RPlog:Corellian Craziness

Coronet Space Port - Coronet City

This port is busy, like most, but here the hot breath of takeoff and the deep rumble of engines is closer, more of a feature of the port than an annoyance. The landing pads and small maintenance bunkers sprawl across a large open area open to the sky and surrounded by blast walls to protect the farmlands beyond. Pilots, engineers and techs, mostly natives, move among the hardware as if at home in the confusing and fast paced Port. A large complex off to the side houses control functions, transport authority offices, and the CorSec station.

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Mira

What can be seen of this woman under the large, grubby cloak that she wears isn't a whole lot. One might be able to tell that she is small and wiry, almost painfully thin. The bottom of the cloak drags on the ground, and looks frayed, as if it has been trod upon often. The hood of the dirty, dusty cloak that she wears manages to throw a shadow over most of her face, leaving it mostly obscured. A clump or two of frazzled, dark hair finds its way out of the cloak's hood to stick out at odd and unnatural angles away from her face.

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Mira was, in fact, okay, if not a little shaken up by the whole bar brawl experience. Even the very small bit she had witnessed had left her with an unsettling feeling, as if something from inside was still following her around, hovering just over her shoulder. This wasn't the first time she had felt this feeling. Nor would it likely be the last. But she felt as if putting some distance between herself and the planet may very well do wonders for making it go away.

Sitting on the ramp of the White Ghost, she peers about the spaceport, hoping that Markus would hurry along so they could leave. Hopefully he had done everything he wanted done here and would be ready to go soon. She sits, shifting her gaze between the road to the south and the Dig not too far away, knowing that he is most likely to come from one of those two place. And, indeed, moments later he appears, striding through the door of the cantina and taking off into the spaceport, as if looking for something. Rapidly losing sight of him as he weaves among the crowds and ships, Mira trots towards his last known location, near the door of the cantina, very close to Simon.

At the door, Simon gives Markus a quick nod to whatever it was he'd said, then turns and moves in a straightline toward the _White Ghost_. It was just good planning for the Corellian to go and search for Mira in this area that he was more familiar while Simon went to make sure Mira wasn't waiting at the ship. And, as per many plans, this one has a glaring hole in it. Nearly running into the more diminutive form of Mira before she's fully within his sight, Simon stops, eyebrows reaching for his hairline.

"Ahhh!" he says, spreading his hands to each side, palms toward Mira. "Now to just get Markus Lisardis..." and then the flaw in the plan becomes apparent. What exactly was he supposed to do if he did find the girl near the ship? "You do not have what is called a comlink with him, do you?" Simon says in hopeful tones.

Mira stops short as Simon comes up and starts talking to her. She had, after all, only met him the one time earlier in the spaceport. And most of what he had said to Markus, she had ignored, being too wrapped up in reading the bulletin board. And after the feeling she got from the bar, she was feeling none too friendly towards anyone emerging from therein, except perhaps Markus, as he was her very close personal friend.

So as Simon approaches, she gives him that same blank, considering stare she had given him before, her eyes narrowing into a suspicious glare the closer he gets to her. It is not until he says the name Markus Lisardis that she relaxes, reverting to the former blank look. "No, I don't," she replies. "He was going that way." She points in the general direction Markus had wandered off in.

Simon drops his hands to hang by his waist as he listens to Mira, studying her reaction to his presence as much as trying to figure out what they should do while Markus is off searching for Mira. There were those _Selas_ that had descended in their depravity to actually touch other people's minds... but Simon would not willingly succumb to that sin.

"We should stay here, then," Simon says, turning his gaze around the starport, looking first in the direction Mira indicated, then moving out from there. "When one is lost in the woods, it is best to remain still so those searching for you can find you. This is not the woods, but the buildings serve in much the same way."

Nodding slowly, Mira turns to look out at the spaceport, surveying the crowds for any sign of Markus. But she sees no sign of him. She tosses Simon an inquisitive look, not entirely sure how buildings could be considered trees, but nods anyway. And they called her crazy. But she stays near him, feeling that she didn't have a lot to lose my trusting him. The girl manages to stay still for a full minute before she begins to shift her weight back and forth impatienltly and sighing heavily every fifteen seconds. Finally, after several more minutes, she is unable to stand just standing and waiting any longer. Cupping her hands over her mouth she yells, MAAAARRRRKKUUUUUUSS!" at the top of her lungs, hoping he will here her. Tossing a smile over to Simon she says, "Kind of like a comlink.."

Markus, who all this time had been lost in the spaceport looking for Mira, returns into view with a very frightful expression on his face. How could he have lost her? Where was she? Was she alright? He sighed, shaking his head. "I'm worrying too much. She has done a good job of watching overself for some time now. She will be alright.", he states to himself and seems to calm down. Yet, the worry is still visible in the brown eyes. Hands are stuck in his pocket, and the man decides to see if either Mira or Simon are hanging out in this area of the spaceport.

'MAAAARRRRKKUUUUUUSS!', he suddenly hears, for some reason. Inside his mind. He stops right where he is. "What?", looking around to see if there is any sign of Mira and Simon. There isn't. At least not inmediately. Not close enough that the Corellian would hear the girl shouting out like that. "Something...", he whispers, and frowning starts moving again, faster. Walking straight to where Mira and Simon are waiting. He sees them in the distance, and smiles widely, happy to see his adopted 'sister' and his new friend are both doing quite alright.

Mira looks around the spaceport after she ceases yelling, hoping that somewhere he had heard her. Her gaze sweeps back and forth, looking for the familiar face of her new friend. She nearly gives up and is in the middle of drawing in another breath to call him again, when she spots a familiar looking head of hair among the crowds. And it was heading towards them. Moments later, Markus emerges from the crowd. "There he is!" Mira says, pointing and trotting towards him. "I looked all over for you. Even in the cantina. But there was fighting and loud going on in there, so I decided that I didn't really want to be there so I left and then I saw you come out with Simon but you disappeared so we waited here for you. It was Simon's idea," she babbles quickly and rather incoherently. "Did you hear me calling you?"

Simon blinks several times at Mira's shout. For a moment, Simon gives the girl a cold stare. When hunting for game in the woods, one must be quiet so as not to scare away the prey and not attract other predators. But then... this isn't the forest, and Markus is not someone their hunting. Slowly donning a smile, Simon nods in acknowledgement to Mira's method, even as he turns his gaze to the spacers staring at them. Other predators in this urban forest? It doesn't matter... they were leaving soon.

And then, Markus appears out of the woodwork, moving directly for them. Mira's methods might not be his way, but they seemed effective.

When Markus reaches speaking distance, Simon opens his mouth to greet his friend, then stops as the torrent of speach escapes Mira. He closes his mouth, then looks down at her, his curiosity obvious. There is a touch of envy in the look he gives her as well. He would probably never be able to talk that fast himself in Basic.

Markus arches an eyerbrow, as he approaches the other two. He picks up on Simon being about to say something, and grins at the man as Mira blurts out her piece first. Anything negative in the other man's expression, is completely missed in the Corellian. He considers Mira's question, blinking a few times. His right hand goes up to scratch his head, "I... Well, actually. Yes.", he responds, frowning in thought now. He looks at Simon, and then at Mira and decides to simply smile. "That must have been a very powerful shout to reach me.", he says, reaching out as if he were to ruffle the girl's hair. "You know, we need to get you some new clothes. That cloak is good and all, but people should have different clothes.", he smiles at the girl.

Then something hits him right there, Simon had agreed to go with him. But Mira was supposedly in the trip for Corellia, not to cruise the galaxy in the quest that Simon and Markus had decided to take. "I... We need to leave soon, Mira. I guess you want to return to your family, huh?", he asks, and as much as he tries the regret is there. He has grown too fond of the girl for his own good. He saw her as a sister, for some reason. Letting go was going to be hard.

Mira beams proudly that her yell had carried all the way over to where Markus had been and that she had somehow helped him find them. Her grin fades, though, as looks down at her ratty old cloak, then back to Markus. "I like my clothes," she retorts stubbornly, not understanding why she really needed different clothes. Well, she had different clothes, back home, but she kind of liked this the best. She takes a moment to admire her ratty brown outfit, almost totally missing the change in Markus's mood. But as he speaks again, she lifts her gaze to meet his and tilts her head to one side. She, too, had grown rather attached to her new friend, and didn't really care to go see her family right now anyway. They had probably already left for their summer house on the other side of the planet anyway. She looks towards the road, considering just heading home, when a flock of birds flies overhead and lands by the entrance of Trader Way. Well, that made up her mind. Yup. "Let's just go," she says uneasily.

