RPlog:Propositions, Preludes, and Promises

NR Spare Barracks -- Calamari(#4222RnFJ) Row upon row of meticulously made cots line in military precision down the cold, off-white walls of this plain-looking room, each separated by a barracks locker and side-table. This room is normally silent, the shadows cast by the lights above harsh and stark against the bare floor. You can see doorways leading off into private rooms and bathing rooms at the far end of the hall.

Paul is sitting in a puddle of sunlight on his bunk. Wearing a new green shirt and playing his new guitar. The late afternoon sun burns into his back, making him glow slightly. The tune he is playing is soft and melodic, with a somewhat haunting melancholy sweetness that seems to be his trademark. He is singing along with the piece, but his voice is very soft, as if he were just practicing or didn't want to disturb anyone.

The piece is the same one that he's been writing for a few days now. The melody acts like a call and response, questions and answers, rising and falling. The lyrics are sung lightly, yet with an ironic understanding. The register is lower than Paul's usual range, so his voice sounds pleasantly husky, which seems to suit both the music and the meaning.

Cynical, just your way. You play the doubting Thomas, Feel the scars and wipe the stains.

So you fight, and retreat, And talk yourself out of believing, In any peace that you can't see.

Blind words you call. Blind words will fall ...

Jessalyn enters the barracks soundlessly; the wall by the doorway is sunk into shadows, contrasting with the brightly lit side of the room where Paul is sitting. As she steps forward into the light, her face is clearly visible; her hair, usually wild around her features, is scraped severely back from her forehead and held in a tight knot at the nape of her neck. Her features are cool, looking like they've been carved out of pale stone. She regards Paul only briefly, then turns from him, her eyes distant, and goes to the locker near her bunk, opening it carefully.

At first Paul doesn't hear Jessalyn enter, still wrapped up in the creation of his music. His voice starts and stops along with the music, the almost jerking quality of the singing reflecting quick thoughts, random pronouncements.

You're logical,you can't find, Any reason to believe in love, You are blind.

Crucify, and deny, Pass the blame and burn the mission, Till dust remains and you wash your hands.

Blind words you call. Blind words will fall.

The music continues after the last of the lyrics are sung, but it is the soft rattle of Jessalyn's locker that has Paul looking up from his hands. He smiles as he recognizes Jessalyn's form but says nothing, his hands idly finishing up the piece.

Jessalyn closes the locker a bit more loudly than she means to, and glances over her shoulder as Paul's voice fades. She shows no expression; in fact, her eyes look as if they haven't focused upon anything close by for some time, as she wilts onto her bunk and fixes her distant gaze on a nearby window.

Finishing the piece, Paul puts the guitar down into it's case and then stretches lazily. He doesn't seem aware of Jessalyn's disposition, perhaps because he is across the room from her. He gets up then and checks his chrono and realizes that some food would be an excellent idea ... and eying Jessalyn, he wonders if she would be in the mood for some company. He begins to saunter over to her casually, with a small smile on his face.

Jessalyn sits with her silent gaze transfixed on the window, caught up in some internal conflict that keeps her from noticing Paul's approach. Every nerve strung tight, she drums her fingers on her thighs, and nearly jumps off the bunk as he draws near enough for her to sense him. "Paul," she says quickly, turning her head to look at him.

Paul smiles down at Jessalyn, his hands resting on his hips. "Hey there .. you look a little pre-occupied," he notes cheerfully. "You want some company, or would you care to accompany me to dinner?" he asks hopefully. "I hate to eat alone ... especially in a resturant," he adds with a small smile.

Jessalyn's brows knit together, as if this were the strangest request she 's ever heard. "Dinner...." Her voice is light and questioning. "Uhm, sure.... though I'm not really hungry." She gets back to her feet and looks up at you curiously, suddenly giving a self-mocking smile. "I can't even remember the last time I ate. Isn't that odd?" She laughs, a small nervous sound.

Paul smiles at her broadly. "I don't have that problem," he jokes with a hint of irony in his voice. "The last meal I can recall having was the one I made for Shenner, which of course ended in disaster." His brow wrinkles a little at the memory, as if it were painful, but something that had been settled and taken care of. "That's why I think this time I'll eat out," he adds enthusiastically, "unless you'd rather wait and eat a little later ... I wouldn't mind," he reassures her.

