Log Date: 6/16/98, 6/17/98 Log Cast: Shenneret Veery, Tarroc D'agor, Lando Calrissian, Bec Ga'lec Log Intro: There has been a recent influx of new visitors on Calamari -- and with them comes new interests and new audiences for the young street bard Shenner. But with them also has come a ship that no citizen or even transient on Calamari could fail to recognize: the _Millenium Falcon_, the famous freighter piloted by Han Solo and Chewbacca. For Shen, however, it brings back rather vivid recollections of what happened to her on Palanhi... and a reluctant wondering whether she might try to somehow contact the man she'd played her small part in helping, to see if maybe, just maybe, she could find out from him where Luke Skywalker is and how to get in touch with him. So Shen has been haunting the spaceport, hoping to catch a glimpse of the Corellian or his Wookiee partner -- or better still, Princess Leia or Luke himself -- not brave enough to try to send them any kind of message, not yet. As it happens, Shen doesn't know that another of the well-known Rebel heroes, and another who'd been on Palanhi with the ragtag assembly who'd formed the party on the _Black Dragon_, is _also_ on Calamari: Lando Calrissian. ---------- Calamari Coral City -- Main Spaceport A large docking bay, people of all races bustling between various terminals, the hum of many conversations in different tongues periodically muted by the roaring of a shuttle's engines. Expansive white walls, smooth and cold as washed stone, gleam in the soft light cast by the fixtures in the ceiling. There is the continuous shuffle of cargo being loaded and unloaded and the need to move out of harms way as a cargo lifter passes by you. Occasionally a wisp of salty air tickles your nose but it quickly fades away. A cargo lifter scoots by as it heads toward one of the private docks then disappears north toward the space platform. To the south the shapes and lights of a lively city can be seen. -=-=-=-=-=-=<>=-=-=-=-=-=- => Economic Presence -=-=-=-=-=-=<>=-=-=-=-=-=- => Lando => Shuttle: Freedom => Tarroc => STARFIGHTER: Yacht Lady Luck => STARFIGHTER: Incom T-65B X-wing -- Ghost 1 => STARFIGHTER: Sardakh Kale-1 -- Firedancer => STARFIGHTER: Corellian YT-1300 -- Millennium Falcon => STARFIGHTER: Corellian YT-1300 -- Ziggurat => Shuttle Call - Calamari => IGNews Terminal (NR) - Calamari => STARFIGHTER: Sienar Lambda Class Shuttle -- Freedom -=-=-=-=-=<>=-=-=-=-=- aiting leads to Waiting To Be Linked. orth leads to Military Landing Platform - Calamari. ivil leads to Civil Offices - Calamari. leads to Calamari Coral City -- North Coral Avenue. Stepping rather warily, green eyes flicking across the docking bay almost as if she expects to be intercepted, Shenner reaches the perimeter of the place and leans against an out-of-the-way wall, peering pensively in the direction of the _Millenium Falcon_. Tarroc would appear to be standing, relatively out in the open, talking to Lando. An R2 unit in one of the X-Wing fighters on the outer edge of the landing pad seems to be beeping annoyingly, totally oblivious to everything besides the minor problem on it's host fighter that it's whining about. Though Tarroc seems at least fairly casual about it, Lando's brow furrows into an immediate frown, chasing any joviality from his countenance. He says, concerned, "You suspect sabotage, Commodore? Have you contacted security?" At that, his own brown eyes move toward the _Millenium Falcon_, and the other ships and people within the area, as though a potential spy might simply be standing there, holding a sign. Tarroc shakes his head, "Nah, just trying to make myself feel more important then I am." He grins good-naturedly, "We haven't had a report of a leak or anything else unusual in a while, really. Nothing to worry about -- Dizzy was probably just trying to recalibrate the system, broke it, and won't own up to doing it." Shenner isn't exactly trying to hide, per se, but on the other hand, the redheaded young woman doesn't move away from the position she's chosen. Her gaze flicks off towards the docked form of the _Firedancer_, before returning to the battered Corellian freighter; a frown's tugging at one end of her mouth, and she fidgets restlessly with the shoulder strap of the black leather flute bag dangling off her shoulder. Lando's gaze... or search, if you wanted to call it that, falls upon the musician and lingers there a moment. From the appreciative gleam in his eye, it's fairly obvious that the attention he gives her is for reasons other than espionage. As Tarroc speaks, the gambler's momentary paranoia seems to slip away, and he lets out a sigh of relief. He turns back to Tarroc and says, "Well, I hope that's all it is." Tarroc bobs his head affirmatively, quirking a brow as Lando's gaze drifts away. He follows the other's example, looking off towards the outer perimeter of the base. "Hmm. First time I've ever seen her north of the square," he comments, then looks back to Lando, "Uhr, yeah, I'm sure it is. Any really competent spy would have done something to my droid, anyway." If Shenner is aware she's come to the attention of the two officers, she gives no sign of it. The young musician crosses her arms, maintaining her lean against the wall, and staring with a dark green regard at the _Falcon_. Or perhaps past it. Naturally, Lando's eyes move over toward the object Tarroc keeps referring to as 'Dizzy', the question of whether the droid was tampered with or not remaining unspoken. His voice low, he asks, "Solitary type, is she?" With an open smile, Lando turns to look upon the woman once more, then notes her attention being given to the battered YT-1300. He asks Tarroc, again quietly, "Is she a friend of Han's?" Tarroc scratches the back of his head for a moment, considering, "I don't know, off-hand. Ship's kinda famous though, wouldn't you think? I mean, we watched some battle ROMs of the thing flying circles around TIEs and whatnot at TraCom after Yavin... maybe she's just trying to catch a glimpse of it, who knows." Tarroc addends, "Actually, maybe... hmm. I'm not sure. Sorry." Lando draws in a deep breath through his nose, as if savoring the salty-moist air of Calamari. He says, letting the breath out slowly, "Well, I suppose there's only one way to find out." Brushing his cloak behind him, Lando puts on his most charming smile and begins approaching the mysterious young woman. He says, smoothly, "Hello, ma'am, I'm Lando Calrissian. I couldn't help but notice your interst in the Falcon..." he pauses as his brown eyes fix and the green ones before him, a tickle of a memory catching him off guard. Shenner straightens from her slouch, pushing off from the wall; it's impossible to miss Calrissian's striking figure approaching her, and she blinks several times before plastering on a more or less casual expression. "Uh... hiya," she answers back gruffly. A beat, and then she appends, ".... General." Her gaze flicks past him to the freighter in question, and she adds, a trifle rapidly, "It's 'General', right?" Lando Before you is a tall, dark-skinned male of average build, with short, wavy dark hair. Many would probably regard him as handsome. His brown eyes gaze coolly about the area with an air of friendliness and confidence, bordering on cockiness. A simple, short black mustache decorates a slightly angular face. Perhaps it is the set of his jaw, or perhaps it is the cocksure air about him, but he