Clothing is generally unimportant to Simon. Something comfortable and functional has always been his way, and if it helped him blend into his surroundings, it was that much better. With Markus and Mira's brief discussion concerning her attire, Simon cocks his head slightly, studying the girl again. He starts to say something regarding her apparel, then stops as he suddenly an image floods his mind... a giant avian, stalking the streets with his wings spread and its small black eyes seeming to shift left and right, slyly. The image is there and gone in the same moment, and with Mira's utterance of 'Let's go,' Simon shakes his head and says, "Yes. There is a strangeness to this place."

With a scream, a ship soars in through the atmosphere from far above, much faster than most ships would dare in the skies. Darting here and there, she avoids the other traffic in the air skillfully. As she nears the port, her features become visible, revealing her to be a YT-1300, all unidentifiable, with no marks on her hull at all. And, then comes the whirr of a speeder-car from the south, gunning her engines to the max, through the middle of the road, sirens blazing her along. Finally, it too becomes visible. And it isn't just one speeder car, it's three. The center, completely black, with tinted windows--a limo. And, in front and back a pair of military bikes, their flashy lights going flashy-flashy, and the sirens going wail-wail. Finally, the birts realize there are very fast things coming for them, and they scatter in a matter of seconds, flying here and their, the three vehicles flooding through the flock unscathed. The ship, on the other hand, comes down quickly, her landing skids flashing out, her body twirling in a near 180, and dropping down with an uncanny /thud/ right near the edge of the field, as close to the road and Cantina as space permits. Her entry-ramp flies down uncharacteristically fast, dust flying up everywhere from the still-hot engines. And then, the entourage of hover-cars arrives, screaming to a stop hurridly. Hurridly, as everything seems to be with this group. A trio of black-clad men clamber out of the ship, the leader in a completely black suit, a sword at his side. The other two, well, in black jumpsuits.

"Well... I...", Markus starts, debating. He really felt Mira should at least attempt to see her parents, yet for some reason having her around felt right. He offers a smile and nods. "Alright. And your clothes are fine. But there are times, they may get boring and because of this, new clothes are needed.", he explains, in a playful manner to the girl.

Markus then turns to Simon, "I'll get the ship open for you two. I need to pay for some supplies I had delivered, but I'll be-", Markus pauses there as the newly arrived YT-1300 offers its grand display. Brown eyes are squinted, and the white haired man scratches his chin. He is about to say something, when he notices the hover cars and he black clothed people. "I don't like this... I sense trouble.", he comments towards his companions, inmediately moving to take a protective position next to Mira. "We should better be in our way.", and he seems intended in hurrying up back to the ship.

Mira looks down at her clothes again, apprising them before tossing out a casual and noncommital shrug. She liked them okay and she was about to open her mouth and tell him so when the far off sounds of sirens reach her ears. Perking up a little, she swivels her head around, trying to find which direction they were coming from, when an entourage of vehicles arrives in the air over the spaceport. She watches them approach until it seems that one is going to land practically on top of them.

"I don't like it either," she echoes, referring, of course, to getting squished by the unmarked YT-1300, and allows herself to be herded off a little ways from the landing field. The ship sets down, not too far away, and the ramp opens kicking up a cloud of dust. Pulling her hood off her head and pulling it around to shield her nose and mouth from inhaling a breathful of dust, she peers at the ship curiously, peeking out from the place she has taken up behind Markus and Simon.

Simon's reaction to the sudden caucaphony and appearance of the YT-1300 is similar to Markus's. A frown furrows his brow, his right hand moves to the weapon at his side, and he takes a step toward the ship, adding another body between Mira and these strangers. Too many strange things had already happened that day for Simon to shrug off his apprehension.

"Is this normal of your home, Markus Lisardis?" Simon asks quietly, not taking his eyes from the strangers.

Finally, the engines of the ship whine down to a soft whirr, and the trio steps forward some more. The pair of jumpsuit clad fellows peer around cautiously, each with their arms loose to their sides, as close to their blaster carbines as comfort allows. The man in front comes to a halt near the cars, his own eyes peering around slowly. Mostly, on the inhabitants of the starport. Brown hair, brown eyes, a pristine suit, and ornate sword, with matching black Kylan-3 on the other side of his hip. Two more of the guards appear from the ship, standing near the entrance to the beast solemnly, peering about in equal caution. And then, the doors to the hoverlimo open wide, first a pair of suit-clad, larger-than-life human bodyguards tromp out, muscles bulging in their every form, giving the impression that the suits would rip at any movement. But, they don't. One of them wanders over to another door, pulling it open slowly. And then, a foot comes out. The second. And finally, a thin, short man, trussed up in a white suit and similar sword to that of Bazil's, the black-suited man. The white-suited man, with sinewy black hair, blue piercing eyes, and a figure that denotes dexterity beyond description, and just enough musculature to be noticed, steps forward, bowing to the black-suited man. Two more guards evolve from the limo, and stand in positions around the pair of suits. And then, Bazil returns the bow, offering a short, "It is good to see you again, Mikale. It's been a while." His eyes roam continuously, fleetingly over Simon--or more appropriately, the metal shaft clipped to him. But, Bazil almost seems to ignore it, as his eyes continue to peer around. Fear almost seems obvious in both of the men's minds, as well as extreme alarm. As if they were expecting the worst... like, say, a legion of StormTroopers, or something.

Markus offers Mira a reassuring pat on her back as he urges her forward. Simon's words make the man tilt his head towards him, a smirk appearing now. "Well. Depends on your definition of normal. It may be these days, but I'm quite rusty then.", he offers, trying to lighten up the mood somewhat. There's Markus for you, trying to find the positive side of the most grim situations. Which he was sure this was, after all that the group has gone through already.

And then he trips, a little mouse droid had been trying to race in front of the group and somehow decided getting entangled with Markus' feet was fun. Or so Markus would have thought, as he finds himself suddenly in the air for a split second and then falling down to the floor front first. If he had been able to, he would have cursed and cursed loudly! Regardless of Mira being around or not, however, even this is robbed from him as all he can do is make sure his arms are in front of him to help him control the fall and avoid crashing face first against the ground. Even the heroes and villains of the galaxy, have their not so fresh moments, heh?

Mira continues to be herded along, peering backwards over her shoulder at the people exiting from the craft. Her hood is still pulled over her mouth and nose, even though the dust has mostly died down. She barely notices the little mouse droid zipping along until it is practically underneath Markus and he is on his way down. Unable to do anything to stop his fall, the girl does the best she can to hop out of the way of the tumbling man, so she is not landed upon. What was it with things trying to land on her today? First the ship, now Markus.

The _White Ghost_ is within sight. If they had decided they needed to make a break for it, the three of them could probably be in the ship before anyone in the starport could get off a good shot at them. And if anyone did try to shoot them... Simon would just have to do whatever he had to. All this goes through his mind quickly, and as it settles in, he relaxes a little, even watching the men depart the newly arrived ship.

And then, Markus takes a fall. Jumping like he'd been goosed, Simon moves out of the way much as Mira had, though he never was actually in a position where the Corellian could land on him. A smile spreads across his lips as his white haired friend meets the concrete, and after a moment, he says as he offers a hand to help him up, "You have grown new feet recently, Markus Lisardis?" Though he speaks like a fortune cookie most of the time, through a thick accent, he would appear to have at least some sense of humor.

Of course one of the guards sees it. How couldn't they? And, as the fall takes place, one of the guards leaps to safe his boss, tackling both suited men to the ground. Immediately, chaos breaks loose, as all the guards converge into defensive positions, none of them knowing /why/ the pouncing took place, but getting ready for a firefight regardless. Of course, it doesn't do much good, and immediately Bazil starts screaming at the guard in many, many, foreign expletives. Most of which are barely pronouncable by their respective cultures. The guard stands again, still on the lookout, and reaches a free hand up to scratch the back of his head, flustered. The white suited man just lays there on his back for several more moments, staring in disbelief over what just happened. And then, he, too, stands. Followed by Bazil, who continues cursing at the guard, including threats of bodily harm, and death. Of course, this in itself is a strange sight. A little suited guy insulting and harassing a man three heads taller, and at least five times heavier. But the guard just bows his head, embarassed, before the White Suit drops a palm on Bazil's shoulder. This seems to quell him, and he just shakes it off, "Sorry, Mike. Where did you hire these goons? You could have just requisitioned some guys..." A shrug from Mikale, and he offers, "Found 'em at the military headquarters. Thought they'd be smart enough. Guess not." A short glance to the doffed guard behind him, followed by Bazil's peerings over at the trio again, particularly the one with the metallic shaft. He knew what it was, definately. Being the director of New Republic Intelligence, and good friends with several other lightstick-flingers made him privy to such things. But, he almost seems unconcerned. Of course, anyone who might be playing with his mind might notice concern. If he remembered correctly, most /Jedi/ didn't use the longer version. The guards themselves begin to calm down, taking up their observant positions again. Those that decided their blasters might be of some use reholster them.