Jessalyn doesn't even seem to hear you, or notice the emotions that play along your face. Her eyes have drifted distantly again, and only when she doesn't hear your voice anymore and assumes she should say something in reply does she dare to look up into your eyes again. She lifts a hand, and her slender fingers suddenly grip your arm fiercely. "Paul, there's nothing extraodinary about me, is there?" she blurts, out of the blue. "I mean, I'm a nice person, I do what I can for my friends, but there's nothing about me that's.... well, you know. Strange?"

Paul stares at Jessalyn and blinks at her sudden question, then lifts his free hand up to his lips, pursing them thoughtfully against his thumb, considering her and her words before replying. "Well, it's hard to say. I think the strangest thing that I have noticed about you is how quickly you were able to get under my skin and stay there." His words are teasing, but his face is quite serious. "Other than that I wouldn't say there was anything particularly -strange- about you ... but then again, we haven't really known one another that long," He cocks his head to one side. "Why do you ask?"

Jessalyn stares at you intently for a long moment, absorbing your words. But her lips don't turn up in their customary smile at the teasing. "Something's happened," she whispers.

Paul's somewhat puzzled expression becomes more concerned. "Uh, is it bad? What's happened?" he asks bemusedly.

Jessalyn looks down at one of her hands. The fingers are clenched tightly together, and she lifts it up, spreading them open and peering down at the small, crystalline stone that was clutched between them, leaving a red imprint in her palm. "Luke has happened." She stares at the blue crystal worriedly, then snaps her fingers back around it and shoves her hands into her pockets.

Paul's expression becomes even more baffled and bringing his arms to his chest, he folds them there. "What do you mean 'Luke has happened'? ... I thought he had been 'happening' for quite some time now."

Jessalyn scowls up at you. "Not -that-." She shrugs irritably, then hastily smooths her expression. "Something else." Her eyes are wide and bright and pleading for understanding. "He wants to make me... a... a Jedi," she finally forces the words out.

Paul stares at Jessalyn for a few moments before he softly murmurs, "A ... a Jedi?" He looks at her like she has suddenly turned into a completely different person, taking in her form and her features as if expecting that there would be something decidedly changed about them. "Ah, so when did this happen?" and then after a confused shake of his head he asks, "-How- did this happen?"

Jessalyn shakes her head slowly, blinking hard. "I don't know. I told him he was crazy. But he said... that it's been there all along. That he's always sensed it about me, but didn't have the courage to admit it." Jessalyn suddenly moves to put her arms around you, as if to assure herself that she is still real, and not some dream. "I'm scared, Paul."

Paul enfolds Jessalyn in his arms, hugging her tightly. He drops his head lightly on top of hers, his eyes still confused and astonished. "So, you're gonna be like Luke," he murmurs in surprise. He closes his eyes then and holds her to him. "Man, I bet you're scared," he adds, imagining all of the training, work, and responsibility that must come with that title. Then, coming back to himself and draws back slightly, looking into Jessalyn's eyes. "Why didn't want to admit it?" he queries.

Jessalyn is wobbly on her feet as she, also, takes in the hard reality of what has happened to her. As Paul draws away, she clings tighter to him, afraid he'll leave her unable to stand. "Because he was afraid he couldn't teach me properly," she says with a tiny shrug, and not sounding entirely convinced.

Sensing her fragile state, Paul pulls Jessalyn back to him, wrapping his arms around her in comfort and support. "Oh," he replies softly, "that's pretty silly considering how good he is at it," he murmurs softly against her hair. He reaches up with one hand to stroke the auburn curls. "Is this something that you want?" he asks softly, "I mean, do you -have- to do this even if you don't really want to?"

Jessalyn begins to tremble slightly, and she shakes her head against his chest. "Luke says that the only choice I have is -how- to use it." She leans her head back, her face pale, looking younger than her years. "He says that if I don't learn, then someone like.. like Alora will find me, and take away the choice for me." She swallows hard, her throat working as she speaks somberly. "If that's true then.. I really don't see that I have much choice, Paul. I mean... I -trust- Luke. But whether I would choose to do this... I can't answer that. I never would have asked to have this gift. It's a cruel thing..."