looks as if he usually would wear a knowing, maybe even arrogant, smile. Currently, his attire is what could be described as a uniform of some sort, made of some sort of velvet-like material. His dark brown trousers look as though they've been recently pressed. The loose fitting shirt he wears is of a color that seems to be almost a mixture of a flat green and tan. A matching cloak is clasped near the color of his shirt. In most systems, his clothing would probably be described as expensive looking, yet tasteful. -=-=-=-=-=-=<>=-=-=-=-=-=- => DY-255 Heavy Blaster Pistol Tarroc follows after Lando for a moment, then frowns as his comm-link beeps. Picking it off his belt, he begins fiddling with it -- emitting a cacophony of beeps, nonetheless -- as he absently wanders in what he thinks is the general direction of the other. Fortunately for him, he looks up just in time to stop himself from walking into the landing skid of an A-Wing. Sidestepping, he makes his way over to join Lando, "Uhr, hey Shen." Lando's eyes narrow slightly as he thinks, 'A soldier then. Or pilot.' The thought dissapears at Tarroc's greeting, turning into a cloudy haze of inarticulate doubt. He says, after giving Tarroc a quick glance and turning back to Shenner, "Actually, I'm retired now. Some people insist on calling me Captain, but I would hope that you'd call me Lando." The approach of Tarroc D'agor, too, is noted by the girl. A Commodore is rather less intimidating than a General -- and at any rate, Tarroc is a little easier for Shenner to handle than Lando's smoothly practiced charms, though she admits to none of this. She does flick Tarroc a lopsided half-smile of greeting, before returning her green regard to Calrissian. "Uh... okay," she answers, readily enough, the half-smile still there as she appends, "You probably don't remember me. My name's Shenner." Tarroc huffs indignantly at his comm-link as it beeps again, this time somehow sounding more insistent. He murmurs a brief, "Excuse me," making his way away from the two again. After holding the link to his ear for a moment, he jogs off towards the main council building. He doesn't seem all that urgent, but makes his way briskly inside all the same. The tickle of memory stirs more insistently in his brain, to the point of nearly missing Tarroc's rapid departure. At the last moment, he turns his head to follow the man's rapid walk away. Turning back to Shenner, he says, "I'm forced to admit that I can't quite place where we've met before, though your face is quite familiar. Were you a member of Gold group at the Battle of Endor?" Shen's gaze flicks after Tarroc with just a fraction of a hint of trepidation -- before Lando's question makes her blink and stare in startlement up at the man before her. Then a bemused, crooked smile flares out across her face, and she lets off a bark of a laugh before quickly shaking her head. "Uh, no, Gen--er, nah, I'm a little young for that. I was on Palanhi, last year.... when you all were tryin' to get General Solo back." Her smile dims down a bit; though her tone doesn't audibly change, it makes her look a little sheepish. Palanhi... of course! That tickling, buzzing sensation of a memory trying to surface bursts apart like the shattering of a soap bubble, and the expression on Lando's face reflects this. "Of course! How could I have forgotten?" Brown eyes shift to their surroundings once more, before he adds, a measure of disbelief in his voice, "I'm surprised to see you here." Shen's mostly casual expression wavers, just a touch, before she tosses off a breezy sort of shrug. "Well, this is just where I happened to wind up, yah know?" And the young woman smiles crookedly. Lando nods an appreciative nod, saying, "I know. You haven't spent this whole time on Calamari though, have you?" Again, Lando looks about the area, his brow furrowing slightly before he asks quickly, "Would you like to go somewhere else and talk? Perhaps let me get you a drink?" Shenner blinks, then smiles steadily once again, saying, "Sure, thanks, if you want..." The redhead doesn't answer the other question put to her, though, not as of yet. Much as someone else that had been present at Palanhi would do, Lando offers the young woman his arm with the same smooth graces as a Corellian gentleman. He says in his smooth baritone, "Shall we, madame?" For just a second or so, Shen seems a bit nonplussed by the display of manners -- but she recovers well, smiles crookedly, and takes the proffered arm, after steadying her flute bag on her opposite shoulder. "Thank you," she replies with credible aplomb. Feeling more himself than he has in the last several days, Lando leads the young musician down the street, walking with the same, liesurely lazy pace as a man strolling through a park, without a care in the world. Lando Calrissian might be at home with a young woman on his arm, but the young woman in question is not accustomed to her current position. Though she appears to be handling it well, still, a practiced eye might note signs of nervousness -- her green gaze flicking out to her surroundings, and occasionally to her feet, perhaps to make sure her strides are keeping up with her companion's. You decide to investigate the aesthetic delights of the Coral City. Calamari Coral City -- North Coral Avenue An extensive thoroughfare, the road, made of smooth pearly white sea rocks with irregular hues of pink, glistens under the warm rays of the sun. Residential buildings that seem to have sprung from the very depths of the dark blue oceans tower into the sky. However, these structures, made of a pale blue almost translucent material, are not nature's ingenuity, but that of the Mon Calamari. Cataracts of leaves, rustling in the cool breeze, flow from large trees providing plenty of shade. Many citizens walk to and fro, either to disappear into their dwellings or to quickly pause before a fountain and refresh themselves with its sparkling waters. To the west, you catch a glimpse of coral hills which lure you to take a stroll through the Coral Gardens, and coming from the south you hear the distinct sound of water rushing against cold stone, a pleasant call for you to head into the city's center square. Toward the north is the spaceport. -=-=-=-=-=<>=-=-=-=-=- leads to Calamari Coral City -- Coral Gardens. leads to Calamari Coral City - Coral City Square. leads to Calamari Coral City -- Main Spaceport. Surrounded by the tall, ingenious Mon Calamari structues of pale blue and ivory, with the glory of the day spread out before them like a perfect pearl plucked from the ocean's depths, Lando walks with the red-headed young woman with a casual grace and step, his attention more on his companion than the breath-taking surroundings that is the city. Close observation can mark several things about this redheaded young woman: her clothes are fairly old, though the silken inner shirt visible between the buttons of her outer one, as well as the silver necklace and the beaded cords braided into her hair, suggest she's putting at least a little effort into her attire. There are faint hints of shadows just at the corners of her eyes, traces of wear on her young features. But as she walks along towards the city square, the flute bag slung over her shoulder banging soundlessly against the small of her back, her voice is steady as she tosses off almost challengingly, "So, I guess you're wondering why I was hanging out lookin' at