And there he is, in all his glory, Markus lying on the floor. He mutters one more time before pushing himself to his knees and cleaning his hands on his pants. "Stupid droid.", he says, in a louder voice the brown eyes following the little devil as it continued on its way, not worrying about tripping down the Corellian, it would seem. He then notices that if he continues with his curses, Mira would certainly heard them and that makes the young man hold back.

His mood seems to ease up as Simon offers to help him up. The Corellian now grins, and accepts the help, pulling himself to his feet and wincing as he straightens up. His knees seem to have taken the brunt of the fall. "It looks like that, yes. One that I seem ready to stick in the first hole we find.", he replies to Simon, the grin still on his face. He turns towards the black clothes guys, Bazil and the rest of that party and smirks as the reaction he seems to have caused. "So much for avoiding attention.", he shakes his head and looks forward to the White Ghost. "Lets just get going.", and he starts again, wincing at first but slowly getting used to it. His pace being slower than before now.

The antics of the guards pouncing around vaguely draws Mira's attention away from Marcus as he lies on the ground and she watches them, mouth hanging agape until they have all gotten up and calmed down. She then shifts her attention back to Markus as he struggles to his feet. "You okay?" she asks fretfully as he stands, searching his face for any signs of pain. Relieved to find none, she relaxes slightly and begins to chew on the cuff of her sleeve, a nervous habit she had that her mother used to deplore, as the sleeves of her cloaks always ended up looking more warn and tattered than the rest of the outfit. "Yeah, let's just get go," she echoes Marcus around a mouthful of the dusty brown fabric and she sets a path behind him, walking slowly to make sure he didn't fall down again.

The reaction of the strange group in suits with swords and blasters is mostly lost on Simon as he helps Markus to his feet. He flickers a glance toward Bazil and his crew, detecting the hint of admonishment in their gestures without understand the words that are exchanged. The smile Simon had donned broadens at that; it seems that he wasn't the only one that was jumpy since coming to Corellia.

"Where is it that you think we shall go first?" he asks of Markus, looking between the man and the ship they approach. He notices their slowed pace, and looks down at Markus's legs. Others of his people had skills in healing and easing pain, but it was not something that Simon knew. Nor, for that matter, was it something he wanted to do here in the middle of the space port with so many eyes directed toward them. He'd done enough to make a spectacle of themselves.

The whole thing just seems confusing to Bazil right about now. He had never seen dossiers on any of these, and with the Jedi school having been destroyed of late, it's odd to see even one force user out in public that he didn't know about. And then there's the lightstaff. Not exactly standard-issue Jedi weaponry. He ponders over the vague facts for several seconds, before his starings elicit the ponderations of Mikale, "Hey, Baz, what's up?" He says the question quietly, following Bazil's stare to the trio. And then he, too, notices the little toy, "What.. isn't that a..." Derr. Mike's eyebrows waggle furtively, confusion marking his face. This was an NR world. And that was a lightstaff. And the two look at each other in unison, and then back, and then to the guards, and then back to each other. Bazil piques in, "Uhh... what say go have a chat with them?" A suicidal thing, to be sure. Of course, with Bazil having gone quite literally insane the past few days, it's no wonder that he would offer something like this. Mikale simply stares at his companion strangely, "What?! Are you nuts?!?" Of course, Bazil doesn't respond. He doesn't need to. In fact, he is already walking towards the three, making a soft motion to the guards to stay behind. Crazy man, definately. Curiosity beckons from his brain, as he trods along quietly. Mikale eventually succombs to the curiosity, too, and begins pursuit, jogging to catch up to his friend. Nuts, all of them.

"I'm fine.", he reassures Mira, adding a smile for the benefit of the girl. The fall seems not to have caused serious damage, as they continue to walk Markus seem to be picking up the pace. He even decides to remove his attention from the act of walking, and look back at the spaceport in general and Corellia. "Well, I'll be back...", he says, smiling and nodding as if he were doing it at the planet itself. The planet that saw him born.

Simon's question makes the young man slow down. "Good question...", the young man muses, now stopping completely for a moment. "Well, that man that we saw the other day. When we had the encounter with Cor-", he catches himself in time, "with those guys. Didn't he say something about seeing one of those", a gesture towards the lightstaff, "At Tatooine? The other one may be going to Coruscant, and seeing how big of a name Skywalker is there for real.", he offers, dropping the volume of his voice at the mentioning of Skywalker... and as he notices the incoming Bazil. Markus openly frowns, studying the arriving one. "I think we will have company soon.", he says, but for some reason finds himself waiting for Bazil to arrive, instead of moving on towards the ship again.

When trailing behind several people, it is usually a good idea to watch where one is going. But Mira is distracted by another flock of birds flying over head. First, hearing the flapping overhead, she looks up to follow them warily with her eyes until they have safely travelled over the spaceport, at which point she looks back where she is going and finds herself about to bump into Simon and Markus, who have stopped. So she too stops, rather abruptly to avoid plowing into them.

At this point, she begins to pay attention to what it is they are saying. Coruscant. Tatooine. She had heard of these places in the books she used to read, but had never actually been there. In fact, aside from her brief jaunt to Caspar, she had never been off of Corellia. "Isn't Tatooine all hot and sandy?" she asks, wrinkling up her nose. Hot and sandy tended to be unpleasant when wearing a cloak such as the one she was wearing. But she would live.

Mira, then noticing that everyone was looking behind her at Bazil and his approaching horde, she turns around a full 180 degrees to see what was so interesting. And interesting is what she might refer to those who seemed to be heading their way. Never before had she been paid so much attention to than when she was with these people. So she tilts her head to one side curiously and peers noncommitedly at the men approaching them. "Can I help you?" she asks, wondering if perhaps he is lost and looking for directions.

Simon's blue eyes move in the direction of Bazil and his fellow as they approach, his eyes narrowing to slits and that apprehension he'd felt before resurfacing. He listens to Markus as he speaks, and comments, "I have heard of this place, Tat Ew Ine." He pauses long enough to turn and regard Mira as she gives a description of the place. He nods with her words, opening his mouth to add to the comment, but stops as she addresses the strangers approaching them. With a sigh, he sets his feet shoulder length apart and pushes his weight to the ball of his feet, prepared to move into action if necessary. Corellia... he would definitely try to conceal his lightstaff the next time he came to this seemingly hostile planet.

"Look, Baz, I really think it's no concern. He's probably not even a force user. Might have lifted the thing off some dead guy's belt. For all we kno--" Mikale lectures Bazil, until a wave of disconcern is flashed off from Bazil, "Oh, do shut up. Just gonna badger them for a few. Maybe they're good friends with Luke, or something, ya know?" Or they could all be sith masters that were about to kill the lot of them. Yeah, right. Bazil's words are loud enough to be heard, definately. Especially the 'Luke' part. "Ok, Baz... just don't go and whine to me later, when we're dead." Mikale states quietly. And then, they have arrived, Bazil standing there smiling, Mikale with concern in his heart and face. And Bazil, he simply starts jabbering away, "Hey there. I was just wondering about your flashlight, there. I'm into all sorts of gadgets, and your's looks quite nifty. Looks a lot like one of them light-sabaticals, or whatever those sparkly people call it." Purposeful, are the mangling of the words. Purposeful to the extent that he wants to be deceitful about the whole thing, "Tatooine, you say? Lovely place. I used to live there, 'bout eleven years ago. Off near Mos Cathtos. Then I wised up and came off to these parts. You come here often? I find Corellia a beautiful planet, year round. Especially the beaches." Rambling, like usual. And most of what he says is truthful. He really did live on Tatooine, and he really does find Corellia nice.

The mentioning of Luke, makes Markus arch an eyebrow. If he remembered correctly, that was Skywalker's name. He doesn't bother to hide his reaction, and in fact displays it for the man to see. For now, though, the white haired man decides not to ask about it. "Corellia is my home. I hadn't visit in a while, though.", Markus offers grinning now but keeping his tone reserved.

The young man exchanges a glance with his companions, before turning back to Bazil and his companion. "And you might be?", he asks, curious now and wondering why all of the sudden, they managed to get the attention of these people. And then Bazil points it to him, Simon's weapon. Well, one thing he is learning for sure about it, is that it seems to attract people like a magnet. He looks confused for a moment, though, sincerely confused and the young man decides to just go with the question that bugged him since he heard Bazil's words when approaching them. "You spoke of a person called 'Luke'. Who were you talking about?", the man, again, looking sincere in his curiosity.