Paul sighs deeply looking into Jessalyn's face as she speaks, his eyes darting to each of her features and then finally settling on her eyes. At Alora's name, his brow creases, but he says nothing until she is finished. "I hate to see you in such a bind ... " he murmurs brokenly. "But Alora, well I would kill her if she tried to touch you again," he rasps angrily. "If your only protection against her is to learn how to use this ability, then I think you are best off doing so ... for your own safety." His expression clears somewhat as he thinks about Luke and what little he has seen of the young man's abilities. "And to think what you could do with that training," he murmurs somewhat in awe. "I mean, you have to admit, if I hadn't been such a clod and undid Luke's good work, well, there's a good chance that what he did to me probably saved my life ... it certainly saved me from a great deal of pain and suffering." He raises one hand to draw away a stray tendril from Jessa's face. " It's a demanding gift, but I don't think I would say that it is a cruel one."

Jessalyn sighs quietly. "But... Paul, I don't -want- to be like him. Have you ever looked into his eyes and seen the tremendous burden he has placed on him?" She pulls away from his embrace and sits back down on the bunk, but her hand keeps hold of his arm and she pulls him near to her, her neck craned so she can look up at him. "I'm not that strong. I'm nothing more than.. than what I am. And he's... he's going to make into something completely different." Her dark red head bends. "That's what scares me. I'll..never be me again."

Paul frowns slightly at Jessalyn's words. "Well, yes, I do think that Luke has taken on a mantle of responsibility ... but I also think he has done so mistakenly. Just because you have a talent does not mean that you are responsible for the entire universe. You have choices here, and your conscience and personality will make the right ones for you I think." He sits down next to her, eying her worriedly. "I don't think that is the plan ... I can't imagine that he will force you to be something that you are not ... how can he? A person just isn't that malleable really." He sighs softly. "You will always be Jessalyn, you are just going to keep growing like everybody does ... and no one, not even Luke can make you something other than what -you- choose to be." Perhaps it is an ironic note that the comlink in Paul's pocket suddenly crackles and Luke's voice calls out, "Paul?" Paul jerks in surprise and then giving Jessalyn an embarrassed look, reaches into the pocket and pulls the link out. "Yes Luke?" he replies into it.

Jessalyn draws breath to reply to Paul, her eyes glistening, but she stops when he pulls out the comlink and just stares at him, hands clasped tightly together in her lap.

Paul's comlink chirps again, "Paul? Come out here, okay? In the starport." Paul looks at Jessalyn and growls, "Great, what timing." He seems torn between just ignoring the comlink and staying with you and responding to the insistent voice.

Jessalyn closes her eyes and looks down at her hands, shoulders sagging. "Go on, Paul," she murmurs. "Who of us can refuse him, anyway?" she asks tiredly.

Paul frowns and touches Jessalyn's face with one hand. "I can," he replies gruffly. "Damnit Jessa, we never seem to get a break ... Luke can just wait for once."

Jessalyn smiles softly, and touches Paul's hand at her cheek. "But you can't, love. Go on. I know you've been needing to talk to him."

Paul's eyes go a little soft at the endearment, and spontaneously he leans over, giving Jessalyn a small kiss and a large smile. "Okay, but when I get back, you and I are going to find a nice quiet private booth in a restaurant and put up a big sign that says, "Do Not Disturb"" He stands up abruptly and tapping the link replies to Luke, "Alright, I'm on my way now," and turns to go.

You head back into the corridor.

A long but wide corridor, lined with windows that allow Calamari's bright sunlight to shaft through. The white, almost iridescent walls shimmer in the sun, casting tiny rainbows onto the floor. There are comfortable looking benches along both walls, and exits leading off to different rooms.

You go back to Calamari.

Calamari Coral City -- Main Spaceport A large docking bay, people of all races bustling between various terminals, the hum of many conversations in different tongues periodically muted by the roaring of a shuttle's engines. Expansive white walls, smooth and cold as washed stone, gleam in the soft light cast by the fixtures in the ceiling. There is the continuous shuffle of cargo being loaded and unloaded and the need to move out of harms way as a cargo lifter passes by you. Occasionally a wisp of salty air tickles your nose but it quickly fades away. A cargo lifter scoots by as it heads toward one of the private docks then disappears north toward the space platform. To the south the shapes and lights of a lively city can be seen.

-=-=-=-=-=-=<>=-=-=-=-=-=- => Jay_Langston => Khil => Luke => Ariana => Ackbar => STARFIGHTER: Incom T-65B X-wing -- Skywalker => STARFIGHTER: Sienar Lambda Class Shuttle -- Axis => Shuttle Information Board

Luke is standing near Ackbar, arms folded and discussing something.