General Solo's ship, huh?" You head toward the city's center square. Calamari Coral City - Coral City Square This vast square, the ground paved with the same pearly white sea rock as the avenue, is deeply cherished by the citizens of Coral City. The plaza slopes downward toward an imposing fountain where the likeness of a Mon Calamari looking upward toward the ocean blue sky and that of a Quarren, its eyes cast down toward the depths of the fountain, have been etched in stone, the salty water streaming like salty tears down their silent faces. Erected to honor the symbiotic relationship that these two races have shared, it is a relic of a once peaceful past when the ocean of space was but a distant dream. Many citizens come here to reminisce, or to rest awhile before continuing on their way. Large crowds gather as a constant flow of people arrive from the west where the city's Commercial District is to be found, or from the Market District to the east. What appear to be the wealthier citizens of Coral City continue on their way southward onto Coral Avenue. Others, not so wealthy, make their way on the northbound stretch of the avenue. -=-=-=-=-=-=<>=-=-=-=-=-=- => Coral City Information Booth -=-=-=-=-=<>=-=-=-=-=- - leads to Calamari Coral City -- Market District. - leads to Calamari Coral City -- South Coral Avenue. - leads to Calamari Coral City -- North Coral Avenue. Lando arrives from North Coral Avenue. Lando has arrived. "The thought had crossed my mind," comes Lando's reply, his voice lowering as they enter the more bustling and crowded center. While keeping his attention on his companion, he steps closer to her for a moment, manuevering them around a pair of overweight Mon Calamari, standing in their path and having a heated discussion in the pops and clucks of their native tongue. "Whoa," Shen might be heard to mutter. There's a momentary unsettled flicker in her features -- though whether it's due to nearly bumping into the Mon Cals or Calrissian's stepping closer is perhaps difficult to tell. But she lets herself be maneuvered, regardless, and the trace of uneasiness is gone when their course is resumed. As she falls back into stride, gazing off ahead of herself as she goes, she says straightforwardly, "Well, I saw her, the _Falcon_, in the bay, ya know, and I recognized her, and I thought, maybe this meant General Solo's here." She pauses, at least verbally if not in her walk, and goes on after a moment or two, delivering the added words in what she probably hopes is an airy tone, "It, well, reminded me of Palanhi." You stroll southward on Coral Avenue. Calamari Coral City -- South Coral Avenue The avenue continues its southward stretch, the street paved with smooth pearly white sea rocks of irregular hues of pink glistening under the sun. Surrounding you are lofty buildings, made of a verdant translucent material with spacious terraces and waterspouts on every roof, the water cascading down into small gullies. The colorful plant-life has been manicured into extravagant gardens, the leaves, vines and flowers pressing against the homes of the wealthy Mon Calamari citizens. Every so often you catch a glimpse of the inside of one of the homes when a window or door opens and you notice that the interior beauty matches or perhaps even surpasses that of the exterior. Passing you on the street are the well to do citizens either enjoying a pleasant stroll or whizzing by in their expensive hovercars. You turn to look south and a two story building that tapers upward catches your interest. To the north the avenue leads you to Coral Square. -=-=-=-=-=<>=-=-=-=-=- leads to The Rusty Urchin Restaurant. leads to Calamari Coral City - Coral City Square. Lando strolls down the street just arriving from Coral Square. Lando has arrived. Lando glances over his shoulder as they depart the more populated square and enter this more residential area, fixing his attention occasionally on some of the colorful plantlife. He says, giving the hand on his arm a gentle pat, "That's just what I was thinking when I saw Paul, back on Kichnar." Her reaction is short. But it's sharp, and it's palpable: the arm that receives the pat goes rigid, as if every muscle in that slender limb has suddenly tensed. Shen's red head visibly jerks, and something that might be alarm flares in her expression before she seems to get hold of herself. Then she rivets her gaze on the area she and her companion are entering, and only after a few seconds have passed does she finally answer, "You've.... seen Paul, huh?" Lando's brow furrows in curiosity and worry as he notes Shenner's reaction. His brown eys move to her facial features, noting some of the weariness around her eyes as he says, "Yes, though I didn't get to speak to him. Is something wrong?" _Ohmigod, now what?!_ Shenner thinks in a surge of panic. Her first impulse is to lie through her teeth, and claim that nothing at all is amiss; her second, though, is the recollection that Lando -- like General Solo -- is someone who might help her fulfill the advice of Sinjon Teague. She can't quite manage a smile, though she gives it a game attempt, and focuses most of her attention on keeping up her stride as she answers brusquely, "It's a... long story. Real long story. Listen, Ge... Lando. Do you... know how to contact Jedi Skywalker?" It's the gambler's turn to be taken by a surge of surprise and bitter emotions. At the mention of Luke's name, the muscles in the arm beneath Shenner's touch tense, and his jaw clenches tight. As the young woman had done, he quickly regains his composure and says, "You hadn't heard? Luke is in the Empire's hands. All attempts I've made to organize a rescue have run into problems of every sort." He turns his eyes away from his companion, giving a portion of plantlife and inordinate amount of attention. Shenner freezes there on the sidewalk, green eyes gone even wider in what is definitely, this time, alarm. For a few moment her mind simply blanks, unable to grasp hat Lando Calrissian has told her; finally, in a tone that suggests she's just been punched in the stomach, she croaks, "I... didn't know." Lando draws in a deep breath, letting it out slowly through his nostrils before turning a gentler gaze upon Shenner. He says, trying to make his voice comforting, "I'm sure he's alright. Leia told me when we fled Pride-1 that she had made some sort of contact with him. I mean... this is Luke we're talking about. If there's a man that can beat the odds when the chips are down, it's Luke." The young woman's heartsick expression throws into sharp relief the tiny shadows around her eyes, and the traces of the hollows in her cheeks. Her eyes have darkened, and she considers Calrissian uneasily, before finally issuing a grudging nod. _He oughtta know what he's talkin' about, if everything I've heard is true,_ she reasons. Still, she's clearly nervous, and she flicks a slender hand off southward to the Rusty Urchin, asking gruffly, "We headed there?" Lando looks toward the dining facility, their purpose for this walk momentarilly forgotten. As soon as he remembers where they were headed and why, his stomach tightens and twists in on itself. He says, regardless, "Ah, yes. I think a stiff drink is in order." Politely, he steps away from Shenner so as to open the door and gesture for her to enter, with a slight bow as if to say _After you_. Shenner mutters something low under her breath -- something that might