RPlog:Chanti at a swoop race

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==================================================================                    Caspian Weather Update - Plaxton City

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================================================================== TIME: 12:04 am SUNRISE AT: 06:31 am SUNSET AT: 06:21 pm CURRENT TEMPATURE: -15 Degrees CURRENT CONDITIONS: SNOW

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Athena: A young female human wearing a simple white combination of a long and widely cutted plain jacket and fitting white trousers which don't reveal much of the outline of the woman's body. There is only an elegance visible as the woman walks cat-like on her flat white shoes. The woman has got short, black hair barely framing her smooth, oval face. She has a small nice nose and her thin red lips showing mostly a friendly smile. There isn't any additional patch, jewlery or anything else except a small golden crest fixed to the jacket's collar showing a tiny flying dragon. Above the white combination the woman wears a much thicker white cloak, protecting her from the cold weather. On the back of the cloak is another dragon, but this time embroidered with golden silk into the expensive cloth, showing a flying Coruscantian Dragon. On the right hand of the woman is a small golden ring with glimmering diamonds placed around it.

-=-=-=-=-=-=<>=-=-=-=-=-=- => Galactic Standard Bank Card

Marin Mountain Resort Far from the hum of the capital city of Plaxton, across the sea and to the north of the ancient city of Noques Rasala, this vacation spot serves Caspians all year round. In winter, skiing, snowboarding and sledding of the repulsor variety combine with cozy lodge surroundings and fine dining to make this an ideal getaway. Mostly vacant during the rainy spring season, in summer camping, carmteek riding, fishing, swimming and boating on Lukhas Lake are enjoyed. Swoop racing has recently joined the line up and can be found during any season. The lodge is a large, sprawling affair of breezepine log construction and filled with Sarian arts and craft decor. Of particular note is the collection of mythically themed tapestries perpetually on display in the lobby. The lake sits between the lodge and the mountain. The base of the craggy peak is surrounded by dense breezepine forest. -=-=-=-=-=-=<>=-=-=-=-=-=- => Roi => Dueling_Arena => Carmtek_Race_Track => Leaderboard -=-=-=-=-=<>=-=-=-=-=- asohav Lodge leads to Casohav Lodge - Marin Mountain Resort. ate leads to Staging Area -- Marin Mountain Resort Swoop Track. ectator Seating leads to Spectator Seating -- Marin Mountain Resort. emple Clearing leads to Casohav Temple Clearing - Noques Rasla.

Roi Roi is a large man who wears a non-descript blue jumpsuit with a tool belt slung around his waist. Swoop grease colors his hands even when clean. He has silver hair and a receding hairline. His round face has no facial hair, only a faint white stubble. Kind blue eyes shine forth and he speaks with a quiet and gentle voice.

Leaderboard

A vidscreen displaying the final SRU scores from the most recent GSL races, by Grade.

Grade 4

Elana Tracer, Karset, TEAM CDF                 601 SRUs Ikhisa Enb'Zik, Dreamcatcher II, TEAM IIR      589 SRUs Troy McTavish, Genesis, TEAM Privateers        588 SRUs Joshua Arands, Event Horizon, TEAM Corellia    588 SRUs Tarrin Stardiver, Kipran's Hope, TEAM FLS      547 SRUs

Grade 3

Lelila Jayespyer, Rising Star, TEAM Corellia   504 SRUs M. Selektah, Avenging Angel, Privateers        503 SRUs Kartijan Lore, The Avenger, TEAM FLS           466 SRUs Ernest Pallando, Capocet, TEAM CDF             425 SRUs Drax Rendolen, Republic Victory, TEAM IIR      399 SRUs

Grade 2

Kyiiosh Vola'm'aia, Firedancer, TEAM Corellia  320 SRUs Dem Azton, The Pride, TEAM FLS                 305 SRUs Kyyel Marrak, Sabocet, TEAM CDF                303 SRUs Kim Safir, Dzhmbd Kweevek, TEAM IIR            263 SRUs