Mira stands quietly, watching her friends talk to Bazil and the man with him. There wasn't a whole lot for her to do here, but stand and listen, as she was mostly along for the ride adn was mostly uninformed on all sorts of things. Yes, she had heard of people named Luke. She even had a young cousin named Luke who lived a few miles from teh heart of Coronet City. He was named after some New Republic hero who had done some really wonderful things which she had read about at some point but had mostly forgotten. At any rate, she doubted that her young cousin was the one they were talking about.

Normally on such an occasion, Mira's attention would be all over the place, directed at the ground, the sky, the crowds nearby, and evertying in between. But today, she is seeming unusually focused, and even thinks that this conversation might, in some random way, be important to her. So she listens.

Simon takes on a confused look at Bazil's flood of words, rivaling that of Mira's previously. He brings his left hand up, palm toward the stranger's in a defensive gesture as if he could hold back or slow down Bazil's ramblings physically. Thankfully, Markus takes up the task of answering, and with a relieved sigh, Simon looks between his friend and the verbose stranger.

"Me? Well... I'm many people. Depends on who /you/ are." Bazil answers with a lopsided grin, offering a 'sorry' look to Simon, as he crosses his arms. Cryptic is as cryptic does. "Oh... Luke? Master Luke Skywalker, of course." It is said simple, without any embelishment, or anything. Said, and then shrugged off, like some unimportant fact of life, that everyone knew about, "I haven't seen many o' those type before, Mr... uhh... I'm sorry, but I don't seem to have gotten your name?" Derr. A small, polite bow to Mira, and a smile to her as well. Mikale just stands back, watching the show with unpronounced interest.

"My name is Markus Lisardis.", the white haired Corellian offers, after listening to Bazil, apparently deciding the exchange of information may be worth giving his name to the man. "Now. What would be your name?", he repeats his question, arms crossed over his chest. The tone and the posture the Corellian offers is not threatening in itself, more like reserved and careful. And who can really blame people for being careful around others that simply decide to approach them all of the sudden?

Once again, Markus looks to the others. "These are my friends.", he interjects, when Bazil continues on asking for names. He pauses, waiting to see if the others are willing to introduce themselves, "So you do know Luke Skywalker?", Markus finds himself asking after a moment, not being able to control his curiosity. "Do you know where could he be found?", the voice tentative, careful again. The young man looks sincere, though, and there is a certain tone of urgency in his words.

Mira continues to pay attention to the conversation but remains relatively quiet, interjecting only a soft, "I'm Mira," after Markus introduces himself. She then lapses back into silence, simply paying attention to the proceedings.

Simon continues to stand silently, prepared to move in defense if necessary. For some reason, he doesn't really sense any sort of physical danger from the pair of strangers before them, but he's not so irresponsible as to let his guard down. Still content to let Markus continue to do the talking for them, he glances over at his friend as he shifts position, then turns his attention back to the two strangers. How convenient would it be for them for these two to have the answer he couldn't find himself in the last year?

"Well, I guess I can trust you. I'm Bazil McKenzie, of the Republic. I'd prefer you didn't ask my job status... I really don't know you that well." Bazil says simply, a small frown borne over his face. Why he's even bothering right now, is beyond his own comprehension, "Well... yeah... I know Luke. And I can pretty much tell you where he is. I saw him just the other night." He continues to drag out these proceedings. He knows, that's the truth. Heh. "Uhh... I don't mean to be a bother," he starts again, turning to Simon, "But where did you get that?" A hand gestured towards the lightstaff again. "I really haven't seen one in a long time, and it's owner wasn't exactly... good." Good, meaning nice, meaning happy and light.

Well, ok, he didn't see one first hand, but he did see one from some old dusty picture-book in the library at NRI headquarters so very long ago. But he nods at Markus softly, "I agree, sir." He turns his head to Mikale, "Could you hold for a while? I'd like to talk with these folks, before we set out. I think we might want to bring back some friends for Skywalker." Mikale nods solemlnly, giving a look of 'I don't like this.' to his companion, but reluctantly does leave. Leaving Bazil and the three alone, and Bazil peering at Simon, "No problem, sir. You might find out who I am soon... depending, quite honestly, on how much I find out about you all." Quiet, hushed words now. Serious. Quite serious. "If you'd lead the way, to wherever you'd like to speak?" he offers plainly, trying to gain at least some trust with them. At least so they don't kill him right off the bat.

Markus looks first at Mira, and bows his head for a moment. He then turns to Simon, trying to read the other one's expression. Considering his past experiences with Simon, Markus offers his companion a look of understanding and support as he then turns back to Bazil. "As you can imagine, it is hard to trust someone who presents himself to us just as we were leaving, who seems to have a very focused interest in something my friend posesses, and that conveniently presents himself as someone that knows a person we have asked about, Skywalker.", the Corellian offers in a neutral voice.

Markus finds himself nodding at Bazil. He was willing to give this man the benefit of the doubt. He had assumed the other one was going to select a place himself. Throwing the decision back at Markus took him off guard, as the Corellian now has to find a place that wouldn't put him or his friends at risk. There is his ship... But no. And he certainly wouldn't suggest... He blinks a few times, nodding to one of the hovercars. "Maybe we could use one of those as an impromptu office? If you empty it first? If not the tavern may provide us with a quiet table.", but in his face he shows that the tavern doesn't seem to be a desirable idea.

"Not the tavern," Mira peeps up. She still didn't like the feeling she had gotten in the tavern earlier, and she had just managed to shake the feeling that something not quite right was following her around when Markus had to go and bring it up again. "Maybe the park. Or the swoop arena. No one should be there at this time of year. Everyone goes to the beach in this kind of weather. So not there." So maybe the girl did know something about this city after all. But the hovercars would work too. She shrugs non-committedly. Wherever was fine with her. She turns her gaze towards the hovercars where the goons were still milling about, keeping a rather wary eye on all of them.

The look in Simon's eyes at the mention of going back into the Cantina is exactly the same as it would be if Markus had suggested he use his head to stop a bear trap from snapping shut. He gives his companion a quick, wary look, then lets out a sigh of relief as Mira begins echoing his dissatisfaction with the idea of going back into the bar. With the mention of the hovercars, Simon gives the floating contraptions a considering look.

"The carriage should be turned off," Simon adds his voice, nodding toward the indicated hovercar. "But it would do well for talk, if talk turns out to be worth our time." He looks back at Markus then, taking a cue from his words. "So far, I do not see that it would be worth it."

"The hoverlimo, then? It's got a fully stocked bar, if you're into that kind of thing..." Bazil shrugs softly, peering between the three. His arms are dropped from his chest, and move onto his waist, pinning his jacket back, leaving visible the sword, and his blaster. But... the sword... it's the most interesting part, definately. Ornate designs run along her length, the most prominant being Old Republican script that covers the hilt. The most noticible, being the solitary word 'Intelligence' ... several others, showing off 'For command in times of peril.' and other garbage. The sort of thing one would get as a reward for good work, or something. However, it /is/ in Old Republic script, and is only barely legible for those who know the new-age garbage.

The Corellian nods his agreement with Simon and then reaches out to pat Mira on the back. "We won't be going in there again, then.", he says to the girl, in a brotherly tone. Markus gestures for Bazil to lead the way to the hover limo, and although he notices the sword, he makes nothing of it, it would seem.

Simon's last words make the young man smile, "Perhaps. We won't know for sure, until we talk with the man.", Markus responds, trying to keep the smile in place. The look he gives Simon, seems to indicate his agreement with his words, though. He turns back towards Bazil, waiting for the other to lead the way.

Mira doesn't wait for Bazil to lead the way. As soon as it seems Markus has decided they were going to talk to them, she moves on ahead of the others towards the hoverlimos (and goons) by the edge of the spaceport. She was eager to finish up the meeting so they could go wherever it was they were going to go, especially now that she had been reminded of the tavern and felt all creepy again. And she didn't want to get held up by any protests Simon might make about whether or not they would talk to them at all. If Markus had decided they were going to talk to them, that was good enough for her.

Much earlier, Simon had given the swords strapped to the waists of Bazil and his entourage an assessing look. He'd already dismissed the weapons as little more than decorations to their outfit. Even with skill, the odd material of the blades would be likely be no match for Simon's weapon. Simon wasn't interested in fighting, but he couldn't help himself from assessing potential enemies.

As Mira darts around he and Markus, Simon's feet suddenly find speed, and he's quickly moving with her like a second shadow. He lets out a quiet sigh as he follows, turning to try and not give his back to either Bazil or his entourage.

