Disturber of Inner Peace

Solarium: Jedi Temple -- New Alderaan: Ord Mantell

This is the only room in the temple that isn't wired for illumination. Curving lazily around the back end of the temple, it seems that the entire front end of the room is nothing more than a giant sheet of transparisteel, geared toward letting in as much natural light as possible. Sunset turns the solarium into a glory of light and beauty. Blues and pinks wash over the surfaces, painting them with a palette of serenity. The clouds are dipped in purples, pinks, and greens, even a few blues by the Bright Jewel as it slips to the horizon. The Antilles Sea is brightened to an ethereal blue as the sin descends, darkening skies advancing as the terminator approaches.

The room is filled with comfortable seating for members of many races, many of which are clustered into conversation circles. Each chair or couch is set on repulsor pads that skid across the floor easily. The furniture is done in lovely shades of cool tones, such as blues and greens, with gray and silver accents. The soft sound of trickling water is always heard from the back of the room, where two fountains spill from the ceiling on either side of the corridor. Spilling from the fountains of the second level, the water flows down each wall and into pools that gather near the solarium window's edges.

The weather outside is clear. Only a few puffy, pinkish clouds spot the skyline.

-

There are a couple new faces attending the sunset's performance this evening. A woman, standing as close to the window as she can without leaving a nose print while her tired eyes watch nature's light show take place. A girl, less outwardly attentive, seemingly more concerned with the repulsor properties of her cushioned seat as she twirls it around and around and around and around...

"Gabi," Ambrosia admonishes softly under her breath with a stealthy glance around at the other quiet bodies occupying this peaceful space.

Gabi's foot pushes its last, grudgingly, and her circles slooooow to a gradual halt. Eventually. Her shoulders hunch forward, hands gripping the seat edge between her feet, chin on knees. The ultimate boredom sulk.

The room needs a coffee stand, selling all sorts of munchies and beverages along with the occasional light saber key chain for visitors--of course those are Oppenhiemer's thoughts as he glides into the room, that and a mixture of curses at being forced to come planet side. The beauty of such thoughts in the temple is of course that all nosy Jedi who pry know what he is thinking and then are forced to ponder if they should be offended -- but can they be offended, they invaded his privacy after all? That joy is most of the fun of the musing. It is not like a decade of being nice encouraged any of them to like him.

As he enters, he clasps his arms behind his back, and begins moving through the room in the classic Imperial military style. The point is not to blend in, but to stick out and rub their noses in it, ostentatiously.

"Just look at it," The Ambassador beseeches her daughter with a tired sigh. "It's so...so..."

What little concentration she herself had on the myriad of color is sidetracked by the sudden tugging on her sleeve. Looking sternly down, then aside to follow Gabi's pointing, she sees just what's become the focal point of the kid's quest for distraction. "Don't point," she hisses as only a mother can and hastily stuffs Gabi's hand back onto her knee. But the child's made up her mind and off she goes, a little mindful at least of her own noise factor as she /walks/ towards Zeak, rather than trot.

Defeated, Ambrosia casts a final look of longing to the sea beyond before following suit. Cautiously. Her eye upon the strutting Zeak is more skeptical than inviting. But a smile of serenity 'lies' upon her lips nevertheless. In this Temple, of course, she fools no one. "Mr Oppenhiemer."

"Ambassador," Oppenhiemer replies, a touch of mischief in his eye, and perhaps in the corner of his lips. He does enjoy taunting the Jedi. "It is good to see you are up and around. Johanna was a mess last I saw her."

"Is it any wonder," Ambrosia answers back without pause, but checks herself before adding what's burning on the tip of her tongue. Her chin uplifts a notch to compensate for the forced relaxation of her shoulders and spine. Looking down to Gabi, who's staring at Zeak with her own not-so-silent thoughts, she cups a hand over the girl's shoulder. "I have been 'up and around' for quite some time. At our meeting, Master Skywalker granted Gabi and I an open invitation here, to his home. The freedom to come and go, as we feel it's needed..." A gentle squeeze of her hand upon her daughter.

