrissian and those two others...?" he asked, frowning deeply at the lieutenant. This was a disaster! Watching Lando attempt to extricate himself from his predicament, Snarl heartily wishes she could offer him some sort of assistance. As it is now, all she can do is continue to monitor his situation and hope for the best. Maybe another fight will break out closeby or something. Smothering a sigh, the Horansi executes a quick scan of her surroundings and comes up with yet another surprise. She blinks and stares at the Jedi woman elbowing her way through the crowd with all the delicacy and manners of a bull in a china shop. What is Johanna doing here? Golden eyes quickly shift back toward Lando and the small group with him. The Young lieutenant Janos Audron shakes his head to Danik, "These are not the ones you left Sir." He turns to Mirhoz. "Indeed? I will take care of it when I am finished with you. You are trying to decept me So you can assassinate Admiral?" he keeps in front of Danik, the troopers raise their weapons to Mirhoz "I think not. Troopers Stun him." he orders to troopers calmly as he blocks path to Danik from Mirhoz... About the time Lyra gets closer to the front of the crowd, she notices that whatever brewing confrontation between Danik and Smitherbodkins had abruptly gone as flat old Corellian beer, the Imperial apparently getting a handle on the situation and more of his stooges arriving all the time. Perhaps he didn't assert authority with the air of a vengeful Maker standing in judgement, but he was sending his people running to and fro, including some unhappy words to one his cronies. She glances over to see what exactly the commotion is about, eyes passing over a some suspiciously hooded hugely tall sentient towering over the crowd but moving as if it thought it was inconspicious, that same dark-complexioned fellow from earlier, and Johanna. Er, wait. Johanna? The swoop-girl does indeed notice the Jedi and begins to make her way through the crowd towards the Tatooine native to talk to her when she notices Johanna shoving some child out of her way. That was rather un-Johanna-like. Perhaps she'd finally gotten pickpocketed or something and seen the light. Lyra doesn't call out to the woman until she's near enough so that she doesn't have to shout like some simpleton, though. "Johanna, what are you doing here?" Oh, this could not POSSIBLY be going worse. In a span off less than a minute, Paris has spotted him, drawn Imperial attention to him - Danik Kreldin's attention, no less! - spoken his name, and left again. Unbelievable. Suddenly cross, Enb'Zik makes a point of speaking with Paris later on in this mess. If he'd had half an opportunity before she walked away, he would have sternly entreated her to keep her distance. As it is, his cover story - AND his false identification - have absolutely zero background with KDY-SFS. The Sullustan reflects that he may not have ever seen a mission go this bad this quickly. The only good thing about this is that the Imperials are too busy with everything else that's taking place to have really paid any attention to anything Paris told them. Still, if Danik sits down and actually thinks about all this ... it might be better to have his team off the planet before that can happen. DAMN IT, Zik swears mentally. Blowing a breath out through his nostrils, Enb'Zik turns away from the shipping crates and pauses. Pulling a micro-sized datapad from a pocket behind one of the armor cells in his racing suit, he quickly scribbles notes onto its screen and presses the send key. Seconds later, a similar device on Paris' person vibrates, then beeps twice very quietly, indicating an urgent message. As Danik steps out of Smitherbodkins' personal space, the gentlemen seems to relax as well, if only slightly. Thumping the end of his cane on the ground, his tone is awash with anger as he says, "I -did- tell you! What do you take me for??" It had been expressly noted in the list that he had sent them four days ago. That was why the float was so heavily censored, after all. Or wait, did he? J'Eeves was supposed to take care of that...well, there's no use backing down now. "If you cannot do your job, sir, I cannot be held accountable for it!" Paris' arrival near the two gentlemen catches Smitherbodkins' attention, and, now that he is not being manhandled, he can respond to it, though he does seem a bit distracted. Understandably so. "They certainly are, my lady!" he agrees, his gaze flicking from Danik to the turmoil down near the floats, "I hope that our friends will soon have it under control!" He shakes his head, eyeing the Imperial pointedly. A strangled sort of sound procures from Ambrosia's throat as the newly arrived man (Mirhoz) names her as the commiter of a crime she'd no knowledge of. Turning 'round to look at him with bewhildered eyes of accusation, she spies Lando's attempts at making a smooth getaway. A smooth getaway that left her here, of course. Feeling the reassuring weight of her escort's hand on her shoulder, she sends a spiteful glare towards the back of Calrissian's