And then, magically, the Flecti Non Frangi appears in the atmosphere, gliding down through the skies simply, and slowly. But as for Bazil, he's already on his way towards the limo, and has yet to notice the ship. But, he trods along slowly, and ponderingly. Why did they want to know about Luke? To kill him? To befriend him? And then the whine of a quadruplet of X-Wings appears through the skies, guarding the precious YT-2400 regally. And that, definately, draws Bazil's attention. He stops, turns his head to the sky, and simply utters, "What in the flying fark?" And slowly, the Flecti descends, before finally touching down, her starfighter entourage headed off to another part of the landing field, to set down a ways away. This definately draws Bazil's attention, and keeps him to a complete stop. Now, what her occupant was doing here was his best guess, definately. And then, the hatch to the freighter opens...

Without its entourage-induced fanfare, the _Flecti Non Frangi_ is a rather unremarkable vessel when seen alone. Off the stock from the outside, the YT-2400's only deviation from its stark white exterior are its bright red warnings and two blue crests on the port and starboard side. The hatch opens as Bazil said, its ramp departing not-so-long afterwards. Stepping from the ship emerge two Senatorial Guards, followed by two other figures, a lightly-robed female human and a uniformed, male Calibop. As a train of people emerge from the ship, enough to wonder just /how/ packed the little ship was, the front official meets with another official who stepped up to the ramp shortly before. The female departs from the arm of the Calibop and moves over away from the vessel, removing her headpiece and veil and handing them to one of the two women aides who followed her away. Brief words are spoken and the woman departs from her aides, followed only by her platinum protocol droid.

He notes the apprehension from his companions, but if there was a small chance that this man could actually lead them to Skywalker... Markus allows himself a hopeful sigh, as he is the last one to start the walk towards the hover limo. He keeps Mira on sight, but feels confident enough with Simon close enough to protect her, if it came to that.

Bazil's words, make Markus pause for a moment and his reaction to the newly arrived ship makes the white haired man completely stop, a thought frown on his face. "Anyone you know?", he asks, as he slowly starts walking towards the limo again, making sure Bazil continues in front of him. During his walk he turns his head towards the newly arrived ship that seems to have caught Bazil's attention again, absently noting the sudden influx of beings arriving from it.

It'd been a long time since Simon actually believed in coincidence or chaotic chance. All things were connected to the True Source, and all were influenced by it and each other through it. The new ship arriving, with Bazil seeming to recognize it and at least a few of the people emerging from it... but again, that was paranoia, and Simon wouldn't succumb to jumping at every shadow or fleeing at every wolf howl caught on the wind.

As Simon follows Mira toward the hovercar, he gives the procession from the YT-2400 another assessing look, his gaze stopping on the Calibop. There were no such creatures from his home, and he'd never seen the like since leaving. It was impossible for him to know the saying concerning Calibop's, concerning their inability to act before words. He didn't even know what the species was called. All he could see was that it was large, winged, and if it were fierce, it would be a hard enemy. He steps closer to Mira, going from second shadow to second skin.

Well, Bazil wanders forth more, pondering lightly. Kathryn was here. This was definately weird. And, her husband was with her. On Corellia? Whhhhyyyy??? Oh well... he continues on his merry way, until he reaches the limo, and babbles off to his guards to wander off into his YT-1300. They do so, and so does Mikale, who just continues to boggle. And then Bazil turns to his new companions, "Hop on in, guys." The car has already been turned off, and the drivers gone with the guards. But, the sword-man does take a few moments to peer off towards Kathryn, pondering lightly. Sometimes, he wished he could harness the force like these freaks. It would be nice to be able to find out /why/ someone was doing something, from afar. But, oh well. He loses interest--for the moment, and peers towards the others, "A Republican Senator. And his wife. Dunno why they're here, though..."

The platinum protocol droid moves along with greater movement capabilities than its predecessors, striding much more fluidly. "Mistress Kathryn! This is Corellia! You said we were going to somewhere safer than Coruscant!" The woman's strides are taken in care, dainty and charming. Due to some recent committal duties, the woman's husband, Senator Jrevelian, has made several verbal attacks against a few swoop gangs terrorizing the Five Brothers, also known as the Corel system. Due to that, the paparazzi has been staked out at her apartment in Imperial City, and no doubt would they also be here and love for her to do something to disgrace her husband's name, as if it wasn't disgraced enough with her being a human, completely against the strict Calibop mating rituals.

"Sorry, dear," the woman says to her droid, giving a smile to her chauffer standing beside a shiny black hoversedan nearby. "Sometimes I just have to plain out lie to you for you to go somewhere." Finally at the sedan she grins at the driver with some furrowed, confused brows, "Hello... where's Linel?" The driver smirks, "Sorry, madame. Linel had a very... painful headache. I am your driver today, please step inside," he seems to demand, opening the door. Kathryn steps back, "Excuse me?" she asks, taken aghast by such rudeness. Though she wasn't a very commanding person on people's attitudes toward her, she was always good to her friends who helped her out with daily life, also known as her servants, and never got, nor did she expect, something like that to be said. The droid then pipes up, a bit overly courageous for a protocol droid, "Dear sir, this is Senator Jrevelian's wif--" cut off by the ring of blaster fire into its chest, the droid sputters and falls backwards. The driver looks menacingly at the droid's "corpse" and then grins at Kathryn, knocks her over the head with the butt of his pistol, and shoves her falling body into the car, slams the door, enters his side, and lifts/speeds off, the inertia of which closes his own door for him.

Markus continues on his way, and as he is told to hop in, he waits for the others to do it before jumping in himself. At Bazil's explanation on the identity of the new presence, Markus slowly nods. A chuckle, the Corellian actually trying to lighten up the mood, "Maybe a vacation from the Senatorial duties, was in order.", he offers, shrugging then.

The cricial eye of Markus moves to the hover limo then. He studies the exterior for a few moments before starting to move to get in the vehicle himself.

Of course, anything going on Markus' mind is completely thrown out of whack at the sounds of blaster fire. The white haired man turns around, just in time to see the Senator's wife being shoved into the other car. There is but a moment of hesitation. "Blast it!", he curses loudly, turning to Bazil. "I assume we should probably try and help the Senator and wife?", he offers sincerely. He is not sure where Bazil stands, but from the man's expressions before he seems to believe that Bazil either supported the Senator, the wife, or is related to the Republic somehow. Or he may be completely wrong about it.

Simon had been looking between Markus and Bazil as the one spoke to the other when something caught his attention, something beyond his senses. Whirling on the balls of his feet, his right hand moved to the silver cylinder at his waist just as the first of the blaster shots buried itself in the automoton. The weapon remains unignited, however, when Simon realizes the hostility he sensed wasn't directed at he or his friends, but the woman that had been at the head of the procession near the newly arrived ship.

His first instinct, of course, is a wildly foolish one. He could throw his weapon across the distance, guide it to its target, and possibly disable the speeder before it got too far away. But the attention that would be brought to himself and his companions... It's his companions that are important, a part of his destiny. Frowning, he looks toward Bazil, a questioning look in his eye.

Immediately as the shot is fired, Bazil is on the move. Instantly, he is screaming at his own guards to take action, who thusly take pursuit by foot, and the two military hovercars. And then, he has a comlink in his hand from some fold of cloth or another, and yells into it, "This is Major Bazil McKenzie, Internal Intelligence. Get CorSec to the starport immediately, Senator Jrevelian's wife has been kidnapped by unknown forces! My own men are in pursuit, but we need more support! I need roadblock ASAP!" Well, now that the cat is out of the bag, and the fact that Bazil is indeed New Republic, and not only that, but a high ranking Intelligence officer, he wastes no time in explaining to the threesome, "Do what you will. If you can help, please... help." There is concern in his voice. Not so much the concern of a fellow NRite, but the concern of a good friend. Bazil peers at the three, hoping for them to make their decision quite quickly.

At the gunshots, Senator Jrevelian, as well as his entourage and the Corellian delegation's, turns his head to view the goings-on, his eyes widened, towards the direction his wife just took. His hair immediately standing on end, his confused eyes suddenly betray a great deal of rage as he lets loose a completely non-Calibop roar. Without orders, the Senatorial Guards spring into action and surround the Senator from any further attacks, and the YT-2400's pilots run back inside, the ship fires up, and its gunports open, full-speed in the direction of the speeding hoversedan.

On-the-scene CorSec officers were in their patrol cars and swoops in an instant, their sirens blaring as they rocket out towards the kidnappers.

With the military, NRI, and CorSec moving towards the sedan so quickly, the "driver" seems to succumb to the knowledge that he has picked the wrong the profession. "Emperor's black bones! Just who the hell are you, lady?!" he exclaims to the unconcious Kathryn in the backseat, separated by a plastisteel partition. Ever so groggily Kathryn begins to slip in and out of conciousness, her hard head having a very useful purpose in this situation. Sitting up straight she screams, and sharp pain moves through her head. "You idiot!" she yells, "You kriffing idiot!" Battering against the transparent partition she yells and curses at the driver in every language she knows.