Grade 1

Kelvis Aquatica, The Challenger, TEAM IIR      152 SRUs Kylo Madak, Quantum Eclipse, TEAM Corellia     140 SRUs

Updated 3/7/01 11:08 PM PST

Constantly update advertising along the bottom of the screen scrolls the following messages from the following racing sponsors:

Caspian Democratic Union

The Galactic Empire

Also:

Galactic Swoop League Caspian Defense Force Fine Line Spaceways Corellian Engineering Corporation

Proceeds from this race to benefit the Mersola Tracer Fund for Caspian Orphans and Refugee Children.

Marin Mountain Resort Far from the hum of the capital city of Plaxton, across the sea and to the north of the ancient city of Noques Rasala, this vacation spot serves Caspians all year round. In winter, skiing, snowboarding and sledding of the repulsor variety combine with cozy lodge surroundings and fine dining to make this an ideal getaway. Mostly vacant during the rainy spring season, in summer camping, carmteek riding, fishing, swimming and boating on Lukhas Lake are enjoyed. Swoop racing has recently joined the line up and can be found during any season. The lodge is a large, sprawling affair of breezepine log construction and filled with Sarian arts and craft decor. Of particular note is the collection of mythically themed tapestries perpetually on display in the lobby. The lake sits between the lodge and the mountain. The base of the craggy peak is surrounded by dense breezepine forest. -=-=-=-=-=-=<>=-=-=-=-=-=- => Roi => Dueling_Arena => Carmtek_Race_Track => Leaderboard -=-=-=-=-=<>=-=-=-=-=- asohav Lodge leads to Casohav Lodge - Marin Mountain Resort. ate leads to Staging Area -- Marin Mountain Resort Swoop Track. ectator Seating leads to Spectator Seating -- Marin Mountain Resort. emple Clearing leads to Casohav Temple Clearing - Noques Rasla.

You enter the stands.

Spectator Seating -- Marin Mountain Resort The seating area for general public viewing of swoop races consists of a large amount of seating risers. Set on a platform one story above the sloped ground, they're kept comfortable under a series of immense heated tents. The tents are open on three sides with only the rear side affording any protection from the winds. Below the tents are the VIP chalets which are basically also tents, but more luxurious and with comfortable seating. The chalets also have a service bar every other tent and are only open on the front side. From all areas large vid screens follow the racers throughout the course and hand-held viewers can be rented from several stationary and wandering vendors.

To see what's on the viewscreens type LOOK COURSE. -=-=-=-=-=-=<>=-=-=-=-=-=- => Zeak => Johanna -=-=-=-=-=<>=-=-=-=-=- ut leads to Marin Mountain Resort.

Zeak A young 'caucasian' male human standing about 5'11" high and of average build. His cleanly shaven, round 'baby' face is topped by short black hair, cut in the classical military style, and houses a small nose and chubby cheeks, with a pair of archaic wire framed 'aviator' sunglasses covering his eyes. His face has a young jovial look to it, albeit signs of a hard life in the form of creases on his brow and the corners of is eyes have begun to form. While most would still consider him cute, if it weren't for the premature aging brought on by the responsibilities of command, he would most likely still get 'carded' often.       He is wearing an odd black suit. The jacket is a heavy synthetic fabric, banded collar jacket that buttons up the front. It's tail is split in the back bellow the waist, laying on the man's form much like a 'duster' of old. A dark gray shirt, also with a banded collar sits underneath, it's buttons recessed under a flap, such that it's front looks uniform. The pants, made from a synthetic fabric, are of the normal dress style, fastening together with hidden clasp; suspenders which are hidden beneath the jacket hold the pants up. Just sticking out from under his trousers are a pair of well polished black boots, tying the man's dark ensemble together. Over top a long flowing black overcoat is worn. It hangs like a cape, off the shoulders, with the man's arms hiding, or peaking out from underneath it, leaving the coat's arms falling empty to the sides. -=-=-=-=-=-=<<Carried Virtual Objects>>=-=-=-=-=-=- => Advanced Comlink <Y1088>