head, then clears her throat sharply. "Actually, officers, I'm equally curious as to what precisely is afoot here. If you think my friends and I to be in affiliation with any trouble of sorts here, you could not be further from the truth. The Corellian Festival is an open event for those who wish to remember their roots." Planting herself before Mirhoz specifically, she arches a brow. "If there has been a new definition given to the terms 'open event' I can assure you that I missed the memo. I am an exhausted mother of a flighty fourteen month old, sir, hoping to escape the dreary hub-ub of office work to show my support to the Corellians at this event in my husband's place. I am sincere when I state that I've no energy left within me to attempt any sort of ruckuss, so clearly you've our intentions confused. Now if you will excuse me, I've need to tend the ladies' room." Offering a curt smile in her self-granted departure, the Ambassador turns on a smart heel with a gesture to her personal guard and begins to take a few testing steps away, craning her neck in efforts to search the crowd. And she could not have done so at a better time, for the moment she turns away, the orders buzz into the helmets of the troops stationed to watch her. Finally having made her way over to Janos and now Danik, Maris approaches both and states, "2nd Lt Maris Becton Chief of Security for the ICC Dauntless. What is the current situation and how can I be of service to you?" Her eyes shift between Janos and Danik, awaiting for the information and then adds, "Brigadier General Morrison Van Sen is on his way and will be here shortly." "I said hold! Or do you not value your life?!" Mirhoz cries at Lando, hoping to get him to stop before the notoriously trigger-happy Imperials attempts to order anything rash. After all, Mirhoz had to believe that offering a life and perhaps a short prison term is vastly superior to the death that awaits the small group should they either try to fight their way out, or even stand still and later be executed as scapegoats for the rioting. Although he's by no means certain that he can manage this without the troopers or any Imperial officers that have attended the parade noticing, at the very least, the Espo has to give it a try. Only, just as he's started to move in pursuit of Lando, he will soon be no doubt cut down by stun blasts from all around him. Assuming the orders of the Lieutenant are carried out. As a matter of good taste, and practice from his dear wife on Chandrila, Mirhoz finds that he hardly hears Ambrosia at all, and as such makes no real effort to change his course at this point. Seeing that the droids are not moving along, and continue to block the parade route, Frederiko heaves an angry sigh and climbs down off the float. "Excuse me! Excuse me!" he says as he approaches the small group carrying Qwynt. "Please move along! You are in the way! Can't you see we are trying to have a parade here?" He waves his jizzaphone at all the floats and band and dancing Twi'lek drifting down the street and out of sight along the route. "You are holding us up! GO GO!" he yells, shooing the droids out of the way before turning and going back to the final float. The look Johanna shoots Lyra isn't meant to be nice. "What business is it of yours?" she snaps, irritable for a moment before she composes herself and regards the other woman with a predatory appreciativeness, "I came here to watch the parade. There's little in the galaxy that can hold my attetion any longer. Surely you know how that is." Of course she does, she's Lyra. With a sniff of disdain Johanna pulls her duster tighter around herself, determined to keep her secret just that. Unless, of course, someone tries something stupid, like mug her, in which case she'll be forced to kill them and leave the body for the cleanup crews. "I cannot abide a ruckus." What? Hello? Project much, Johanna? She is, after all, the master of causing insane situations that usually involve a homicidal astromech by the name of Cricket and someone being set on fire and spaced. Luckily for Calrissian, the crowd of Imperial citizens is very close. Any firefight would result in drastic civilian casualties. Sliding in between a pair of raucously chatty middle-aged men, Calrissian is soon just part of the crowd. He quickens his pace, hoping to shake off any tails in the crowd. As an added precaution, Lando's hand slides the weapon around to the front of his body - still concealed. How successful he will be in any firefight or avoision situation, however, remains to be seen. Paris smiles to Smitherbodkins, thought inwardly she was thinking the word 'friends' was a little innapropriate. What didn't make sense to her was the uproar taking place. This planet had been either Neutral or New Republic for so long that she couldn't really fathom the Corellian's laying down and conforming to Imperial rule. But then again, this Galaxy was starting to become a stranger and stranger place. What, with the Imperial and NR playing Musical planets. Most of the time she hardly knew who owned what these