Paul strides into the Spaceport, looking about, and when his eyes find Skywalker, he makes a beeline for him and the Mon Calamari that he is talking to.

Jay_Langston is walking around the spaceport quietly.

Luke leans past Ackbar and waves a gloved hand, "Paul!" he calls out at the distance, "Over here." he straightens and simply nods to Ackbar. His voice now quiet, "How big is the Defiant anyway?" he asks.

Paul draws up to the twosome and stands there patiently. He rocks back and forth and listens to the conversation curiously, but his face indicates that his thoughts are somewhere else entirely.

Ackbar: This creature that stands before you has a sort of reddish, thick skin that has the looks of scales about it. He stands just about short of five and a half feet, with his head perhaps taking it above five and a half. The head itself is very elongated, a slow slope back with two fish eyes set into it. A pair of nostrils are set into it, just above a thin mouth that yet extends across the radius. His hands consist of five long fingers, looking as if they might have evolved from that of a fish. Ackbar is dressed in a solid white uniform, very firm and thick, that covers him from the round neck piece straight to his feet. Insignia indicate that this is Admiral Ackbar, CO, New Republic Fleet.

Ackbar says, "It's a Corellian Gunship. About 120 meters long, crew of fourty five men. She packs quite a punch, however, for her size."

Khil nods, "Not a ship I would ever want to come up against."

Khil: You see before you a male, feline, humanoid. He is a Horansi, a Mashi Horansi. He is around 5'6" tall when standing fully straight, and he has a light, but muscular build. He moves with a fluid motion, that clearly speaks of great agility. His body is covered with jet-black fur, and his eyes are a deep golden color. As you look at his eyes, you notice a strong feeling of power and knowledge behind them. His triangular ears don't have as much fur on them, but have large tufts of fur behind them. On his hands you see the tips of what look like very sharp retractable claws. Behind him, his long tail, about 4' long, constantly sways from side to side. He is wearing a grey jacket, fit to his unusual feline body. Black tubing trims the outer edges of the collar and cuffs of the jacket. He wears smooth black dress pants. The bottoms of the tapered pantlegs are tucked into shiny black leather boots, fit to his feline paws. On his head, tilted slightly to the side is a shining bright red beret. An insignia on the left collar point of his jacket shows him to be the New Republic Military Operations Liason. A pin on the opposite side of the collar has 3 silver pip pins on it, a rank of Lt. Colonel. Around his neck hangs a strange and unique amulet proclaiming him to be one of the rare Mashis of the Horansi race. Hitched to the left side of his belt is a black leather scabbard with fine gold engravings all over it. The hilt of the sword is covered in shining red leather with gold engraving above and below it. On the right is a holstered blaster pistol.

-=-=-=-=-=-=<>=-=-=-=-=-=- => Datapad

"Paul Nighman, this is Admiral Ackbar. If you haven't swindled a ride out of Lando yet, we've got a team who can accompany you to Tatooine and look for Grathix." Luke says making the compulsory introductions. "Of course the trip will be duel in nature. No one has heard from Han."

Luke adds to Ackbar, "Oh we won't need anything -that- large."

Ackbar hmmms. "Commander, you will be going to one of hte most lawless systems in the known galaxy, that is a known hangout for smugglers and pirates. And you attempt to tell me that you willnot have need of protection?"

Khil stands up from his seat, clipping his datapad to his belt, "Well, if you'll excuse me, I have some work to see to..."

Paul offers a hand to the Admiral, "A pleasure to meet you sir," he greets him politely. Turning back to Luke he smiles crookedly. "Well, Lando said he would give me a ride, which is fine,but he also said that he was going to come with me, which might not be so fine, if you get my meaning. Of course, if you have something else in mind, that is fine ... I just need a way to get where I am going." At Ackbar's words, Paul turns a curious and concerned eye in Luke's direction.

Just when Ariana seemed to brace up her courage to approach Luke, a third person is introduced into the discussion between the Jedi and the Mon Calamari; coupling that with the sentence he spoke into his comlink, her brief window of opportunity to speak to Luke has closed. Disappointment lingers in her eyes and expression but briefly, and with a downward tug of her jacket to neaten her appearance she heads off, a backward glance indicating reluctance and regret.

Ariana: Be not fooled by the delicate nature of this young woman's features or the slightness of her frame, for in tandem with her small bone structure is a sinewy musculature and a steel in her flinty blue eyes. She embodies the notion of an iron fist in a velvet glove, from the top of her neatly trimmed and bobbed blonde hair to the tips of her polished boots. She can smile, but she typically means business. Make no mistake about that.