Johanna

Though she's not much to look at thanks to the stern, hard lines that have begun to settle around her eyes and mouth, Johanna is nonetheless a clean and presentable young woman of no more than twenty-one years. Her dark hair is neatly brushed back into a ponytail and a few silver clips work to keep any possibly wayward strands in place. As is customary among her people, she wears no makeup of any kind. Her eyes are obsidian enough as to be slightly startling when viewed in contrast to the milky color of her skin. Currently she wears a comfortable-looking pair of black leather trousers that have seen better days. A tan colored knit shirt, the sleeves just a bit too long, hangs loosely over the trousers. Over the ensemble is a battered grey duster that reaches past her knees to the tops of the scuffed work boots that cover her feet. Holstered at her side, partly concealed by the droopiness of the shirt and the manner in which she stoops instead of carrying her 1.7 meter frame upright, is a DL-44 blaster. -=-=-=-=-=-=<<Carried Virtual Objects>>=-=-=-=-=-=- => Shuttle Ticket => Protective Vest <Worn> => DY-255 Heavy Blaster Pistol

You look up to the stands and see...

Section Eight - Olum's Fire Finale After careening across the lake the racers are faced with another choice. Three ramps are built just before the finish line. To the right and the left a simple holo-projection of a flaming hoop spinning in the air above the spectator stands. At center, the real thing. Heating up this cold, cold race's finale is a serious flame jump. The rotating frame sometimes catches the wind as it howls down from Marin Mountain sending tendrils and licks towards swoops and riders who dare to make a firey finish at the mercy of the Sarian hell-god's whims.

Hard - Difficulty: 25 manuever, 20 flame avoidance, +30 SRU bonus Easy - Difficulty: 15 manuever Contents: SWOOP: CASE S-6c Akula -- Capocet SWOOP: Ubrikkian Phantom-Q -- Nova Flare SwoopRaceMan

From the Raceway -- Gorian Ingsa is badly scorched by the flame, but has enough stamina to push himself through to the end of the race. It appears to slow him down slightly, but he hopes to still get the bonus.

In his average business suit, Zeak Oppenhiemer, retired warlord of Bacharan Valak, now a nobody scum-merc pimp/consultant/talking head stand at the back, waiting in the crowd, watching for something. Under his arm a racers program has been folded and slipped like a newspaper. On it the bios of all the racers, and their teams is recorded for fan edification, and betting purposes, depending on the aims of the reader. (repose) From the Raceway -- Well the lake at least was no problem Iced over and solid all ready this early in the year. Pallando can see the finish line He keeps his bike straight and true like his morals and goes for the center harder path and the real flame. At least he'd make a good showing for the crowds. He keeps caposet in over thrust daring all for final victory.

From the Raceway -- SWOOP: CASE S-6c Akula -- Capocet shifts gears and provides: Manuvering           Velocity 4                   41 From the Raceway -- SWOOP: Ubrikkian Phantom-Q -- Nova Flare shifts gears and provides: Manuvering           Velocity 1                   18

Athena enters the spectator area, her hands deeply hidding in her thick cloak against the cold air. Athena curiously looks around for a fine free place to watch the race, which currently goes. Seeing just two other guests she smirks entering a heated tent, sitting down just on its rear side to get at least a little bit protection against the cold air, while she watchs the race and its spectators.

From the Raceway -- SWOOP: CASE S-6c Akula -- Capocet And its through the ringer dead center for Pallando and his Akula bike. He roars over the finish line and cuts the turbo jets letting the repulsors thrum as he strips helmet to wave triumphantly to the crowd.