days. "Well, at least the floats look good." She replied, "Though, perhaps the reason this happened was because of the float's subject matter." Paris said, with a small wink, "The StarCruiser is an image of war, and probably wasn' the best choice in Imperial-occupied territory - giving the Imperial's patriotism." Again she smiled, before a small beep began to emit from within her purse. "Excuse me." She said, distancing herself from the rest of the party. As she read the transmission the smile seemed to drop from her face - if only slightly. "Okay." She whispered to herself. It seemed she had made a bit of an error coming to the party, but leaving would only be suspicious, so she turned back to Smitherbodkins. Smiling slightly she asked, "I'm Paris Sieara, by the way. Pleasure to meet you." The woman grinned. The large Imperial General makes his presence known by flattening several onlookers as he moves on Maris' signal. Looking like a skyscraper amongst most of the gathered humans, Morrison is given passage by most of the other parade watchers as he approaches. He talks into his comlink as he moves. Lyra pauses for a moment and seems nonplussed at Johanna's attitude towards her. Not that Lyra wasn't used to threats and feigned hostility and so on from people she associated with. That's all gangs were half of the time. It just wasn't something she expected from the woman from Tatooine. "Just curious," the swoop-girl replies with the barest of shrugs, glancing over at where all sorts of people seem to suddenly be finding better things to do than stand around and be seen by Stormtroopers and similar thugs. "Parade wasn't bad, first Imperial Float was as bad as a dead Bantha, though. They should shoot whoever made that one," Lyra replies casually, as if the troops and public safety officers running to and fro around her were some everyday occurance and meant nothing to her. Or if she were bored of them and dismissed them from her mind. "Some stupid refs started throwing buttons and flies everywhere and started this when the Republic float came out," she says, jerking a thumb over her shoulder at where the 'subdued' float is still in sight barely. "But listen, I need to talk to you about something...like when you have time, Johanna. It's about Radke..." she says, her flightly gang-girl mannerisms gone in a moment as her voice drops and becomes more serious. Several Imperial troopers assist Frederiko in his attempts to shoo Qwynt and his group off the parade, using the threat of their ST-Is to make them do it faster. Once the path was clear, the troopers stepped out of the way and waved towards the blue Ortolan, telling him to continue the parade, even though things were still a bit hetic. The other troopers were still mopping up what was left of the rebels, slapping cuffs on those they could contain. As per Danik's orders, not a single shot was fired, contrary to usual Imperial policy regarding such matters.. The two other stormtroopers, however, had heard an order over their comlinks to take down Mirhoz. With all the confusion, they had no idea what to do.. they just raised their ST-Is, already set to stun, and fired off a shot at the former officer. Danik, on the other hand, was still dealing with the stuck-up nobleman, who had now been joined by Paris. As she introduced herself, he remembered her; the former CEO of KDYSFS, and the lady who was on the ground during the siege of the Chandrilian prison. What did happen to her... well, that was for another time. Smitherbodkins had his blood boiling. "No, we -weren't- notified, otherwise we wouldn't have allowed it at all. Things are beginning to calm down fortunately.." Danik said, sighing as he watched the last of the troopers clear the parade route of the struggling rebels. What would happen to them was unknown to Danik..shipped off to who knows where. He had no hand in that matter, nor did he care. They deserved their fate. "I'll be speaking with you after this parade is over, sir.." Danik said, pointing a finger at Smitherbodkins before turning about. Clearing her throat, rather loudly, Maris looks between Janos and Danik as she states, "2nd Lt Maris Becton Chief of Security for the ICC Dauntless. What is the current situation and how can I be of service to you?" Her eyes shift between Janos and Danik, awaiting for the information and then adds, "Brigadier General Morrison Van Sen is on his way and will be here shortly." Radke. The name is enough to drive Johanna to distraction, the horrific and confusing memories it dredges up leaving her visibly shaken as she gazes at Lyra. "What about her," the pilot demands, an eerie light springing to life behind her dark eyes, "Is she here?" She moves fractionally closer to the gang-girl and supresses the urge to bare her teeth in a gesture of aggression. "Who have you been talking to about me, Lyra-child?" What?! Okay! Now she's paranoid, clearly. She stares at the redhead a while before scooting back a step, corners of her mouth turned down. "You and your half-there garbage, Lyra. Always coming at everyone only half there and