Drats! He made making calls like this, but there wasn't much time. He still understood that in no way he had any authority over any of his friends, but Markus does throw them a certain look, that betrays his own intentions. "I'm willing to help.", he expresses to Bazil, not sure how much help he would be though. He is just... a Corellian visiting home. The brown eyes of the young man slightly move towards Simon, though. He says nothing to the man, and asks nothing of him either. He understood how Simon may prefer not to get involved and he was willing to respect that. This much, he tried to transmit to his friend somehow. Remembering Mira, the young man grows concerned then, worrying that he may be putting the girl in danger with his decision.

But the truth of the matter is that he wouldn't be able to just do nothing about what's happening.

Since the driver had been out of the hover car they were getting into, Markus find himself jumping into the hover limo's driving seat, turning it on. "Well, lets go!", he says, waiting for just a second for anyone that doesn't want to be part of the little adventure. The limo may be quite hard to turn around, but it at least may be powerful enough to provide a chance to catch up with the offending vehicle.

Mira had already climbed into the car for the meeting when all the action went down in the spaceport, and she was really rather confused for a few moments when people started yelling and screaming outside. Corellia was never this exciting when she lived here. And before she can bolt out of the car to see what is going on, Markus has already jumped into the driver's seat to take off after the fleeing vehicle. "What's going on?" she asks, scooting forward towards the partition seperating the driver's seat of the hovercar from the passenger's compartment. Realizing that he probably can't hear her, she pushes a myriad of buttons in the back seat, some of which try and lock and unlock the doors, turn on the air conditioner, and finally the one that rolls down the partition. "What's going on?" she repeats, peering out through the front window of the vehicle. She was getting the feeling that someone was fleeing from somewhere, and that for some reason, they were going after them. "Simon, are you coming?" she asks, realizing that she had locked the doors, and again starts punching at buttons to find the one to unlock them.

Duty was important to Simon, and his first duty was to protect Markus and Mira, for whatever reason. It wasn't just because he liked them, there was something else beyond his senses. Something tied to the True Source that guided him and motivated him just he'd been guided and motivated to this Corellian starport in the first place. Yet, there was something compelling in Bazil's plea. And, as cold as it may be, they might actually be able to use him. It was a hard decision to make, but Simon was going to help in some way, whatever it was. But how....

And Markus was ahead of him. Simon's experiences of hunting through the wilds of Telgosse never prepared him for thinking to take another ship, but seeing Markus take the initiative was enough to convince him that it was the right action to take. He moves to the door and tries the handle several times, frustration starting to enter his movements before Mira unlocks the mechanism, allowing entry.

Thoughtlessly, Simon throws an arm around Bazil's waist and pulls him into the limo behind him, drawing upon the True Source to close the door behind him. Before the door is closed fully, the limo is pushing off with enough force to press its passengers back into the cushions of the seat. Their part of the pursuit had begun.

"Erf!" Bazil utters, as he is dragged on in. And then, the car jets off, making him roll around for a few moments before he gets his footing. The interior of the back of the limo was spacious, but not enough for a chase. He quickly moves for the center of the area, tearing at the floor like some animal or a madman, finally managing to reveal a large compartment, and a large stock of weapons. Including several A280 rifles... Kylans... vibro-blades... and other various items. A fully stocked bar, that's for sure. He himself pries a long EMP rifle free, before slamming a fist down onto one of the panels to lower the nearest window. Carefully, the Intel officer wraps his leg around a nearby seatbelt, before leaning out the window, weapon in hand, trying to train the long item on the rapidly departing vehicle. Hopefully, with a good shot, he'd be able to at least make the speeding vehicle stall. Unfortunately, the other vehicles in pursuit block his chances of a good shot completely. He is wordless, now. His entire mind set on one thing: Getting Kate back.

As if a hoversedan with heavy propulsion jets, and a headstart of two hundred metres wasn't enough of a problem, its new escort of two old, swoop gang-ridden Chariot LAVs won't exactly help the situation. Their gunports blazing at the nearest two patrol vehicles, the Chariot LAVs still have the means necessary to at least adequately deal with the large force behind the black luxury vehicle.

The CorSec patrol cars are forced to drop their defensive durasteel coverings over their windshields, relying on sensors for navigation. Being too much a risk, the swoop-cops have to break off and return to base. The NRI and NR Military hovercraft are somewhat slow, but armored enough for the old LAVs, and they begin to fire.

Kathryn has calmed herself mildly in the backseat, no longer struggling with futility to get to the driver in front and tear out his tonsils. She looks out the window with horror as two Imperial-made craft float beside her, not horror for her own life, but something far more precious, horror of what her brain contains. With a swift move to her ankle and a swipe with her other hand across the partition, the transparisteel slides down smoothly and silently. With a quick move, a blaster is pointed at the driver's neck, "Now... let's discuss how you're going to stop this thing with the terms that if you don't follow everything I say, a blaster bolt is going to move through your neck and if I angle it jussssst right, it'll hit the pilot of that LAV right there."


 * KERFWOOMF* as a blue ball of sizzling plasma screams forward through the air towards the sedan before the limo. Bazil had taken enough aim to be able to accurately make sure the blast at least missed his own vehicles. The ball fizzles through the air, crackling and sputtering as it's energy flies forth. The things were designed to take out vehicles like the one it was targeted at. And, luckily, it was just powerful enough to do that, and not enough to hurt living people. Well. Too much. Bazil could confess to that little fact. He himself got fried with one several months back. And it wasn't very pleasant. He, unlike Simon, was well accustomed to firing this type of weapon, having been raised in such conditions. Hand-to-hand, he would do about as much good as a Sullustan attacking a Wookiee with a spoon. But when behind a weapon of any sort, he could usually hit his mark. And hopefully, he would. He lowers the rifle slightly, to watch the sizzling ball fly forward...

Soaring down like an angry falcon, the _Flecti Non Frangi_ rockets down to the offending LAVs and lets loose a barrage of laser fire on one and a hail of concussion missiles on the other. Hitting their marks precisely, the bolts and missiles ignite their targets into flames as they careen towards the pavement below, missing an entrance to the city by mere metres.

Unfortunately for the YT-2400's ventral laser cannon, it got in the way of the plasma bolt, it's light instrument fried.

As the flaming hulks of the LAVs fall down and the CorSecs take over that situation, Kathryn and the driver fly along and enter the city-limits. Unbeknownst to poor Kathryn, the driver has reached for his knife and slices her hand with the gun. With a yelp and an involuntary reaction, her gun points towards the console and fires twice. The sedan out of control it begins to gain altitude quickly and with it's occupants holding on for life, it levels off to sputter and enter a deep dive towards the street below.

Well, isn't that sweet? Here is Markus, pushing himself to new limits in driving (and possibly getting his record marked to be denied for any licenses in the future) and the offending hover car goes up into the air. The Corellian smirks, considering the action quite rude by said hover car. He looks for something, anything he could use... And he finds it in the form of a an overturned vehicle that had been semin trashed in the previous rounds of fire.

The Corellian pushes the hover limo to the limits, the powerful engine to its test as hits the overturned vehicle using it as a ramp to get enough elevation. And the hover limo goes up....

...And up...

...And up...

Enough for someone else to take over the heroics, and try to get the woman out of that car before all of them become gross splat marks on the ground.

Of course, there is the little matter now of getting this hover limo back down. In one piece. Well, the NRI seems to be building durable stuff. Hopefully, they will be able to land. Hopefully.

All people carry a piece of the True Source within them, or so Simon's people always believed. Simon's people, the Telgosse, believed that was what made their soul, and it was precious. Since leaving Telgosse, Simon had come to learn that other people's didn't think of the True Source in the same way. They called it the Force, the power of the Jedi. Whatever it was, Simon lets his mind go, letting the energy of it draw through, becoming one with it.

The limo takes flight, and it's as if Markus's thoughts flowed into Simon's mind. Up... up... and defying all sense and logic, Simon is launching out the window opposite Bazil. Whether it is heroic or simply suicide, Simon couldn't say, nor could he care. The True Source is all, and it floods him, carrying him off and guiding him out.

As he descends toward the vehicle they'd pursued, his lightstaff comes to his hands and ignites, twin green blades of energy extending out with a glow to rival a sun. Bodily, he flips head over heals twice. His eyes are shut, and his weapon is brilliant, slashing cleanly through the top of the pursued speeder even as Simon places his feet on the rapidly descending vehicle. It's a small gash that's created, but enough for a woman Kathryn's size to fit through. Enough for him to latch onto with his mind.