From the Raceway -- "Wow! Ernie Pallando really pulled it out on that one. He takes his G3 to a final score of 546 SRUs setting a standard for that division. Meanwhile, poor Gorian Ingsa...he's gonna be glad it's cold they way he got torched. He suffers a loss of bonus and a bit of skin with it, only garnering 254 SRUs for his final score. The promoters at Marin Mountain would like to thank our sponsors. The Caspar Democratic Union, the Galactic Empire and the Corporate Sector Authority working together to bring peace to the galaxy. And corporate partners KDY-SFS, RepulsorSports Inc. and the Corellian Engineering Corporation. Goodnight and we'll see you back here on the slopes tomorrow. Enjoy the resort's many nighttime social opportunities, especially since the races don't start too early!"

From the Raceway -- Pallando dismounts SWOOP: CASE S-6c Akula -- Capocet. From the Raceway -- Pallando has arrived. From the Raceway -- Tag_2 has arrived. From the Raceway -- Pallando drops Tag_2. From the Raceway -- Pallando has left. From the Raceway -- Pallando mounts SWOOP: CASE S-6c Akula -- Capocet. Quite a noise to be had here, wasn't there? These were the races after all. Noisier than most events, certainly more disruptive than a simple sortie out in space, where there was no sound. With a sigh the pilot wanders through the beings that always seemed to mill about one another with an annoying regularity. What was it with this need to be together? Were they all sick in their respective heads? Well. Maybe. But that wasn't the point, was it...       No, it wasn't. She had made her way here to meet someone. And there he is. Wordlessly she meanders into his vicinity and hopes she can be seen amongst the others. From the Raceway -- SWOOP: CASE S-6c Akula -- Capocet leaves the race course. From the Raceway -- SWOOP: CASE S-6c Akula -- Capocet has left. From the Raceway -- Gorian dismounts SWOOP: Ubrikkian Phantom-Q -- Nova Flare. From the Raceway -- Gorian has arrived. From the Raceway -- Tag_2 has left. From the Raceway -- SwoopRaceMan takes Tag_2. From the Raceway -- SwoopRaceMan leaves the race course. From the Raceway -- SwoopRaceMan has left. From the Raceway -- Tag_1 has arrived. From the Raceway -- Gorian drops Tag_1. From the Raceway -- Gorian has left. From the Raceway -- Gorian mounts SWOOP: Ubrikkian Phantom-Q -- Nova Flare. From the Raceway -- SWOOP: Ubrikkian Phantom-Q -- Nova Flare leaves the race course. From the Raceway -- SWOOP: Ubrikkian Phantom-Q -- Nova Flare has left. From the Raceway -- SwoopRaceMan enters the race course. From the Raceway -- SwoopRaceMan has arrived.

Athena standas up from ther seat, removes the glove of her right hand, bringing two fingers to her mouth and whistles loud "Wow... fine race!" she calls from the spectators stand.

From the Raceway -- Tag_1 has left. From the Raceway -- SwoopRaceMan takes Tag_1. From the Raceway -- SwoopRaceMan has disconnected.

Athena turns around to leave her tent and moves to the exit, wanting to greet the pilots in the stand.

Athena leaves slowly her tent and moves to the front, resting her ellbows on the handrails while she watches the race lane, curiously whether she can see any familiar faces.

From the Raceway -- Gorian enters the race course. From the Raceway -- Gorian has arrived. From the Raceway -- Gorian leaves the race course. From the Raceway -- Gorian has left.

You look up to the stands and see...

Section Eight - Olum's Fire Finale After careening across the lake the racers are faced with another choice. Three ramps are built just before the finish line. To the right and the left a simple holo-projection of a flaming hoop spinning in the air above the spectator stands. At center, the real thing. Heating up this cold, cold race's finale is a serious flame jump. The rotating frame sometimes catches the wind as it howls down from Marin Mountain sending tendrils and licks towards swoops and riders who dare to make a firey finish at the mercy of the Sarian hell-god's whims.