only half engaged. How does it feel to go through life like that? Have you ever though of making the galaxy a better place and just standing in front of a hovertrain?" Nobody asked you for an insane lecture, Johanna. Try to remember that part because it's sort of important. Against her better judgment, she delivers a mighty kick to a fellow who brushed against her trying to get past to his wife. Morrison moves along the throngs of party goers until he comes up alongside Maris. He places a hand on the officer's shoulder and says, "Corsec will hear from me about this. This is the worst crowd control I've ever seen." The large general pulls his jacket open and checks the weapons at his side. "We should Id the Imperial VIPs around here in case this thing gets out of hand." He looks at the parade floats and asks Maris to point out the rebel float if she can find it. Two Blue rings gets out of the Trooper's blasters and they move slowly and hits Mirhoz. The young Imperial Lieutenant sighs, "It was what I had to do..." he feels sadness that he ordered that but he gets back to himself again. He turns to Maris, "Good. Reinforcements. Lieutenant, take Captain Mirhoz to care. I am still not sure what he was trying to do." He turns to Danik. "I am sorry Sir. He was acting oddly, I wasnt sure of his intention. Thats why I ordered him to be stunned." he sighs... With a flick of her wrist, Ambrosia dislodges her comlink from her belt and speaks with hurried monotone. "C-41...C4 listen up. I want you to hail a shuttle. I then want you to send a message to the Minister of State, regarding the festivities. I uh...I might be late returning. Something came up. Then I want you to contact President Elana Tracer. Inform her that I may be out of touch for a brief while, depending on how these 'festivities' pan out, in case she wishes to proceed with our meeting." There's a pause as the familiar sound of 'clack-a-clack' of wielded weaponry resounds a few meters behind her. She looks over her shoulder to witness the prepared stunning of Mirhoz just before her escort rams her shoulder forcefully and drags her into the crowd. "HURRY" He growls, not wishing to join the fate of the others. Stumbling onward, Ambrosia continues to prattle into the link for a moment longer. "Yes, I know that. No, I...I...C4 just do as I say. Now." Eyes blurred with tears of frustration, she crams the link onto her belt, misses, and it goes clattering to the ground before crunching beneath the feet of startled civilians. They didn't teach you how to run in 'diplomacy school', though perhaps they should. Fortunately, this unconventional Ambassador had had alternative training. "Get off me!" She snaps to the cumbersome escort as they make fast tracks after Lando's former route. Smitherbodkins' attention is still split between the lovely woman and the rather annoying Imperial. A sigh escapes his lips as he shakes his head at the man, making a sweeping gesture to the men quelling the rioting NR zealots. "Lucky for you that you have it under control, sir," he admonishes, as he steps forward to survey the chaos before him. His parade, his beautiful parade! What had they done to it??? He bad brought in the extra security, he had informed the Imperials, he had stayed up late and gotten up early for a week, and all for naught! Were his events now cursed always to end in disaster? It seemed so, from the looks of this one. Turning badk to Paris, he begins to say something, but she then excuses himself. Curse it! Another opportunity ruined by the Imperial in front of him. He says nothing more to the man, simply stweing in his own ire. A guard comes up beside him, and begins, "Lod Smitherbodkins, would you-..." "Not now! Just take care of it," the gentleman snaps, waving him away. Can't they do one thing without his supervision? One moment he's in a rather heated pursuit of what is very obviously an important person, given the level of attention that Kreldin had lavished upon the fleeing and no longer even visible Lando. But the next, something that even in his most wildest fantasies Mirhoz had not believed to be possible occurs. The stun blasts, both of them in fact, land squarely upon his back, and instantly the muscles on the ex-Imperial's body go limp. In a split second he tries to adjust his fall, so that maybe he'd land in such a way that his armor would absorb most of the impact; but it's little use, as before the ground even contacts with Mirhoz's head, the Espo is unconscious. The obstacle having been cleared, the Ortolan hustles back to the final float in the parade. It begins to wheel slowly out of the staging area. On top of the parade is a giant spherical sun, shining down on fields of Corellian Wheat, Galactic Corn, and Tralusian Spinach, just a few of the myriad of crops that are harvested on Corellia each year. From aboard the float, jizz music begins to play. Those who follow jizz music would recognize it as one of Wailing Frederiko and the Sack of Pancakes #1 hits from the last year. And indeed, the roof of the giant sun begins to open, exposing the band