be "...ow me out this time" -- then manages a lopsided smile at the dark man beside her, before edging into the establishment. The doorman quickly opens the restaurant's door and you step inside. The Rusty Urchin Restaurant The Rusty Urchin, a restaurant with high vaulted ceilings, the chandeliers dangling freely filling the room with a pale light, is one of the most celebrated and most frequented establishments of Coral City. Well to do Calamari citizens, business persons and even merchants dressed in their finest attire flock here to relish in both the restaurant's elegance and food. The intimate round tables of a coral hue are meticulously set with the finest porcelain, resembling smooth pink shells, stained glass and silverware. The cerulean walls, mirroring a calm sea, add to the pleasantness of the restaurant and certainly makes the eating experience here an enjoyable one. Waiters are seen moving from table to table carrying large trays laden with the most exquisite seafood cuisine, the lively chatter of the patrons blending with the sound of plates being set upon tables and the roar of the distant waves. A spiraling stairway, the steps a marble white, climbs upward toward the Veranda where a couple can be seen slipping away to in search of an even more intimate place. -=-=-=-=-=-=<>=-=-=-=-=-=- => Rukbar -=-=-=-=-=<>=-=-=-=-=- Stairs leads to Veranda. Exit leads to Calamari Coral City -- South Coral Avenue. Lando enters the restaurant, nodding quickly at the doorman. Lando has arrived. Unconsciously, Shen reaches to fidget with the straps of her flute bag, slinging the thing into a slightly more comfortable slant across her back. Suspecting that Lando Calrissian probably should do the talking in getting them a place to sit, the girl takes a moment to arrange her features into a steadier expression, while she swings a green glance about the place. Upon entering the Rusty Urchin, Lando removes the cloak from around his shoulders and places it on a handy hook not far from the door, demonstrating that he can occasionally sacrifice flashy style for practicality. As he turns back around, one of the natives, probably a waiter or servant of some sort, approaches, clucking in a conglomerate mixture Basic and Calamari cordial greetings and offers of assistance. Lando exchanges a few words with the individual, and before long, they're escorted toward a quiet table. With the same sort of cautious tread she might use in the middle of a minefield, Shenner follows Lando, and mutters a low "thank you" to the Mon Cal escort once their destination is reached. Her mode of sitting, like the rest of her, isn't particularly ladylike; she slides into her seat as if she's staking out territory. But she manages not to slouch. Lando, apparently thinking of how his stomach had twisted outside the Urchin, turns to the waiter before he leaves, saying, "R'alla mineral water, if you please." He gives Shenner an expectant look, and can't help but smile as he looks back into her face. She may not be glamorous, but by core, she's someone _real_, unlike the blonde Alderaanian he'd been around too long, and too recently. What, she's supposed to order? Oh. "Uh," says the young redhead, "cider, hey? Fruit cider." She crooks a smile at the waiter, then one to Calrissian; as he takes his own seat, then, the smile fades, and she ventures roughly, "So, uh... how long? I mean... how long's Luke been in trouble?" One bad memory after another, Lando says, "Not long before Pride-1 fell to the Imperials. In fact, it was in Griffon space that his X-wing was captured. I was on the space station at the time, trying to work out the details of a business venture." Shenner crosses her arms before her on the table, either ignorant of or oblivious to any etiquette regarding the placement of one's elbows. Her brow furrowed in evident concern, she absorbs this information, apparently searching for some kind of appropriate reply; finally, fretfully, she pokes at the elegantly rolled napkin before her. "Well... I know this ain--isn't saying much, but I hope he has better luck than General Solo did." She pulls the flute bag off her shoulder, dropping it down on the floor beside her, and keeps poking at her napkin with her other hand. "He looked like the Empire dragged him through six or seven hells, on Palanhi..." _He looked a bit worse in carbonite_ thinks Lando with some bitterness. His lips pucker as if he'd bit into something sour, before he says, "I remember. Of course, knowing Han, he probably just upset some Imperials with his wayward mouth. Luke is considerably more polite." He cracks a half-hearted smile at his own attempt at lightening the atmosphere. The girl shifts a bit in her seat; perhaps she's just a trifle uneasy at the table companion her luck's found her today, but if she is, she's doing a good job at hiding that, too. She manages a wan return smile, and then offers, "I... need to see him. Luke, I mean, not General Solo. I, uh... talked with Mon Mothma, see, and she didn't tell me nothin' about Luke, but, well." She pokes at the napkin some more, apparently finding this an outlet for her nervousness. Lando watches the woman across from him fidget with the napkin a few moments, considering reaching over and taking it from her. He thinks better of that, and instead says, "Why do you need to see Luke? Are you in some sort of trouble?" He pauses, thinking about her reaction outside, then continues more softly, "Does it have something to do with Paul?" With what is very likely conscious effort, Shenner clenches her slender fingers around the napkin, and looks up. There's an abruptly haunted look in her green eyes, and a visible strain to the smile she's trying to plaster on, without success. "Weeeeeeeell, uh," she finally mumbles, glancing off across the restaurant, "that's..... kinda part of that long story I mentioned...." "Maybe you'd better start from the beginning, then," Lando says, thinking back to some other times, both happy and sad. Earlier today, he didn't even recognize Shenner, so much time had passed and so much had happened in the interval between their meeting. Now, as the woman before him speaks and fidgets, the memories continue coming back to him more and more, clearer and clearer. Shen nods slowly, her gaze falling to study the tabletop before her; if she's aware of the approach of their waiter, with the requested drinks, she gives no signal of it. The girl's silent for several long moments, before she finally pulls in a breath and lets it out, beginning gruffly, "Uh, well. Y'know how... we all came back here, after Palanhi, right? And... Paul and me, we went to Tatooine, saw you and Luke there some. Getting ready to do Paul's trip to Mandalore. Well after that, Paul and I went to Corellia, and then bopped around between Caspar and Ithor and Tatooine for a while, and, uh, well, then we went to Mandalore...." She trails off. When she continues, her voice is perceptibly more ragged, "And then I was here." Lando takes something of a considerable pause, before asking the obvious question, "What do you mean, 'then you were here'?" Shen smiles again, far too broadly. An experienced gambler's eye -- like Calrissian's -- could very likely read her expression as one desperately intended to convey as casual a state of being as possible. And again, the redheaded girl is not entirely successful. "Well," she practically chirps, "that's what I gotta talk to Luke about, see? 