Hard - Difficulty: 25 manuever, 20 flame avoidance, +30 SRU bonus Easy - Difficulty: 15 manuever

And then, smoothly, as if it were his life's work, Zeak slips silently into the crowd like an alligator would slip into the water while stalking it's prey. Slowly the dark suited man moves closer and closer to Johanna, working through the crowed assembled as if it were a light fluid, avoiding him. When he gets closer, a pair of flexible titainium wire framed sunglasses, an archaic affectation, are produced from the inside jacket pocket and slid effortlessly on to his face - he's ready for the kill. After a quick check to his left, and then to his right, the silent businessman-predator moves in approaching Johanna from the front, inside a clump of people. As they arrive the clump breaks up to disperse in front of Johanna, only to reveal the long dark suit, and the black leather gloved hands of Oppenhiemer. His face bears the lopsided smirk that was once his trademark; his hands quietly tap the racing program like a sap, right hand holding the base, left hand open to catch it. If only there were fog. ..

Athena just stares at the race lane, not caring for other persons around so far. Her hands are again stored deeply into the pockets of her cloak. But after a few minutes she wasn't able to spot at least one face she knows, Athy sighs, producing a white cloud of warm air right before her mouth as she turns around and looks at the crowd, not searching for somebody special, but only enjoying the mass of peoples around her, a few with happy faces, which bet on the winner, some with more sad faces. Yeah, he appears all right, in that strange way he has of randomly showing up anywhere he pleases. She purses her lips and eyes him with something akin to disdain as the wind blows a chill through her already tired bones. "Well," Johanna begins, shifting slowly from one side to the other, not wanting to remain rooted to her spot lest she freeze over quite, "Hell of a place to conduct business, wouldn't you say?" Cold weather. It just wasn't right. Winds were supposed to be hot and dry, not cold and wet. This whole world with its rain and snow and seas reverberated with a kind of perverted energy that gave her the creeps.

"I miss the cold myself," the dark Zeak Oppenhiemer replies. "besides we go where we can, not where we want to." At this Zeak pauses for a second, his grin growing wider before he replies, "Don't tell me you don't like snow covered mountains in the middle of virtual blizzards?" Athena brushes fromtime to time the newly fallen snow from her shoulders as she stamps with her boots on the same place where she stands, trying to get her frozen toes again. Athena sneezes and sighs, not being very happy about the weather, too.

"Snow, or whatever you call it, is not natural," the pilot gripes, "Furthermore it's unpleasant and dangerous to be standing outside here in the cold. Mind you, I'm not built for this kind of climate. I'm fixing to fall over in the next two minutes." She chews on her lower lip for a moment. "Anyway. What's the deal this time? I was able to secure most of the smaller items we'd discussed. The larger ones are proving to be a sight more difficult and I'm afraid it's become quite impossible for me to obtain them." A brief glance about the area, and her gaze rests on the woman in white who seemed to blend in so well with this sickening weather pattern. Then she looks to Zeak again.

"No detailed business here," Zeak replies as he slides the left shoulder of his overcoat off, exposing the suit jacket underneath, "and perhaps we should move you to closer to the heaters." Even though the words might express concern, it is absent in his voice. It's colder than the weather, just like normal. Athena bets she will turn into a icecube if not wandering quickly around or back into a heated tent. Back in an empty one, Athy produces a small pad and starts to look over it, reading more the fahion tipps than the news as she waits for the next race being announced. A tired looks settles across her features. "Very well," she says, "If it's all the same to you then I'll pick and choose the other items at my discretion. As you well know, the prices are steep. Quarter of a million per newly manufactured piece. Non-negotiable, I'm afraid, despite my best efforts. The go-between will not be swayed on this matter.       Argh, now her fingers were all stiff and horrid. It would take ages to warm them up, she knew this from experience the last time she'd encountered snow. Granted, Morganna had been in the picture, but anyway... the chill has saturated her and will not be shaken loose for all the movement in the world.