inside. Frederiko is perched atop a swoop, playing his jizzaphone. The swoop has been done up to look like a chariot, with giant wooden wheels on each side. The float inches down the street. Sadly, much of the audience has already begun to disperse in the chaos following the New Republic float. They were missing the best part! Maris is beginning to think that all of this has long surpassed a /big/ favor and nods to Morrison when he inquires about the float. She points over to the general direction of where it last was and said, "Over that way." She then turns back to Janos when he asks her to remove the man that's just been stunned and inquires, "Where do you wish his be moved to and what information do you have on him?" Making haste towards the exit, Calrissian slows after he notices that the Imperials seem to be paying less and less attention to him. Slowing to a halt, he heads a few steps toward Ambrosia and her escort. Pulling two small hold-out blasters from his boots, he hands one to each. Without any introductions, he states: "I have a way of getting off this rock. But we should move fast." Behind his crates, Enb'Zik has lost all sight of the goings on. He does not see Paris leaving the crowd. He does not see Calrissian or Ambrosia making it safely away. He hears the sound of stun rays going off and the choked cry of what he presumes to be their victim, but he doesn't see that, either. The noise is enough to tell him things are past the point of out-of-hand. He also never sees Johanna, or her temper gone horribly, horribly bad. Clearing the screen on his datapad, the Sullustan begins scribbling a second message in the angular, Aurabesh characters, and a second later, a beeping similar to the one Paris heard begins to emit somewhere from within Snarl's robes - UNIT ZERO DISENGAGING. HIGH CAUTION. HOOK AT 001011011. With the upbeat pomp of Frederiko's band playing in the background, Ambrosia darts and weaves her way through the crowds with her escort in tow. Well, this couldn't have been a bigger waste of a shuttle ticket. Actually, yes...yes, there could have been bad wine. Counting her blessings, the woman pauses for just a moment to look back and ensure that they are not being chased after. Seeing Lando and his offerings, she smirks. "I carry my own, thank you." Reaching into her tunic, she reveals a palm blaster, then tucks it away again. "I highly suggest we move faster than fast. And pick up my droid in the process." Grabbing her escort by the sleeve, she makes a motion for Lando to lead on and keeps close on his heels. "Well, she was --" Lyra begins in some attempt to frame a reply but Johanna just plows on and Lyra stops bothering trying to reply when Johanna decides to make her eyes glow. Now there was something she didn't see every day. There's really no way for the swoop-girl to look blase when people's eyes start glowing. Call it a personality flaw. "No she's not here she --" "Who have I been speaking...?" For once it's Lyra who can't finish a thought as Johanna does her best verbal impersonation of a drunken bull Bantha stomping around a store full of Chandrilia porcelain and now turns to verbally savaging Lyra herself. "Half there? Hovertrains? What are you talking about? Are you on Spice or something?" she regards the ranting desert woman incredulously as if Johanna pulled off a rubber mask and revealed herself to actually be Jabba the Hutt. And if it weren't for you meddling swoop-girls, I'd have gotten away with it, too! The entire moment helps itself to an extra few helpings of surreality especially when Johanna pauses in her tirade to kick some passerby just in time for two big glowing rings of stun beams race behind Johanna's back to hit some fleeing fellow. Once, Lyra would have found this kind of random violence to be uproariously funny, but not at the moment. Morrison says to Maris, "Belay that order." His voice is loud over the crowd, edgy. "You're not on naval duty when your boots are on soil, your under my command." He watches the chaos and doesn't want his trooper getting mixed up in the mess until the authorities arrive and sort things out. "We'll need to keep close to the advisor here." With her line of sight well over the heads of nearly everyone else, Snarl sees a lot of different events taking place at various distances from her position. The golden eyes note with satisfaction the successful escape of the ever smooth and slippery Lando. They also see the strange behavior of Johanna, although the Jedi is too far away to be overheard. The Horansi witnesses the stunning of someone involved with the attempted restraint of Calrissian, but she really isn't certain exactly what happened there. As she is filing all these events away chronologically in her memory, the Horansi is nearly startled right out of her concealing robes when one of her interior pockets starts beeping. Recovering her composure, Snarl retrieves a small datapad and glances at the message flashing on the screen. Brows furrowing ever so slightly, she utters a very quiet rumbling as she stows the device back into her clothing and