Keeping his hands on his weapon, Simon draws more of the True Source through him, reaching to pull Kathryn up and out of the vehicle. The wind rushes through his hair, flapping his tunic around his arms. A span of two rapid heartbeats, and before the vehicle finds its abrupt termination on the ground below, Simon has Kathryn pinned to his chest, the shaft of his lightstaff held against her to hold her in place as he begins another leap, up and off of the vehicle.

And all hell breaks loose for Bazil. With the thump of the limo going up, he falls /out/ of the car, hanging by his leg from the seatbelt. The EMP falls free, going 'BOOM' as it hits the ground, and leaving Bazil shocked. For several moments, he just remains silent, trying to comprehend what heppened. And then it catches up to him, and he looks about, screaming, the ground disappearing very quickly beneath him. And right about now, he's going 'What the hell is he doing?!' about Markus, and 'Oh fark!' about the fact that when this thing comes down, it's going to come down hard. All that armour and extra stuff would make a nice dent in the ground. Then, he manages to get himself back into the vehicle somehow or another. Not easily, mind you. As he untangles himself from the seatbelt, he realizes that he is, now, alone. He acts again, rushing forward into the main part of the cab... well... through the window that seperates the two compartments. And then, he straps himself down forcefully with the seatbelts, turning towards the driver, Markus, "I hope you realize this is going to hurt!" Duh. Especially as the vehicle starts to make it's peak.. and slow... the last few moments before it begins going back down...

Dazed and confused, Kathryn's body goes limp in her savior's grasp. As she loses conciousness, the hover-sedan continues to careen towards the ground, picking up more speed as wiring fries and causes the accelerator to overload. The overload causes an explosion in the cab, engulfing the interior of the vehicle in flames. Kathryn was very lucky, this time. Pedestrians screaming and running out of the way in the streets below, the car crashes and explodes into the pavement and the remaining CorSec, NRI and Military forces quickly begin to cordon off the area as other craft attempt to assist the limousine.

"It has been hurting since this ride started...", Markus mutters under his breath. And that's all he can think of saying. Hopefully, Simon is up there somewhere, doing whatever stuff is that he does. At least, the Corellian can't sense him at the back of the hover limo. Can't sense it... There is no time to ponder any of that, though. As soon as the photographic moment with the hover limo in the air for a split of a second is over, the vehicle tilts forward and its starts going down...

And down...

And down in a straight trajectory against the ground, with a little bit of forward momentum. There isn't much that Markus can do to soften up the impact, so he focuses instead in preparing for it. His body goes limp, and although he keeps his hold on the car's controls, the time has come to just 'ride the wave'. "Hope you have insur-", the rest of the words can't be heard as the car hits the ground with a solid thumping sound. Maybe, the car just landed in something that cushioned its fall. Or maybe, the car just... landed.

Without benefit of an armored shell around them as Markus, Mari, and Bazil would have, Simon and Kathryn move toward the ground in what would certainly fatal descent if it were left to anyone else. The True Source is with them, though, and as they plummet toward the concrete, Simon plies what skill he's been taught toward slowing them down.

Using the leverage supplied by the shaft of his lightstaff, he holds Kathryn to him and rolls them into a slow, forward spin. His eyes shut, and at the last moment, he lets his muscles go limp as they collide into the ground on Simon's back, all of his and Kathryn's weight crushing into him. Ribs give way, pain rushes through every part of him.

At least they stopped.

Yeah, and at least the limo stopped. Well, if you call a crashing, on the seat-of-your-pants, screaming in utter horror metal-crunching smashing stop 'at least.' And that is, more or less, what happens, as the heavy behemoth smashes head-first into the ground, the front of the engine melding with the rear of the engine. Luckily, the firewall was armored enough to keep the engine from actually slicing into the cab, and so all that's left is a resounding *SMASH*... unfortunatly, that isn't it. The angle of impact was just enough so that the limo's momentum causes it to tilt like a see-saw, end over end, and end up smashing once again -- only this time it's roof sparking against the ground as the thin metal sheeting before the armor rips to shreds, and basically disintigrates. She spins softly, as she comes to a halt, and is finally left, upside down, without an engine compartment, very battered up, spinning in slow circles. If it hadn't been for the bracing, Bazil probably would have soiled himself by now. Instead, he's held tightly in place, gasping for breath from the impact of his chest against the seatbelt, a bit worse for wear, the belt having kept him snug in place. Of course, it also managed to crack a rib or two from the impact. Wheezing softly, he blinks upside down, staring out the window, "Fark." Fark. One word. That's it. Of course, it's the only appropriate response right now.

The birds... the flowers... the blue sky... And then Markus regain consciousness just to be attack by an intense wave of pain that assaults his chest. His companion in the front of the hover limo, wasn't the only one with cracked ribs most like. The Corellian tests his body by trying to move. His arms seem ok, one of his legs is hurting, but he thinks he can walk. "We are... alive?", he says the words on a broken voice. "Mira...", the young man suddenly finds himself saying. "Mira!", he now screams, and then adds a second scream of pain. Despite of himself, he turns around to catch Mira in the back of the car, either asleep or unconscius, it would be hard to tell. But she is breathing, and she seems to have fared quite well compared to those in the front. No visible damage.

Another wince of pain, and Markus turns around to try and figure out a way off the trashed limo. The window. He tilts his head towards Bazil, and chuckles which sends him into a fit of pain. Noticing the other is still alive too, "Good, you are still with me." And then, there is Simon and the woman. "Simon!", he screams out, wincing once more and starts moving to try and get himself out through the windows.

Consciousness is a touchy thing for Simon, requiring the same delicate handling of a soap bubble. Pain pulls him in one direction while his tenuous hold on the True Source holds him in the other. Slowly... very slowly... he begins to ply his skills toward controlling pain toward his midsection.

Breathing is a labor, but his lungs continue to draw wind. Still slowly, Simon begins drawing more strength from the True Source, and with pain that he is aware of but blissfully unable to actually feel, he begins to move to get in to his feet. He has many broken ribs, but those would be tended later. Kathryn appeared to be unconscious, but she, too, could be tended to later. Turning his gaze toward the wrecked hulk of the limo, Simon begins putting one foot in front of the other again. Markus and Mira. He would tend to them, and then they would go to the _White Ghost_. And then he would pass out.

As soon as things started getting rough, Mira had taken an extra special step and belted herself into the seat she was in and had spent most of the ride telling Markus where to steer and what the best way to drive the hover vehicle was. In all her vast experience. Since the entire ride had been a little bumpy, she was pretty sure she could have done a better job at the driving. And then the ship veers out of control, crashing to the ground in a horrifying twisting and splintering of metal and vehicle parts. Upon impact with the ground, the bar Bazil had so graciously offered them, with all its amenities, had spilled rather ungracefully on the way down, sending little bits of glass and alcohol all over the compartment and soaking her cloak quite nicely. The belt holding her in place catches her across the chest, knocking the wind out of her and leaving her with a few bruises, if not a few broken ribs.

But she is alive. And concious even. If not a little battered and cut up. When the car stops spinning, and she is able to orient herself again, she finds that she is suspended upside down from the overturned limo seat. "I'm okay," she murmurs, hearing Markus calling her. "But I'm upside down. I think I'm stuck."

Letting her insincts guide her, she reaches around, searching for soem way to get to the button that will release the strap holding her in place. It was, of course, near her hip, where most of the buttons for such things were usually located, but the limo was so bent that between her hands and the button lie a number of obstacles: shattered glass, jagged metal, springs from the seats. And yet somehow, luckily, she manages to hit the button without impaling herself or slicing her wrists open. What luck. And she even manages to not hit her head when the belt releases and drops her from her suspended position. Instead, she manages to kind of lie on her side in a pile of debris. "Oof."

Luckily for Bazil, he managed to brace himself well enough to avoid too many fractures or breaks. And, he loosens his seatbelt just enough to lower down to the roof slightly. Then, he hits the belt-release button, and goes *WUMPF* against the roof, erfing in pain from his ribs. "Augh..." he utters simply, and kicks the door open, crawling out on his back, and then rolling away, gasping some more. Obviously, some lung damage. Oof. Erf. Yeeegh. Sargent is going to kill him. Slowly, he manages to stand, limping slightly on one of his feet, just enough to be noticible. And, he starts to hobble towards the back of the limo... opens the door... and hopes to fark and back that Mira is indeed alive.

In the meantime, the other people start arriving, cordoning the area off, the NRI officers rushing in to help however they can, while the others do their best to keep guard of the area, and keep civvies out. As well, Mikale saunters on over to the limo casually, peering down at his former companion, "Have a nice ride?" That causes Bazil's head to turn, and he scowls, "For some reason, my life keeps coming into peril often lately. I need a vacation." He turns back to the limo in an instant, pokes his body inside, and peers in the darkened interior, asking simply, "You okay?" His hand catches against a shard of glass, and he mutters slightly, getting onto his knees to pull the piece from his skin. And then it catches up to him. Not only did the glass and alcohol collapse. But so did the weapons. And, weapons with all their circuitry, and flammable liquids do not mix. This, he realizes quickly, and without warning, latches onto Mira's arm, dragging her out through the door, screaming out, "MOVE!" The 'move' of course to those in the immediate vicinity of the limo, which ought to be explodimizizing anytime soon.