Ariana's preferred attire is functional and somewhat militaristic, usually tan trousers with a single piping on the outside legs, a white band-collared shirt, and a black jacket. About her waist is a black belt and, within the unfastened folds of her jacket, hangs a medium-sized blaster, holstered neatly. Her black boots shine, her clothing is lint-free; she gives off the image of someone effortlessly meticulous.

Luke replies quickly, "Protection is one thing. Taking a fort-five man gunship along is different. We don't want to attract suspicion. That's the same thing that got us in trouble over Etti. No.. just a small freighter or shuttle. A few person complement.. that's all we need. 'Sides.. " he adds, "Paul here can take care of himself." he grins wryly.

Khil has left.

Paul looks back and forth between the two of them. "Sure, I'm a grownup," he replies humorously. "I think I can manage alright ... but Luke, what is all this about? Are you coming with me ... in fact, there are a couple of things that I guess we need to figure out."

Ackbar contemplates for a long moment. "I am still very uncomfortable about this, Commander. However, gien your position and rank I cannot refuse you. THrefore, I will lend you the Lambda class shuttle."

Luke turns to Paul, "I'll meet you there." he says, "I've got something to take care of first Paul, and if Lando is taking you, the shuttle can ride escort. They'll be looking for Han. You'll be looking for what we discussed earlier."

Ackbar says, "Very well. IF you would have the passenges you wish to bring along get into the shuttle Axis, I will accompany you to the Sluis Van system."

Paul holds up one hand and clears his throat. "Ah excuse me, but what exactly are we talking about here? You're going to Kashyyyk then, as I had been told or are you coming to Tatooine along with the shuttle ... and who is in the shuttle?" Paul shakes his head to clear it, chuckling to himself.

Luke seems surprised at the abruptness of Ackbar's statement. He turns warily to Paul, "Are you ready to go now Paul? Or do you have some preparations to make first?"

Jay_Langston looks over Ariana.

Luke shakes his head, replying softly, "No. I'm not going to Kashyyyk. I'm going to Yavin. I'll meet you near Tatooine in a few days." he adds distantly, "Or Mandalore, depending on how successful you are."

Ackbar looks at Luke suddenly. "Commander..Who exactly did you intend to pilot the shuttle?"

Luke blinks, "Well.. do you have anyone available?"

Jay_Langston walks up to Ariana smiling, softly saying, "Hello."

Ackbar says, "I very well might be able to get someone."

Paul nods again. "Alright, so we hit Tatooine first and talk to Grathix ... my question to you is, is this something that Grathix approached about seriously, or just mentioned it to you casually ... in other words, is he -expecting- you to be involved?" At the new topic Paul frowns, "Well, hell, I'm a pilot," he mumbles.

Ariana was just on the way out of the spaceport when she is stopped both by Jay and by Luke's inquiry about the pilot. She can hardly ignore Jay's direct approach, however, and returns his smile with a vaguely distant smile of her own. "Good evening, sir."

Luke nods to Ackbar, then answers Paul, "He seemed fairly upfront with me about those artifacts. I guess we won't know until we get there. You'll have to be careful Paul... it may be some type of setup. Can you handle it?"

Jay_Langston's smile largens, "Hello m'lady, How are you on this fine day?

Paul sighs and stares at the ground for a moment. "Well, it's a party I've already been invited to, so I think everything will be fine ... I'm just wondering if I should mention that you and I are together on this or not."

He then grins and adds, "Besides, about every other so called "find" is a hoax ... I know my way around a shyster."

Luke lets out a thoughtful breath, "It might not be safe to go tossing my name around. Hmm.. Grathix should know that I'm on my way though."

Brow quirking at the term "m'lady," Ariana answers in that distant but polite manner of before. "Well enough, thank you." Her steely gaze angles past Jay to the trio of men behind him, then returns to the person closest to her.

Ackbar is starting to seem distinctly uncomfortable with this, as he listens.

"Alright then," Paul answers easily, "since Grathix already hinted that he could use me, I'll just play this as if I were going in solo then."

Luke smiles, before jerking up to peer at Ackbar, "Something wrong?"

Jay_Langston politely asks, "I am just a bit curious if you know of anything to do on this planet, kind of new here, and really hate to sound like a tourist."