then casually turns to begin meandering off toward the exit. Maris, despite her not being in uniform, salutes Morrison and barks, "Yes, sir!" She reaches for her weapon and takes her next move from her superior officer. Danik lets out one more sigh, the stress of the parade letting loose. General van Sen and his team had finally arrived, a bit late, though. Still, at least no further interruptions were ensured. Danik walked away from Smitherbodkins, approaching Janos. "Lieutenant, where are the three suspects I had? One of them was Lando Calrissian.. I don't see them," Danik said, frowning as he looked around. "Don't tell me..." He resisted the urger to slap his forehead. "van Sen!" Danik shouted, looking over to Morrison and Maris. "Lando Calrissian and two other rebels have escaped. I suggest you close off all exits and seal off the starports. He escaped me last time.. I won't allow it happen again!" Lando walks with an extreme speed toward the closest unguarded exit. He does, however, happen upon an odd sight. Behind one of the closest supply crates, Calrissian picks up on the huddled form of Enb'Zik. Sliding quickly up beside him, he mutters: "Hey there - need to get out?" Although late to the festivities, a fully alert and relatively prepared Sima approaches the parade area in haste. Truly, most people appear to be fleeing, from as much as the Twi'lek can tell, which can only mean one thing. "Mm, it better be worthwhile!", Sima calls towards one of the former onlookers as the pair pass each other. Although he'll never see it, or think of it again, the man looks back at Sima in disgust. Not that it would have bothered the Twi'lek all that much, even had he seen the look. After all, the man clearly knew what Sima had been talking about, and that in and of itself is a plus! Still, better late than never, he does arrive. And immediately begins to frown. For it seems to Sima very quickly that the better portion of the action has already been missed, and little to occupy his attention other than, say, sudden and total destruction by attempting an open move against the Imperials, who appear to be gaining a degree of control on the situation. "I think not!" "Lights," Morrison curses and looks at Danik before whipping out his comlink. "Corsec Control, this is Gen. Morrison Van Sen of the IGF, I'm declaring a state of emergency in Coronet City and decree Imperial Authority over the transportation command. Lock down the spaceport and all out-bound arteries leading away from the city." He looks to Maris after listening to some more comlink chatter. "Lt. Maris, Corsec troops are coming down the street, make your way to them and have them put CS-gas on the crowd to disperse it NOW." Morrison pulls his jacket open and whips out the modified bi-polar carbine at his side. He activates it and pulls Danik back, "Sorry sir, we're making our way to a secure location now, bring your staff and all the others with you." The young Imperial Lieutenant looks at danik, he is a bit shocked. "The Troopers we left should still be watching for them. I dont know what was wrong with Mirhoz but he was very suspicious. I wasnt sure if he was friend and foe and I ordered his stun." he turns to one of the troopers, "Trooper, take him to Conqueror 1. We are going to take him to the ship." He touches his comlink, "Conqueror, This is Janos Audron. Launch All Tie Squadrons and dont let any ship escape to hyperspace without being searched from top to toe." he sure doesnt know where Lando and others gone he just plans to stop them from escape. He adds, "Call an Interdictor Cruiser to block the Hyperspace route A.S.A.P!" He turns to Morrison, "Good to have you with us Sir, But If I am correct that Rebel scum will not try to escape from the spaceport or if they will try they will try to sneak away. We need Naval support and Conqueror is out there to help." he smiles. The guard that Smitherbodkins dismissed says something else on his comlink, and after a few moments, more guards seem to come out of nowhere to begin herding the spectators on their way. Hopefully before the gas gets to them! The people seem to be relatively willing to leave, the more vicious among them some laughing to each other at the events. The normal ones, howeever, seem horrified. One Twi'lek says to his human companion, "Is this what we have to look forward to now?" The human shrugs, shaking his head sadly, "The Empire, the New Republic...it's all the same to me." A curt nod is given to the large General as Maris replies, "Consider it done, sir." She turns and starts pushing her way through the crowd and towards the exit to meet up with the reinforcements. Great, not only has her liberty been shot but now she's missed out on the best part of all. What a waste. "What? No, no gas!" Danik shouted at Morrison. "There's no need! These people haven't done anything, and they're already dispersing," Danik said, rather confused by the order. "All we have to do is prevent Calrissian from escaping - gassing these people won't do that, it'll only cause problems for us down the line, General," Danik