As Johanna begins to move, the right shoulder of Zeak's coat slips a touch, placing the collar just inside the reach of his hands. He then intentionally removes the long heavily lined garment, and slides it over Johanna's shoulders. The lining is made from the same material as the TIE pilot body gloves, and a low intensity current runs through microchannel heating fibers on the inside, giving it an ambient heat. It's less a coat and more of an exceptional electric blanket with arms - it's the type of thing the Empire makes sure it's elite officers have when the review the SnowTroopers, and one of the many perks Oppenhiemer lifted on his way out the door. Now more exposed, Zeak extends a gloved hand over Johanna's shoulder, pointing to the nearest tent, one with a white clad woman and her datapad. "Why don't you try that one, I'll be in behind you in just a second," his voice, accompanied by clouds of ice, is still cold, uncaring and unwavering, and even if he is exposed in the cold. Athena is fine so far, she is on a warm place, nobody to disturb her latest research of the current fashion of Coruscant, which she thinks most lost since being not anymore the Galactical Center. So she smirks only at a few extravagant dresses remains seated in the tent.

An exquisite sense of revulsion fills her at the weight of the coat upon her shoulders and she hurries into the tent, wanting to find some place to shed the oppressive cover. Maybe someplace to barf would work too. Yes. Barfing and hiding. And maybe decking Zeak as soon as he got here. She was sure some strange disease had just been transmitted via the fabric. Right. That had to be it. Some advanced microbial warfare against wayward Republic pilots who had the gumption to show up at some second-rate races on Caspar and consort with people who had better not be consorted with, considering their station. Good freaking grief. She suddenly wishes Cricket were here, or maybe Bazil, to make some sort of snide remark and fend off all those who would bother her. An ally. A friend. Anyone, so she wouldn't have to be alone in this most creepy of circumstances.

"Like I was saying," she finally manages, quite stiff beneath the coat, not wanting to move overmuch lest the fabric transmit more of those horrid little microbes, "A quarter of a million. What kind of capital do you have at your disposal to invest in this sort of thing?"

But he's not right there, instead, he's forty to fifty seconds behind with a pair of covered foam cups in his hands. "Hold this," he replies as he extends one toward Johanna. "Don't drink it, just let it warm your hands." "But I have some funds," Zeak continues as he moves closer to the heater, "but that is a conversation for later - regardless, there may be other sources, also another conversation for later." Athena is finally disturbed in her thought as suddenly two persons enters her tent, a woman and a man, well perhaps some lovers, she thinks by the way he brings her a warm drink. Athena sighs atthe view of the warm cup, but is still able to nod a polite greeting to the two, trying not to show too much jealousy on her face. "...other sources?" the pilot queries tersely, unnerved by the manner in which the ex-Admiral was carrying on, for it inevitably meant that he was bored, and when Zeak Oppenheimer got bored, he became dangerous in more ways than one. She tries to steer the conversation back to the details of the cash flow. "Care to share what those might be, or is it gonna be one of those covert games you like to engage in for the mere sake of seeing your opponent bested?" She shuffles about impatiently, thoroughly uncomfortable with this entire setup. "I mean, if letting me in on it will hurry things along, then by all means. I'm serious about my committment to change."

"All of life is a game," he replies as he glances over to Athena. "It's merely a matter of risks." Lovers? Doubtful, for once he is relieved of the drink Zeak keeps his distance from Johanna, and his voice cold and militaristic. "Besides, no one doubts your commitment to change Johanna," Zeak then continues, "but I am who I am, just as you are who you are."