"Yeah," Gabi mutters quietly, looking not so grateful a this moment.

"That's nice of him, we haven't crossed paths in years - I have the feeling he avoids me - is he still seeing that padawan of his, the blonde?" Oppenhiemer replies nonchalantly.

"I haven't the foggiest idea," Ambrosia dismisses casually in turn while doing her best to ignore Gabi's puzzled squint around and up at her, "about any details of his private life. Privacy, if it exists at all in a place like this, is I'm sure hard to come by. Wouldn't do to pry."

Gabi's already lost interest in this line of conversation, having figured out it's related to gross grownup things and therefore not something she cares to know. What she /does/ care to know is, "Is Ara with you?" She directs towards Zeak while idly picking something out of her mop of shorn curls. Tiny piece of twig, it looks like. After a brief inspection between fingers, she lets it drop. S'what sanitation droids are for. Right?

"Is he interested in privacy these days? I've always known him to be the type to flaunt everything -- he could have had quite a career as a director of entertainment for a resort on Kalla. No mater - no Ara is taking a test or some other such nonsense, apparently her tutor failed classroom management," Oppenhiemer continues, "I'm here to pick her, her brother, and their tutor up for an extended trip -- I did bring some poor lost souls yearning to breathe free in with me however, I can't seem to find good smugglers these days."

"Oh," Gabi turns her stare to her shoes instead, disappointment read clearly on sleeve. It's rough, isolated by smothering guards and only-child syndrome. Well, there is Liora, but she's 'old' and off busy being an adult Doctor and such and only half her sibling anyways. *Sigh*

"Why don't you go watch the rest of the sunset? I see three other students over there about your age...maybe they'd welcome some company?" Her daughter's sorry sentiment reflects in her own eyes, despite her hopeful smile's best efforts.

Gabi regards the entirely too serene adolescents with a look that isn't too impressed, but does return to her former perch...to resume slow, wandering spins.

"Well, then." The Ambassador clasps her hands behind her back and nods to Zeak. "A vacation sounds lovely, and if its beginning has serviced other lives, well, even better! Speaking of smugglers..." Dropping her voice a notch and sparing a fleeting glance over the shoulder, she says "I did receive an interesting something from Gabi during the Gala events, and meant to thank you - I think - for it sooner, but...well. Strange happening got in the way. I'm not entirely sure I want to know how it is you came across such a curious object, or why of all nights you chose to entrust it to an eleven year old, but...thank you."

"Oh no worries, it was at an auction house on Etti -- I simply bought it. Entirely Legal on Etti, well with the exception of some documentation of course but what is paperwork between us?" It is classic Zeak in some ways, complete disregard for local laws - but then again he did spend money to return a piece of art, that might not align with the image he is painting tonight. "11 - that's old enough right Gabi? When I was 11 I was going on short training cruises on a frigate and shooting at pirates."

"...Mom just lets me shoot at targets," is Gabi's glum response. Spin...spin...

Ambrosia's eyelids drop with just a touch of annoyance. When /she/ was 11, she was scrambling about the mechanics of an Imperial factory, churning out machines of war - droids. Ergo, anything her child has been priviledged to do (or not do) is a vastly improved experience from her day, so she does not acknowledge Gabi's moping response.

"Childhood credentials aside, know that it was safely received and muchly appreciated."

But Zeak does acknowledge it, because he is Zeak - "Well you should talk your mom in to tagging along on the Oppenhiemer family vacation that Ms. Johanna has insisted on. We're taking my cruiser out for a spin; Ara, Tyler, and Brennan will be there and I'm sure we could get you some time on the big turbolaser batteries - maybe even let you take the helm for a bit - play the role of the proper midshipman - if your Mom is okay with it of course."