said, pushing away the escorts that were intended to take him to a secure location.. As the Sun float, the last in the parade, moves down the street and the parade ends, most of the spectators begin to disperse peacably. With the heightened Imperial presence, most people did not wish to stick around to see what was going to happen. With Smitherbodkins' guards encouraging people to leave, the street is rapidly emptying, leaving behind piles of garbage and anti-Imperial fliers. Men carrying large brooms and towing giant garbage bins begin to move in, hired by Smitherbodkins to tend to the mess. Calrissian soon reaches the gate, and shoves his blaster pistol into the sash-belt around his waist. Waltzing out of the arena, the man heads - mingled with the crowd - toward the spaceport with more than a little trepidation. He should not have come here. Not only did he get harassed by Imperial grunts, he never was able to meet up with his partner. No time now, however - Lando simply needs to get off the planet. "Oh no, I definitely think not", Sima exclaims as he watches over the sudden degree of organization seen amongst the Imperial ranks. Being no stranger to such actions himself, the Twi'lek assumes that somewhere, near or far, or more likely both, exits are doubtlessly being sealed. Being caught in such a situation is not what Sima had in mind when he'd rushed over to see the 'festivities', however, and just as quickly as he'd come to begin with, the Twi'lek is already making his way as quickly and discreetly as possible. "Roger that Advisor Kreldin, but be advised that its against my official recommendation. Your principle targets have already vanished." He looks at the advisor remembering full well their history together. Now the authority was in the other man's hand and Morrison was fine with the arrangement. He gets on the comlink. "Belay the gas order. Dispersal should be done peacefully, keep the lockdown on the hangar tight." He calls Maris and says, "Lieutenant, belay that last order and pull back to protect Advisor Kreldin. I'll evacutate the other Imperial VIPs." Janos Audron nods his head, "If he escaped from here, he probably wont be fast enough to escape this planet with an Interdictor cruiser and a Star Destroyer at Space." his comlink beeps, "Go Ahead." he says and comlink speaks, "Most of the Tie Squadrons are scrambled Sir." His ensign says. The Lieutenant nods his head and speaks again "Do not Let, I repeat Do not Let ANY ships to escape to hyperspace Before searched from top to toe. It is same for Incoming ships too. They will be searched from top to toe." He turns to Danik, "If he will try to escape, he will fail." He says with a grin. Gas. Well, that's Lyra's cue to leave quickly. A pity she missed the parade in trying to talk some sense into Johanna. A once-over of the area and Lyra hurriedly lets herself be herded out with the rest of the crowds. Still, it occurs to her that the galaxy had gone completely and irrecoverably mad when she was asking Johanna if she was crazy. Danik nodded to the general. "Thank you, general," he said, preparing to make his exit now that he had saved themselves from certain political disaster. "Announce a planet-wide alert. Tell all the citizens of Corellia to be on the look-out for Lando Calrissian, and that all good citizens should do him harm. If they have any information regarding him, they will be rewarded fifty thousand credits," Danik said to one of his men. "He couldn't have gotten far." A repulsor vehicle was awaiting him, and he got into the backseat. He needed to relax. He really, really wanted the parade to go well. But those rebels.. they just had to constantly distrupt the order. "Take me to the starport.." On second thought, the spaceport may not be such a great idea. The ship he came in is not in his name, bu in his drivers. However, he can be sure that they are searching all of the ships. Instead, Lando opts to head to one of his safehouses on the planet to lie low and bide his time. Heading to a monorail, Lando plans his route. Garage - airspeeder - safehouse. It should work well. With most of the crowds gone, and the extra security and clean-up crew on the job, there's very little left for Smitherbodkins to do. He simply looks out over the disaster left in the wake of the parade, shaking his head and beginning the trek down to the floats to talk over the aftermath with Frederiko. A brightly-colored anti-Imperial flyer catches his eye, and he bends down to pick it up, reading it over quickly and snickering under his breath at what it says. They've misspelled 'tyranny'. How appropriate. Having made some progress to meet the troops for the gassing, she hears Morrison order her to retreat and go back to protect Danik along with cancelling the gas bombs. Oh yeah, he's going to owe her big for this one. Not surprisingly, her ability to report back to Danik was easier than trying to get out. She takes her place by the man and keeps a sharp eye out for anyone who might have any thoughts about harming him.
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