Ariana's attention is well and truly divided now, yet she strives to maintain a semblance of decorum to Jay. "I'm newly arrived here myself, by way of Tatooine. I'd have a better chance of describing tourist opportunities there than here, sir. My apologies."

Paul looks at Luke with a strange sort of expression and then says, "Ah, there's a possibility that Shen might come along with me ... and of course since she worked for Grathix for awhile, this might come in handy, do you think?"

Jay_Langston smiles politely to Ariana, "That's understandable," then his eyes twinkle, "Am I interupting anything here?? I mean your attention seems to be more directed to those gentleman over there, " pointing at them as he says it.

Luke considers Pauls request, "She might come in handy. Maybe Grathix will be less likely to double cross us, if she's along. Sure."

Eyes snapping back to Jay, Ariana murmurs by way of apology, "I'd been intending to speak with Commander Skywalker should his time become free, yet...he's rather occupied."

An expression of relief comes across Paul's face. "Yeah, that's what I was thinking ... so when does this ship of your's leave Admiral Ackbar?" he queries, turning back to the Mon Calamari.

Jay_Langston gasps, and says rather loudly, "The Commander?"

Ariana lifts a hand in apprehensive gesturing for silence. "He's rather occupied now, sir...if you don't mind, I've been trying rather hard not to pester him."

Jay_Langston frowns, "I'm sorry, please accept my apologies. But may I inquire as to what you do that would bring you to Commander Skywalker?"

Luke seems intent on hearing Ackbar's answer, yet his attention is distracted long enough to glance over at the two people speaking.

Ariana swallows her initial and somewhat tart reponse, judging from the twist of her lip, to say, "It's nothing of significance."

Ackbar says, "Commander..I might remind you that while in possession of this shuttle, you and theo ther occupants will need to act in a matter befitting the New Republic"

Jay_Langston's face straightens, looking at Ariana, "Would you be willing to talk privately over a matter that may prove to be some importance to you."

Luke smiles at the Calamarian, "Of course Admiral." he turns the smile to Paul before adding a comment to Ackbar, "Paul here is a friend of mine, and an archeologist. I'm sure he can be expected to be professional. I have the utmost faith in him." he shrugs marginally, "Besides, your people will be along."

Paul stares at the Admiral for a minute, puzzling exactly what -that- could mean ... obviously it was nothing like Lando's decree that Paul behave accordingly to working for the dark man ... which Paul assumed meant gambling, drinking, and chasing women.

Ackbar nods. "Very well. The shuttle is located in the Sluis Van system, where we've currently got our Naval headquarters. I'm afraid, it's a half hour journey by shuttle

Paul looks at Luke suddenly at being called "friend" by the young man, and a small smile graces his lips.

Luke places a hand on Paul's arm, nearly whispering, "I'll meet you there in a few days ok?"

Luke turns and leans toward Ackbar, now fully whispering something to him..

Paul looks into Luke's eyes, the smile growing. "Don't do anything stupid while I'm gone, ya hear?" he jokes gruffly.

Whatever smile, vague and polite it may have been, that Ariana wore dissipates in the face of this inquiry from Jay. "Sir," she says quietly, "Today I have been approached by a number of men I've never met before setting foot on Calamari. I confess that I'm getting a little...leery of such invitations. No offense."

Ackbar nods to Luke. "I understand."

Jay_Langston nods politely at Ariana, "I can understand, but the business that may be of concern to you requires it.

Luke nods grimly to Ackbar and smiles toward Paul, "I won't Paul." he says chuckling softly.

That said and done, Paul turns to the Admiral once again, his eyes gleaming with excitement at the fact that things are -finally- going to start up. He gives Luke a smile and glances at the gloved hand meaningfully. "You lose any more of those and they'll have to start giving you discounts or something."

Luke eyes said hand curiously, "I think you're right." he replies.

"So Admiral, when is your ship leaving for Tatooine?" Paul asks the Mon Calamari brightly.

Jay_Langston bow politely to Ariana, "I can understand, but the business I have, may concern you greatly, and this business needs to be done discretly.

The one of Ariana's brows that was not arched now quirks upward to her hairline. "Discreet, sir? Concern me greatly? But...you don't even know who I am." This last is stated mistrustfully, as if she susecpts he does indeed know who she is.

Luke shrugs, "Great. Everything is set." he smiles warmly, "Thank you Admiral." and turns to move away.

