Starwars - Wednesday, January 19, 2000, 10:35 PM ------------------------------------------------ Sitting on the edge of Relentless's ramp, Devon Striker seems to have regained much of his strength and composer. However, it has also been replaced by a bit of annoyance. He had expected a warmer welcome from the New Republic, instead of the constant wait and denial issued so far. Moira wanders in slowlly from the city and sighs, as she heads towards the Relentless. weaving her way in between the ships, her mind drifts back to the hill top she just visited, and smiles slightly.. Such a calming effect... Tossing Devon a smile sa she nears.." Any word yet?", not needing to go into further detail. Very sure of himself, Bazil steps down the loading ramp to the Internuncio, adjusting the shirt on his body as he walks. He taps behind him, on a small panel, as the ramp withdraws back into the vessel. Stretching softly, he molds into the clothing, and steps off a few meters from the ship, before looking about the area slowly. Devon shakes his head, the answer not needing any more explination than that. Devon's eyes show the annoyance and disapointment, but beyond that, he smiles upon seeing his friend. "I've had warmer welcome's on Nar Shaddaa." Moira sighs and runs her hand through her hair and hmms softly..."I dunno what to tell you Devon. It could have been a pure waste of our time to come here.. If it is ment I should see him I shall, if not.. I can handle things hun.. Just need to hire a few more guards.", her eyes retaining their humor, even at her words as she stops upon reaching him. Bazil continues to stand near the Internuncio for a few moments, before mumbling inaudibly to himself softly. He reaches into a pocket, pulling out a datapad, and begins reviewing it for a few moments. Finally, he shakes his head, and pushes the datapad back into place. Frowning, his hand withdraws a small com unit, and he flicks it on, and starts up a conversation, seemingly, with it. Spaceport -- Imperial City The Imperial City spaceport is one of a countless number of spaceports that litter the surface of Coruscant like craters on a moon. This particular spaceport, the largest, is a multistory complex built atop a triad of towers which loom over all adjacent buildings like a mythological giant. Of the spaceports myriad of hangars and areas, none is more pivotal than the CUSTOMS and Immigration area near the gated exit. Of all the other connecting accessways, most link the main spaceport with smaller, private hangars or storage areas. New Republic soldiers stand at each of these accessways, friendly and congenial, but always on the alert. -=-=-=-=-=-=<>=-=-=-=-=-=- => Devon => Moira => Shuttle: Freedom => Shuttle Call - Coruscant -=-=-=-=-=<>=-=-=-=-=- est leads to East Republic Ave -- Imperial City. Smileing slightly at her joke, Devon shakes his head. As he pats the 'seat' next to him, Devon's voice carries cool and calm, the baby blue eyes scanning Moira. "If this woman's powers are as strong as I fear...guards are simply splinters. But, I'll understand if you wish to return." Moira sighs and leans against the side of her ship.." I'll wait a day or so.. We did come all this way after all. Who knows, we may even be barking up the wrong tree Devon..", shrugging faintly as she tosses him a small smile. Devon nods slowly, knowing all to well that the NR is vast...and finding a solitary sole in it may be difficult, no matter how important the person is. Leaning back he glances up to Moira and sighs. She has managed to remain far more distant than he'd hope after their interactions...even now as the friends they agreed to be. Without a doubt, he enjoys her closeness, but perhaps its just too much to ask. "Its a long way from home, thats for sure. And this city...so damn solid. I wouldn't think you could find a blade of grass anywhere." The frown on Bazil's face consistantly grows, as he finally looks up to the faces of three technicians; two Sullustans and a human, trussed in New Republic support garb. They, headed towards the Internuncio, nod to the disgruntled Bazil, and he tosses the human a datapad drawn from yet another pocket. Bazil, with that, simply walks off, keying something into the comunit in his hand. The three techs watch, almost in confusion, before shrugging it off, and going to check out the vehicle... Meanwhile, though, Bazil pulls the unit up to his mouth, and starts talking in a rather large voice... "Look... I don't give a," His voice gets lost, as a small Lambda shuttle soars twenty meters overhead, "what your excuse is." Bazil frowns, adjusting his course to take himself around a Kale in his path, stepping only a few meters away from it's entrance, "I told you, get Skywalker, and tell him Representative Dawntreador wishes to speak with him /immediately./" He stops short, cursing at the reply again, "Look. If you can't find him, I'm sure I can find someone else who can." Listening to the reply, he grins with a smug satisfaction, "Good. I have your word now. Within the day." With that, he clicks the unit off, and pawns it into his shirt. He remains in place, though, pulling another datapad from his endless pockets, and begins studying the display. While Moira and Devon converse, Devon glances up. His ears must be playing tricks on him, for he heard the VERY name that he had been searching for. Glancing over towards the general direction of the voice, Devon asks Moi very simply..."You hear that?" Moira blinks and looks over her shoulder.." hear wha who huh?", her own thoughts light years away as she cranes her neck to see what devon is speaking about.." Hear what?", her brows lifting with curiosity as her gaze searches the area. Devon stands himself as he peers towards the general direction of the name. "Swear I heard someone talking about Skywalker. I don't know, my ears are prolly just playing wishfull tricks on me." He shakes his head, just about ready to enter the Relentless for the night. The only creatures on the pad nearby are some techs and a pilot. None of them could know this famed Jedi Master. "Blasted jedi..." Bazil mutters audibly, briskly tapping at the datapad, a bit too hard. A grimace forms over his face, as he reviews the information. He cricks his neck, and stretches softly. A soft beep startles him, as he pulls the comunit free again. He presses it to his mouth, and again speaks, "Yes? What do you mean, you can't find him? Don't give me those excuses... if you're too incompetant--" He stops short, listening, "Alright. Ok. I understand. When you find Skywalker, tell him it's urgent, though. It is. What? Oh. Yeah." He clips the unit onto his tunic for ease of retrieval, and mutters softly, before returning to the datapad. there it was again.. that tingle, the name the tingle.. Grrrr... Moira;s eyes dart the starport and lock onto Bazils form, as if drawn there. Smiling faintly, she nods towards devon.." There. He said it, I am allmost sure of it..", her voice trailing off as she studies him curiously. Devon eyes go wide as Moira's 'from-the-air' prediction proves true. Sure enough, the man is mumbling every bit more loudly than before about Jedi and Skywalker. But how had Moira done that? He glances her over once, trying to figure things out, before whispering...