'Cause, uh, I kinda don't really remember--" Oh good. The drinks are here. Shen seizes her cider, inhales a long, bracing gulp of the stuff, and finishes in that same falsely casual tone, "--what happened. On Mandalore." _Mandalore._ Lando thinks, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. _Now who was it that recently spoke to me about Mandalore? Paul? Durshan?_ Once more, he quitely curses himself for getting so distracted of late to forget such important details. Then again, trying (and failing) to organize a rescue is quite a distraction. He finally says, slowly, "Have you seen any of the medical examiners here? Did you receive some sort of head injury, perhaps?" "I, uh, don't _really_ think so, but I met this Horansi... and he's a Jedi.... and he said I have to talk to Luke." The words escape Shenner at a rate just shy of outright babbling. Lando quirks an eyebrow, obviously a little skeptical over a few certain details. He attempts to hid his skeptism by picking up his mineral water and swishing the clear liquid around in the glass a moment, watching the rippling surface. He says, finally, "What else did this Horansi Jedi tell you? Did he have a name?" "Sinjon Teague," replies the girl, promptly. "And, uh, well...." A pause; nervousness is still palpable in Shenner's expression, as well as her voice. "He says... somethin' happened to me involvin' the Force, and he can't fix it, so he thinks I gotta talk to Luke." Her tone's steady enough -- but ragged-edged, raw. Lando's frown deepens. Skepticism is replaced with growing, dawning concern, and again he feels the brief, reckless impulse to jump up and go after Luke immediately. Rationality remains king, and he pushes the wild ambition away with measured ease before he says, "I don't really know what to say. Perhaps Mon Mothma will arrange a rescue, or perhaps she'll let me continue to try and find some way of getting him back. Or, maybe you and I can go pick up Paul and the others and we'll break him out like we broke out Han at Palanhi." The girl goes very still; then, in a perhaps unconscious reflex, she lifts a hand to fidget with the silver-and-brass pendant dangling round her throat, a metallic contrast to the _other_ thing she wears about her neck: the small, shell-shaped form of her ocarina. "I..... don't know.... where Paul is," she mumbles. Lando either doesn't seem to notice Shenner fidget with the pendant around her neck, or doesn't think anything significant about it. He says, "Like I said, I saw him not to long ago on Kichnar." Another thought occurs to him suddenly, and that look of biting into a lemon returns to Lando's countenance before he continues, "If he's not still there, then I know someone else that might know where he is." Shen's hand clenches around the pendant's cord. She doesn't meet her companion's dark gaze, and from the sound of her, she's wrestling with what very well may be rising panic as she blurts out, "U-uh, I ain't exactly sure lookin' for Paul's a good idea, ya know?" Her accent roughens as she babbles -- there can be no other term for the delivery of her words, this time. "I-I mean, I know Paul'd be real karkin' worried about Luke, b-but, he's probably clear across the galaxy by now lookin' for gods knows what, a-and, do you think, do you think you could really spare the time if Luke needs ya?" Lando holds up both his hands before him, palms outward in the universal hand signal of defensiveness as he says, "Alright, Shenner! We don't have to go find Paul, and if I didn't have the time to save a friend like Luke, I'd make the time. We'll get Luke back, don't worry." The gambler licks his lips a moment, then quirks an eyebrow as he notices two things at the same time. The first is the death clutch that Shenner has taken on her pendant, the other being his uncounscious use of the word 'we'. Now, the girl risks peering over across the table, and slowly, grudgingly, she nods. "Okay," she rasps out, reaching again for the cider. Nice safe distraction: something to drink. Lando follows Shenner's example, picking up his short glass of mineral water and taking a long drink of the fluid. As soon as the water hits his tongue, he winces, and by the strength of his will, keeps himself from spraying the apparently foul tasting water all over Shenner. As he swallows the mineral water, he holds the glass up to the light, idly wondering if the Calamari had simply gone out the door and stuck the glass in one of the ponds that decorate the path leading to the restraunt. Setting the glass back on the table, and pushing it a few inches away from himself, he says, "Tell me more about this Horansi... Sinjon. Is he still around?" "Nah," the girl replies, more steadily this time, somewhat less hoarsely; she's perhaps getting her composure back, with the change in the conversation. "He had to leave.... business. I guess he's off doin'.... whatever Jedi do." Lando sighs before saying, "He'd be pretty handy in the rescue, I'm sure." He shakes his head, and begins reaching for the glass of water once more before rmembering how bad it is. "Yeah, I guess.... if I'da known, I'da told him," Shen says, managing a faint crooked smile. "So, uh.... what happens next? I mean, I guess everybody's goin' nuts tryin' to get him back...?" She shifts restlessly in her seat, and adds in a mutter, "I guess I ain't surprised Mon Mothma didn't tell me anything." "Next, we try and find out where Luke is being held," Lando says, in a very matter-of-fact tone. He continues, "I'm hoping Mon Mothma has received some intelligence." Inwardly, Shen finds herself thinking, _I'm gonna hate myself for this, this is what got me into trouble before in the first place. But..._ Her mouth quirks, not quite a smile, not quite a smirk. Once more trying to sound casual, but this time doing a far better job, the young musician asks, "Anything I can do?" As she speaks, the girl's grip on her pendant begins to relax, until it is merely dangling loosely from her fingers. _Good question_, Lando thinks to himself, his gaze momentarilly flicking to the pendant around Shenner's neck that she'd so recently been clutching. He open his mouth to ask about it, but thinks better of it at the last moment, saying instead, "I don't really know, to tell you the truth. Whatever we do is going to be dependent on where the Empire is holding him." That's probably -- no, that's definitely disappointment in the girl's eyes. She nods again, blows out a sigh, and slugs down another gulp of her cider. "That's a whole helluva lot of space," she agrees, her sage tone slightly jarring against those youthful features of hers. Lando picks up the glass of mineral water again, a sign that he's at something of a loss for words and simply doing something to occupy his hands. Wisely, he doesn't drink anymore of the water... he simply sits with the fluid in front of him, letting the ripple on the surface of the water move before his eyes in a hypnotic fashion. It's then that another recent memory surfaces, suddenly and startling. He sets the glass down and says, looking into Shenner's face, "Have you seen Leia lately, or spoken with her?" That gives the young woman pause. For an instant, she nibbles at her lower lip -- which emphasizes her youth, too, though it would probably embarrass her to no end to admit it. Then she shakes her head. "No... I... was... thinkin' about whether I oughtta talk to any of y'all... I mean, anybody who was on Palanhi... when I saw the _Falcon_, ya know?" Lando says, slowly, as if still working some sort of puzzle out in his head, "Leia told me something about where she.. well.. 