There are twin turbolasers warming up right now, and they're aimed squarely at the Oppenhiemer patriarch. Bolts of vivid green, firing away. The words 'that is a horrendous idea' come first to mind, possibly smushed and beamed through that glare of hers, but Ambrosia can practically /feel/ the instantaneous brightening of Gabi's mood behind her.

Damn him.

"What a generous offer," possibly, another gray hair has sprouted - just now. "I'm afraid I'm soon bound for Kashyyk. Once the finer details are ironed out. I've arranged for Gabi to stay he--"

"But Mom!?" The punky brunette whispers urgently, suddenly mindful of her voice in this quiet place, and darts off her chair to fire off a bambi-esque stare from point blank range. Complete with a beseeching stroke to her mother's sleeve. "My birthday! After last year...? Please?" Last year, she'd spent it eating snails in a cave with Leo while hiding from Thel's 'elite' force hunting them down. Before the dark Jedi arrived and almost succeeded in killing them, that is, when not plagued in her sleep by visions of her mother's own demise. Really, it was a pretty shitty few weeks. She is owed!!

"Officially we'll be exploring and laying holonet beacons," Oppenhiemer replies, perhaps trying to calm fears. "Should be fairly sedate, and the cruiser has recently been retrofitted can hold its own against anything short of a Super Star Destroyer -- the random pirates we might see will likely run in terror. We aren't leaving for a couple of months -- If the Kashyyyk situation is finally resolved, the cruiser is quite large, you bring your whole staff Ambasador and carry out business as normal from the VIP deck."

Gabi can sense she is going to win this one, with that assist from the man who'd begun this trouble, and it shows. Toothily. Playmates her own age, a star-bound vessel the size of a small city with infinite places to hide and seek and cause mayhem while hurtling through space...what could possibly be bad about that!?

Ambrosia's already tallying a list of things to fear in the forefront of her mind. "'Should be'?" she echoes, hands resting on hips. While Gabi may not resemble much of her mother, the stubborn, sideways jut of the jaw is there. She's certain Leia would be thrilled to have her gov't business conducted from Zeak Oppenhiemer's cruiser. If there's business to conduct, that is. Still awaiting clearance to return to full duty via Kashyyk. SO maybe, in two months' time, she'll just be functioning as a stay-at-home mother, anyway.

"We'll see." Ambrosia's final response makes no promises, but it's also not an outright NO. "In the meantime, looks like you'll still be enjoying Nan's company for your twelfth."

"That is a shame - Is there anything I could do to help speed the Kashyyk situation up so you could spend Gabi's birthday together?" Oppenhiemer then inquires, not letting up. "Perhaps a modest paramilitary investment to speed things along - you know a frigate, a wing or two of fighters, say three hundred or so well armored mercenaries -- all with plausible deniability for the Republic?" In short a force just short of a proper invasion, enough to put down a small insurrection on a backwater planet.

"I /will/ be available to spend that day with you," Ambrosia turns her gaze downward to Gabi's upturned face and passes a stroke through her hair in vain attempt to smooth down a wayward curl. "I promise." A little reassuring nod, then lifts a palm in motion to halt Zeak's line of thinking.

"There may come a time when additional, militant services would be welcomed to partake in an operation, but right now, we need more information. With our own eyes. Among the people. I'll be there to absorb and address the residents' concerns, while our investigative teams do what they need to do to move us forward towards the real source of the problem. As we know it is not some phasm of superstition disappearing whole villages."

"More information . . ." Oppenhiemer repeats with a sigh. "I see." Of course there is far more in that comment than is spoken -- after all the NR should know all it needs to know at this point-Zeak has made sure of it already-but here is not the place to vent about that.

"Cross-referencing. Updating..." Ambrosia shakes her head with a little eyeroll, dismissive hand flap, and sigh of her own. "I suppose it's simply confirming what we already know, courtesy of a certain source...and those who have been in the field since." Offering a tight-lipped smile, she bobs a nod farewell. "Anyhow, I'd best get this one off to our room. And won't delay you from retrieving your brood. Good night, Mr. Oppenhiemer. I'll consider your offer. S."