Athena hmms and lost her interest in the fashion mag on her datapad and turns her attention to the pair, trying to put them into some frame she can fit them in. The Man, no doubt, military style, must be some ex-warrior. The Woman, no way o put her into categories, could fit everything, from some Corellian scum to some rebel spy. Athena smirks at this thought, she rests her chin on her hand, ellbows on the chair before her and watches to two, while they speak about business. Equally frosty is the Commander's reply to Zeak's last comment. "I see," she says coolly, the imperiousness of her tone denoting quite clearly whom she thought the superior in this conversation... herself, naturally. Her frank nature will not let her hide this pride born of past insecurities. "Yes, we are who we are. But the moment you find yourself regarding me as anything less than your equal in this venture is the moment you find yourself alone. Manipulate others to your heart's content, I could care less. But it stops there. I have agreed to a partnership. I am not your lackey." She shrugs off the coat and holds it out to him, her fingers still rather stiff.

"Keep it," Zeak replies, the militaristic tone softening slightly, "You'll need it yet, and I no longer do." Athena hmms and speaks up for the first time, looking at the woman, "If I would be you, I would keep the coat, it looks expensive, and he doesn't seem to care about it." she politely smiles after saying this.

Great, what was this, Oppenheimer spy central? No doubt that girl must be one of his former Intel cohorts. Johanna turns a decidedly authoritive, peevish eye to Athena, as if the other woman were one of the bothersome flight cadets back on the Chancellor. However, she says nothing to the stranger. She simply hangs the coat unceremoniously over Zeak's shoulder and offers a quiet huff of disapproval over the way the meeting had gone. "When you have some news, contact me," she mutters and then departs the tent, suddenly thankful for the stab of cold that greets her outside. At least it would keep her mind clear.

Oppenhiemer turns to watch her leave, just shaking his head, waiting till she is out of sight before throwing the coat over his shoulders. Athena sinmply shrugs her shoulders, "Must have been the color." and points to the coat, "I mean the Coat" she explains and smirks, "Next time try a white one, "I read that white is _the_ color of the season!" she grins and it isn't clear whether she is jokoing or not.

"I'm sorry," Zeak replies as he fishes a stickpin from his pocket: a simple silver pin with a white Imperial starburst on it's face. It's the sort of pin worn by members of COMPNOR and the hoards of Imperial wantobes. "I was elsewhere just then, I didn't catch anything." He then slides the pin into the coat's lapel and waits to see if the woman will repeat herself. Athena just smiles as she sees the tiny COMPNOR symbol and oooohs nodding as she recognizes it, "So far away from home?" she softly asks, "I hope you are not in need for some help?" she seriously adds, "The woman..." Athena points with her chin to the exit of the tent "didn't seem to be too dangerous?"

"It is the woman who needs the help," Zeak replies with a practiced cold smile. He pauses, before his eyes alight with a gleam just before he adds, "I'm sorry, I didn't catch your name Miss . . . .?" His tone lifts at then end, the only indication he is asking a question. Athena hmms and draws with the top of her boots another symbol into a mass of snow which came into th opening of the tent: a circle with a coilded snake in its middle, the Symbol of the BoO, The Bureau of Operations. "Help?, oh my... why should she just need some help?" but then Athena stands up and removes the glove from her right hand extending it to the man, "Where are you manners, always the man introduces himself first, But I am Lady Athena."

The man's face remains set in clam, but unwavered. "Of course," Zeak replies, as he removes his glove and takes her hand. He bows to her hand, but does not touch his lips before he rises. "And I trust I can trust you to keep this . . . interaction, you saw parts of confidential Lady Athena?" Athena shrugs with her shoulders as she slowly removes her right hand again, "Well I shall keep quiet about what? I didn't saw anything."she smiles coldly, to often wheard this line before in her life, "What you think I have seen, Mister... umm er?"

At that Zeak grins broadly, replying, "I and the empire appreciate your confidentiality nevertheless," before he pops up the collar on his jacket in preparation to leave. Athena hms and smirks not being very pleased by the wish of the man to stay incognito, so she return to the man, right before his leavin, "Well the Empire can't pay me enough to appreciate ever my works." she sighs and sits down again, turning wordless to her fashion mag on the datapad.