'saw' Luke. She mentioned something about a tower. Do you know of any Imperial worlds with towers that would strike Leia as significant?" This, too, appears to startle Shenner. She hesitates, then finally admits, "Uh, well, I can't help ya there. For one thing, I ain't set foot on any real Imperial worlds -- unless you wanna count Belsavis -- and for another thing, I bet you know Princess Leia a whole helluva lot better 'n' I do." Lando says, "Hmm. I've spent a great deal of time avoiding Imperial worlds myself. As for Leia... well, I haven't really seen that much of her since I started that project on Nkllon." _And it usually takes a woman to understand another woman_, Lando thinks quietly, bringing forth an impish smile. Shenner snorts, audibly, leaning back in her chair; it makes her resemble much of the low-lifes who tend to frequent places like Mos Eisley. "You're still -- well, friends with her, right? C'mon, pal, you're a gen -- okay, ex-general, I'm a street rat, I think you're in a better position to have clues about what a princess is gonna find significant, ya know?" she drawls. "Maybe," Lando concedes. He looks into the Shenner's green eyes once more, feeling that same feeling of relief that he'd felt before and had associated to the reality and open honesty that Shenner seems to wear so easilly. He says, "I suppose that really, the only one that would know what Leia finds significant is Leia herself. Well, maybe Han would know something, but only if the princess talked in her sleep." The girl smiles half-heartedly; Lando Calrissian might toss the names of Han Solo and Princess Leia around without thinking, but Shenner still throws off the subtle signs of a grubby street urchin finding herself suddenly rubbing elbows with royalty. She also blushes -- the implications of Calrissian's last statement not lost on her. "Maybe you better talk to the Princess and General Solo then?" she suggests gruffly, inhaling the last of her cider. Bec enters the restaurant, nodding quickly at the doorman. Bec has arrived. Lando nods slowly, his eyes dropping to the nasty mineral water in front of him before he says, "I need to. I was going to look them up right after looking up Mon Mothma and briefing her on what happened with-... with the escape from KOS Lieutenant Ga'lec and I just wnet through." The redheaded girl seems to realize she's started slouching, and sits up again; she starts fiddling with the ocarina at her neck this time, rather than the silver-and-brass ring of a pendant. "Escape?" she echoes, her pale brow crinkling. "From Kichnar?" Lando and Shenner are sitting at a quiet table, that's situated somwhere between the center of the room and a window that looks out to the North. It's a nice enough table, but it's position in the room offers no real benefit in viewing people coming or going as would a good corner table. Lando leans forward at Shnner's question, and explains, "While gathering up some information in Caspar space, several Imperial ships entered the system. We were pretty well stuck, and it was by pure luck that we were able to get away without getting noticed." Bec steps in from the street outside, pausing for just a moment by the door for a brief conversation with the maitre'd. From the quick exchange, cordial smiles and obvious gestures, it's clearly nothing but a simple social pleasantry of the lieutenant indicating his intent to work at the bar rather than sit at a table. He heads in that direction. [Lando's player had to disconnect, so in order that Shen and Bec could continue the scene, we assume that Lando had to get called away IC....] Aware that the attendant at the door is watching her, Shen keeps as steady a smile as she can manage, and holds it in place until Lando Calrissian is safely out the door. Only when the man has departed does she seem to sag in a bit of relief... at least until her hand flies to her shoulder. _Damn, my flutes..._ The young redhead turns to the attendant, and blurts out in her best casual tone, "Left my flutes at the table, if ya don't mind, pal....?" Given a cool nod, the young redhead ventures back into the restaurant, back to the table she'd been sharing with Calrissian. After setting a soft black satchel atop the bar, Bec was just hopping up to sit at one of the vacant places when the familiar sweep of a brocade-lined cloak caught his eye at the door. Swivelling the stool back out from it's spot against the bar, he hopped down just in time to see Lando exit the restaurant. But when the redhead who'd been at his side starts back for a table, Bec grabs his satchel and sets forth on an intercept course. "Hey," he calls, as he gets close enough to do so politely. "Wait a moment?" The girl -- a slender redheaded youngster, clad in fairly old-looking if still passably decent garb -- pivots around, dark red brows crooking over green eyes. There's a silver-and-brass pendant in a ring shape around her neck, along with a shell-shaped ocarina, in pale, dull hues. "Huh? You talkin' to me?" Bec's smile is reflexive and nearly blinding, when coupled with the glare from his blue-mirrored glasses. "Yeah," he says, coming to a halt beside the young girl. "Sorry to startle you. You were with Captain Calrissian, weren't you? Did he say where he was headed?" As an afterthought, to establish his credibility, he adds, "My names Bec, er... Lieutenant Ga'lec. I'm supposed to join Lando for a briefing with Mon Mothma." Ga'lec. Oh. Green eyes flicker in what's probably recognition. "Yeah," she says, tone amiable enough, slightly hesitant, or else slightly wary. "He mentioned you. I think he's gonna go talk to Princess Leia or maybe General Solo." Her green eyes crinkle up a bit at that blinding grin and the glasses -- that might be what's making her wary. Bec's shoulders reflexively straighten just a bit at the mention of two Heroes of the Rebellion, as he inclines his chin in recognition of the reply. The overall result is to give the lieutenant even more of the carriage of a recruitment poster image, despite the fact that he's still out of uniform. "I see," he says, cocky smile still firmly in place. "Well, I wouldn't want to bring down the average rank in that room by showing up. Thanks. Oh... I don't suppose he mention the briefing is, or even if he did, I guess I probably ought to find out through official channels, since I don't even know who you are, after all." He pokes out a hand, abruptly, to append his earlier introduction. "I really ought to remember my manners," he laments. _That makes two of us,_ Shen thinks sheepishly. She thrusts out a hand without much in the way of daintiness, taking and shaking the offered one; her grip is firm, despite the small size of her hand. She smiles crookedly, and yields to the impulse to voice her thought. "That makes two of us. My name's Shenneret Veery." Shenner appends, "I go by Shenner." While Shenner is clarifying her name, Bec is lifting her smallish hand to his lips, in order to brush the back of her knuckles with the breeze of a kiss. He really has been spending too much time with Lando. "A pleasure, Shenner," he declares, releasing her hand. If she reacts better then Princess Leia did to the gesture, she'll blush and smile prettily; of worse, she'll likely rub her hand against