Well, what a nice turn of events. As soon as the 'MOVE!' is screamed, and Markus sees Mira being pulled to safety, through the pain the Corellian launches himself out of the vehicle following the others to safety. Sweet pain shoots through all his body, as it screams for its owner to stop being so abusive with it.

It starts with a little fire, as some alcohol catches some of it. Then more alcohol and then... the weapons. This day would probably go into history as the day Corellia celebrated the independance of some planet, since just as the previous occupants clear out, the limo goes up in a very colorful explosion that is the result of the different weapons and liquors that were mixed in there. A ball of fire into the sky, that slowly dies down to a column of smoke.

The blast from the explosion sends Markus flying, as if the young man hadn't have enough excitement for one day already, and he lands with a loud grunt and a series of curses as he hits the ground. The pain increases this time, his body trying to make a point here. 'Stop being so abusive! What are you on drugs?' No, he isn't. But right now, he wishes he was... Painkillers, hmmm. However Markus holds on into consciousness his brown eyes first searching for Mira, and then for Simon.

Somehow in Simon's descent with Kathryn, he'd managed to deactivate his lightstaff. He'd also managed to hold onto it even as his ribs were snapping under Kathryn's weight, and she bounced off of him. As his mind reels back to the painful way in which he pulled himself to his feet, he could clearly recall using the disengaged weapon as a prop to help him up. It was still in his hand when Bazil gave his exclamation, and pain or no pain, it flared into life, with Simon on the verge of rushing forward to cut his friends out of the wreckage.

He makes one painful step forward before he notices Bazil toting Mira. That would make things easier... he wasn't sure he could help both Mira and Markus while he was holding himself together. Another step, and then Markus is coming out of the vehicle on his own. Excellent... his friends were still alive.

The heat and force of the explosion reaches Simon a few moments after it lifts Markus off his feet. Wincing back from the heat, Simon's balance fails him, and he falls back ungracefully to land hard on his butt. A grunt leave him, and he extinguishes his weapon as he leans back on his hands. Idly, he wonders if their pursuit of Luke Skywalker was worth all this trouble.

"What? Ow!" Mira exclaims as Bazil wrenches her out of the tattered limo by her arm. She allows herself to be dragged away from the wreck, struggling to catch her breath as they move. "Slow *huff* down *puff!" she exclaims, failing to realize the full reason behind being dragged away from the wreckage until she feels the blast of hot compressed air at her back, sweeping her off her feet and sending her flying a few feet through the air and depositing her not so gracefully in a heap on the ground. It is not only the shock wave from the blast, but the debris that it sends flying that poses a problem. As she flies in her short journey through the air, she can't help but be thankful for the thick material of her old cloak. It was doing a relatively good job of protecting her from the shattered glass thrown out by the explosion.

If she didn't have a few cracked ribs before, she most certainly did now, as pain shoots through her torso and down her back. Groaning in pain, the girl lays on the ground for a few moments, taking the time to fully catch her breath before attempting to move. At long last, she sits up, wincing with each movement, but trying to put on a brave show for those gathered around and those trying to look after her. "I'm ok-ow-ay," she says, sitting on the ground and shooing away those that come to offer her help. "Go help Markus and Simon. I'm fine." Her gaze flicks back and forth between her two friends, and to Bazil who had dragged her out of the car, making sure everyone is at least alive, if not well.

Bazil, too, goes airborne, ungracefully going *KERSMACK* against the harsh ground, and sliding a few feet, to rest next to Mira, wheezing harshly in pain. More cracked ribs, most definately. And missing some skin on his arms, hands, and face. And then, he coughs desperately for breath, and regains his composure to some degree, spitting blood out onto the ground, and pushing himself up, wincing at every movement. Carefully, he manages to plop himself on his haunches again, and he just sits there, staring around him. He shrugs what remains of his coat off, and frowns quietly. His sword is bent. Very bent. A pity... but at least he made it through alive. A small glance over to the girl nearby him, and he offers a small, desperate, grin, "I hate my job." A solitary medic comes over, despite Mira's wishes, and begins prodding Bazil, asking 'im if it hurts when he presses various parts of his body. Leaving a mad Bazil leaving the impression of his fist in the medic's face. Luckily, the strike wasn't very hard, and the medic is only dazed slightly, and backs away, deciding against helping him... for now. Maybe when he falls unconscious, he'll help.

Markus smirks, as he tries to sit down now. "At least you get paid for it.", he mutters back at the man, and starts to chuckle for some reason, but ends up with a very, /very/ painful coughing fit. "I...", and he just falls back on his back letting the arriving medics take care of him. "Simon... Mira...", he whispers softly, the adrenaline rush that kept him all through the ordeal disappearing now. There is only pain, and exhaustation now. And wondering, about why exactly he got involved. Why... Suddenly it hits him, and the man starts chuckling but the pain forces him to stop. "Will you take us to Skywalker now...", he asks, the tone of his voice not hiding the fact that the man is joking, as sarcasm filters through his voice.

Once more, Simon begins to get to his feet, using his extinguished staff as if it were just a hunk of metal. He can see his friends not too far off, with medical personnel moving about and offering assistance where they can. One even comes to him, but withdraws when she sees Simon make it to his feet. Anyone that can walk on his own probably doesn't need immediate attention, after all. If she only knew...

As Simon makes his way toward Markus first, he clips his weapon once more to his belt. He would have to find some way to conceal it in the future, but that's not what's on his mind.

"How fare you, Markus Lisardis? Mira? Bazil McKenzie?" The last name is added as an almost after thought.

Sitting on the ground, Mira is still trying to piece together exactly what happened. How had they ended up doing this again? One minute she was going to a nice simple meeting. The next people were jumping out of hovercars onto ships and they were crashing to the ground. And then things were exploding. And somewhere between there and here, bad things had happened to her body. Because she sure didn't feel like this an hour or two ago. Despite her best attempts, a medic makes his way over to her and helps the girl to her feet, where she wobbles for a moment. But, being a Corellian, she insists that she is fine. Or will be fine. And she teeters a few steps towards Simon, who is making his way towards them. "I'll live," she says simply, still shaken from the entire experience. "I'm tired," she adds, as an afterthought.

"Yeah... I'll take you guys to see him tomorrow, if the medics okay us to leave." Bazil utters softly, as he closes his eyes. He didn't take the sarcasm, or joke. He didn't want to. After all that just happened, humor isn't in his mind any more. And then, Simon calls his name. But unfortunately, Bazil still doesn't know the other's name, "I'm fine... hey... what's your name?" His eyes open, and peer up at the lightstaff wielder now. He asks it in a genuinely tired voice and persona, his stamina having left him back in orbit. He watches slowly out of the corner of his eye as a couple medics cart Kathryn into an ambulance, and whirr off into the distance towards the local hospital. He didn't even know where he was right now. Maybe he'd ask in a while. Mikale and several other of the NRI officers, meanwhile, try to help contain the fire of the vehicles. Wreckage is strewn everywhere. Metal shards, burnt apolstry, and everything else. Not to mention what got mangled with the /other/ car... he doesn't even want to think about that. Right now, he is physically sick of his job, and mentally going insane. If any of the others were paying even remote attention to his emotions, they'd sense hatred and annoyance. And if they probed a bit deeper, they might obviously find the source, which lurks on his conscious like a knife piercing paper. "I'm tired too," Bazil simply states, altogether mentally and physically, "I can get you guys some accomodations in one of the prestigious hotels here, or a fancy medical suite if needed. Hell, if you really don't like hospitals, I'll hire a few private nurses."

Markus blinks a few times, as Simon addresses him. He would have sworn the other was in a worse condition, or maybe the painkillers provided by the medics are takin effect. "Simon...", is Markus first response.

Slowly, the world seems to become clearer. "I'm... alive. You?", he returns the question to Simon showing concern on his voice. Then there is another voice... Bazil's. "Well, I'm usually fine with just staying at my ship...", the young man starts but then as he considerd his eyes fall on Mira. "I guess we can at least use a night at a place like that.", he responds, his expression softening. "Unless is too big a problem.", he adds. Being taken to see Skywalker, which most likely would have taken them ages to try and find him by themsleves, was payment enough. Well, there was also the fact that he could use a more stable job. But that's another thing entirely. For now, a good night sleep and the promise to be taken to see Skywalker, were good enough.