her clothing. The lieutenant has gotten both responses, and from females more mature than the one in front of him now. Luckily, his ego is as elastic as the thought process which bounces him off to a new topic. "That's a smart-looking pendant," says the a la mode officer. "Unusual." This silver pendant looks something like a large, heavy ring intended for a male human hand, one half of its outer rim patterned with leaves, the other marked with small letters. Banded around the whole thing is a brass circle of metal, making a ring within a ring, set into the center and can swivel around. There is also a small knob on the side of the ring with the letters, and a tiny hole in the knob that allows light to shine through to the inside of the ring. On the ring's inside, along the inner track where the leaves are, are numbers. Finally, another inner circle, also made of brass and bearing letters on one side and numbers on the other, is affixed within the ring, and appears as if it should pivot to create an inner circle perpendicular to the outer; however, it does not appear to be moveable. Shen neither blushes, nor smiles prettily, nor wipes her hand on her clothing; she _does_ stare, as if the lieutenant's little gesture has just startled her deeply. _Uhhh.... oh man.... he better not be Corellian...._ Thrown off guard by the sudden topic change, too, the hand that'd been kissed flicks to the pendant, which she unconsciously grasps, while she answers gruffly, "Uh. Thanks." Her gaze flicks off to the table where she'd been sitting before, and she finds herself not quite sure whether it's due to the urge to map out an escape route or simply to make sure her flute bag is still there. The multicolored reflection of light on the rims of Bec's glasses changes hue and pattern just slightly as he turns his head to follow Shenner's gaze toward the table. The unconsciously less-humble side of the dashing young pilot is under the impression that whatever's there, it has to be interesting, since it diverted the girl's eyes from his fascinating self. Luckily, that portion of Bec's personality is a vestige of his previous life as a playboy, and the remnant is shrinking every day. There's enough of it left for him to wonder at the thrill of the small bag in the booth, however. Brow furrowed, he tries to regain the conversational thread. "So... It's really a ring, isn't it? Boyfriend?" What can be seen of the bag in question indicates that it's long and slender, crafted from black suede. The redheaded girl, however, abruptly jolts at the question from the young man before her; brief and fleeting though it is, that's unmistakable alarm that flashes across those green eyes. Before Shenner can think of any other response, she finds herself blurting, "Uh... 'scuse me a minute, will ya? I gotta get my flutes." She just barely manages to avoid breaking into a run as she traverses the rest of the distance to the table to recover that suede bag. Bec's thin, sandy blonde eyebrow pops up from behind his glasses when Shenner bolts for the safety of the empty table. He'd forgotten how awkward that age was. Left to stand between the tables rather awkwardly himself, he just folds his arms over his chest and waits to see if the girl plans to return, or if he's scared her off for good. She does come back, slinging the long, slender suede bag over her shoulder, by way of a strap secured to the side. And there's hints of strain lingering somewhere under her expression, though she plasters on a steady enough smile as she asks, "So, uh, what was that you were sayin', pal?" Having long outgrown the desire to mercilessly tease young girls, Bec deflects the conversation away from the obviously disturbing issue of the necklace with a simple "Nothing important." But though he may have matured past relentless tormenting, Bec still does have a mischievous streak, and holds fimrly to the convection that nothing puts a person more at ease than casually sarcastic banter. It's why he's such an effective officer, when he bothers to report for duty, and it's what prompts him to continue with: "You can call me lieutenant, though, rather than 'pal'. Where were you raised, anyway, Veery?" Shenner is not even in the NR military, much less an officer herself -- but nevertheless, Bec Ga'lec's tone accomplishes its desired effect. Well, some of it. The unease leaves her face, to be replaced immediately by the look of someone whose hackles just went up. A smirk curls one end of her thin, pale mouth, and she fixes a challenging stare on the young man as she promptly retorts, "On the streets of Belsavis--" Just in time, she prevents herself from adding an overly sardonic emphasis to his title, as she adds, "Lieutenant." "Ah ha," says Bec, pushing his glasses closer against the bridge of his nose with one finger, before returning his arm to cross with the other across his chest. His posture is effortlessly self-assured, rather than stiff or churlish, and his smile, no longer so blinding, is simply kind. More likely than not, it's irritatingly so to someone with Shenner's current demeanor, especially when worn by someone taller and older. "Well look, Shenner. I didn't mean anything by it. You know, we Support Corps hacks are a little deranged. Too many coolant fumes. What do you say I just let you call me pal, and you let me walk you home, or wherever it is you were headed when I interrupted." Shenner pauses, in what had been about to turn into a stalk to the door. She eyes the young officer askance, her mouth drawing into a short line in reaction to that shift in the man's look. Two beats pass in which the girl wrestles with her instincts; finally, grudgingly, she relents, "Okay." Her voice comes out of her quite gruffly. "This place ain't my style anyway." Bec starts to crook an elbow in Shenner's direction, as his mother always taught him to do when escorting young ladies of any age tall enough to reach his arm without stretching. He thinks better of it, though, when the girl adds her gruff commentary on the restuarant, and simple gestures for her to lead the way. Shen shows no sign of reaching for Ga'lec's arm, either. In unconscious reflex, her hand returns to the pendant, fiddling restlessly with it, as she bobs her red braided head and edges her way back through the restaurant, and out the door. You wait for the doorman to open the door and you step out onto the street. (Did you remember to leave a tip?) Calamari Coral City -- South Coral Avenue -=-=-=-=-=<>=-=-=-=-=- leads to The Rusty Urchin Restaurant. leads to Calamari Coral City - Coral City Square. [Shen takes a bit of time to convince Bec to merely leave her alone on South Coral Avenue rather than walking her all the way back to the flat Sinjon has secured for her use, feeling somehow uncomfortable about letting a stranger near a place she's come to think of as a private refuge. So, she distracts herself in a bookstore, until the Lieutenant has gone on about his business, and then....] Walking with a brisk pace, Lando's cloak billows out not quite behind him, and in just such a way as to be a nuisance to the gambler. Apparently, it's just one more thing to put the tall, dark skinned man in bad sorts, as the scowl on his face would suggest that whatever he had to run off for was something unpleasant. As he walks, his eyes are cast upon the ground before him, hardly seeing anyone or anything else in the area. _Thought he'd never go -away-,_ Shenneret Veery grumps to herself, peeking out at last from the bookstore to which she'd let Bec Ga'lec escort her. Wondering who'd decreed that the only NR personnel on Calamari with whom she was allowed to have street conversations with would be males trying to be charming to her, the girl clutches her newly purchased prizes -- a few holobooks, some of them necessary reading and some of them decidedly not, depending on your literay point of view -- and swings a wary gaze up and down the street. No lieutenants? No lieutenants. Good. Off she goes. With his eyes on the ground before him, it's only natural that he'd completely miss any individual that should happen to pop out of the shadows... or in this case, the bookstore aroung the corner and along his path. By foul fortune, Shenner chose exactly the right... or rather, wrong... moment to leap out and be on her marry way, as Lando collides with the young woman, his break-neck pace spilling himself and several holobooks in an untidy mess all over the street. As if the maker wanted to kick him while he was down, a gust of wind picks up his cloak, pulling it over his head as he sprawls. "Ah, karkin' _hells_...!" _Musical Theory of Humanoid Species I_ goes flying to the left, _Basic Astronomy_ and _Overview of Galactic History_ drop to the right, and a fourth holodisc, something with a vividly colored jacket and a picture of someone decidedly handsome and roguish-looking sails right past Calrissian. Aghast, Shenner howls, "My _discs_, watch where you're go--ah hell, never mind, my fault--" Her young features twisted up in a grimace, the girl momentarily hesitates between retrieiving her property and moving to the assistance of the unfortunate sentient with whom she's collided; something in the way of manners wins out, and only then does she recognize the man in question. "Uh, General Cal--er. Lando. Shit, I'm sorry..!" Arms move beneath the cloak covering his face in a wild, panicky motion before Shenner begins assisting the fallen gambler. He's unhurt, except for his pride of course, and so is immediately ready to berate whoever it was he stumbled over in his huff. As Shenner speaks to him, and gets his cloak off of his face, Lando's rage and foul mood begin to melt away a bit. He looks at a few of the spilled discs, and actually manages a small laugh before saying, "No no... my fault. I'm the one that should be sorry. Are you okay?" "Me? Oh, kark yeah, no problem--" Still, Shen looks just a trifle rattled, as she glances hastily about for the fallen discs; the first one she spots is the Astronomy one, which she snatches up off the walkway, before turning to look for the rest. She's still, or perhaps once more, has her flute bag slung off one shoulder, but appears to have nothing else to carry the discs in. The history book and the... trashy romance?!?... books are within Lando's reach as he starts to get up, so he picks them up with the care, not wanting to damage them any more than he already has. He gives the "book" with the picture of the man on it a cursory glance before putting the history disk on top of it. He offers them both to Shenner, saying, "Here you go." That vividly hued holodisc cover, upon a closer glance, might be noted to sport the title _Thane Grayson and the Pirates of Carthizon III_, in Basic, Twi'lek, and Corellian; that rogueish fellow can be noted to sport unkempt light brown hair, a five-o'clock shadow, and a cocky, lopsided grin. "Thanks," the girl blurts, grabbing the math disc up in a sweep that carries her forward to seize the two discs from Lando. "Uh, new reading material. I gotta study s'more." "Admirable venture," Lando comments, brushing dust from his pants and straightening the his collar. He asks, "Taking any business courses? Perhaps some studies in statistics?" Shen sneaks a green glance down at the disks, surreptitiously (or so she probably believes) slips Thane Grayson and his pirates to the bottom of the stack, and then hides the whole handful behind her. In as casual a tone as possible, she proclaims, "Well, I just got certified for havin' the equivalent of a secondary-level education, so now I can think about college or somethin', but I gotta think a bit first. Y'see." Lando nods, "I see." A quick glance to south, toward the restraunt they'd give patronage to earlier, then he continues, "I wasn't able to get in to see Mon Mothma today. I was told that she's unavailable, no further explanation. I think my next course of action will be to look up Han and Leia, though I'm not sure where they'll be staying." "Well, uh. I can't exactly help ya there, either." Shen smiles crookedly. The back of her mind snidely puts in, _Yeah, you don't exactly keep track of where Princesses and generals hang out, what would you know?_ On the other hand, Calrissian's tone, with its suggestion that even if she doesn't exactly have much of an impact of his actions, it's _okay_, is somehow subtly bracing, and it makes her grin more genuine. "I know the Princess didn't hang out in the barracks when, well, when everybody came here from Palanhi before. If she's here, guess she'd be wherever -- they live when they're here, huh?" Lando rubs his chin thoughtfully, then snaps his fingers, saying, "Now that you mention, I do think they have an apartment here." Brown eyes move away from Shenner's emerald gaze, back toward the north and where the _Falcon_ and _Lady Luck_ are docked. He says, "Well, I suppose I should let you get back to your studies. Where are you staying these days?" _Perhaps we can get together and remenisce, or go rescue wayward Jedi_, Lando thinks, the corners of his lips quirking into an impish smile. Her chin lifts up, perhaps unconsciously; it's a gesture of pride and confidence. "I got me a place, for now; it's in this district, I can walk there from here." "Is that where you're headed now? Perhaps you'll let me walk you home?" he asks, offering his arm as he'd done at the landing area. Again with the arm thing! Shen manages to hide her slight bemusement, even as Lando Calrissian demonstrates to her yet again that he's something of an alien being to her. Grinning faintly, she shrugs, managing to slip her disks over into the crook of one arm while hiding the fetchingly grinning visage lurking on the bottom of the stack; then she takes the proffered arm. "I dunno, I was kinda thinkin' about the Gardens, or the Briny Deep, just in case anybody showed up there I could jam with." Well, okay, mostly she was just waiting for that young lieutenant to make himself scarce, but Calrissian doesn't need to know that. Lando, naturally, doesn't suspect anything out of the ordinary in his gesture to escort the young woman. Let's face it... he's escorted more women (and possibly a man, though his suspicions were never confirmed about that) in this fashion than he can remember. He says, his smooth baritone cordial, "The gardens, then. Perhaps we might find Leia and her pirate husband there, too. The Gardens are truly a sight this time of year." The girl snickers, and abruptly grins broadly, even as she nods her agreement to Calrissian's suggestion. "If General Solo has half the rep that gets sung about, he and the Princess wouldn't be lookin' at no gardens." Then she coughs. "Um. Don't tell him I said that." [And with that, the respectable businessman and the street bard, an unlikely but nevertheless amused pair of companions, wander off for a conversation... but end the log.]