Jay_Langston shrugs, "Well if you are not interested, its no problem to me, as far as knowing you, I was given your description."

Paul looks at the ship and smiles in anticipation. "Ah, I need to pack up my things and check in with one other person who might be accompaning me ... is there a time that would be best for you for me to report in?"

Ackbar considers. "How long do you believe that it would take?"

Luke steps away, pleased in the fact that the shuttle will soon be underway. He tosses a look over his shoulder as he ducks out of the docking bay.

Luke heads down Coral Avenue... Luke has left.

Jay_Langston looks at Ariana, "Just remember that you will have to come before me if you wish this matter to go in a manner that you would like. You will be contacted again in the near future if you pass up this oppurtunity at this time."

"Well Admiral," he adds thoughtfully, recalling a promised appointment, "if sometime tomorrow morning wouldn't be asking too much, I have something else that I need to take care of as well?"

Ackbar says, "That certainly wouldn't be a problem. Actually, to make things go faster, I'll have Sluis Van send a shuttle and a pilot."

"Given my description?" Now the young woman does sound a trifle ill at ease and somewhat guarded. "I'm not aware..." As Jay goes on to speak, she falls silent to hear him, realization dawning. "You're one of them," she sighs. "I should have realized as much."

Paul smiles at the Admiral in relief. "Then name the hour sir, and I shall be ready and waiting," he breathes gratefully.

Jay_Langston shrugs indifferently, "One of them can describe us all in many ways, be careful of how you term things.

Ackbar names a time that will coincidently be when the both of us are on.

Ariana inclines her head gracefully and answers, "I shall be, sir, just as my hope is that those looking for me realize I can be somewhat wary. Of habit."

Jay_Langston says, "Just as thoughs that are looking for you are somewhat wary..... In habit as you put it.""

Paul grins at the Admiral and replies, "Then I best be on my way so I'll be here on time. Thank you again Admiral Ackbar." he finishes enthusiastically.

A small smirk rises in Ariana's expression. "I've made ample note of that, sir. And I know those selfsame interested parties know where to find me later."

Jay_Langston bows before the lady, not taking his eyes off of her, "Careful is as careful does," he intones politely, "Ill be on my way then."

Ackbar nods towards Paul. "Farewell, then."

Paul can't help but grin at the Mon Calamari and nods, then turns on one heel and dashes out, almost at a run.

You head into the Womprats room.

Womprats Room A long but wide corridor, lined with windows that allow Calamari's bright sunlight to shaft through. The white, almost iridescent walls shimmer in the sun, casting tiny rainbows onto the floor. There are comfortable looking benches along both walls, and exits leading off to different rooms.

You head into the Barracks.

NR Spare Barracks -- Calamari(#4222RnFJ) Row upon row of meticulously made cots line in military precision down the cold, off-white walls of this plain-looking room, each separated by a barracks locker and side-table. This room is normally silent, the shadows cast by the lights above harsh and stark against the bare floor. You can see doorways leading off into private rooms and bathing rooms at the far end of the hall.

Paul comes virtually bursting into the barracks at a run, his eyes bright and excited. He looks around the room and spying Jessa, dashes over to her and pulls her up into his arms and spins her around excitedly. "Jessa! I got a ride! I got a ride! I'm finally going to be able to start my search of Mandalore!" he crows triumphantly.

As Paul yanks Jessalyn up into his arms, she gives a start and stares at him, looking flabergasted. "Oh, that's great!" she tries to add enthusiasm to her voice, forcing a smile onto her pallid face. "When are you leaving?"

Paul grins into Jessalyn's face then hugs her fiercely. "It's okay Jessa, they wanted to leave right now, but I told them that I had a date that I couldn't cancel." He draws back, smiling into her face tenderly. "I'll be leaving tomorrow morning."

"You're leavin'....?" comes a low tenorish query, from across the room. Shenner has come in practically silently from the bathing rooms, clad in her big green robe, her hair damp.

Paul whirls around at the sound of Shenner's voice. He smiles at her, his eyes bright with excitement. "Well, depending upon what you've decided, either -I'm- leaving, or -we're- leaving," he tells her breathlessly.

Jessalyn glances between them both, clearly overwhelmed. "Oh.. you're... both..." she trails off, and takes a step back from Paul, watching the exchange between them worriedly.

Shenner's gaze flicks to Jessalyn, and she murmurs, "I.... I got... more options than I thought I did...." The kid looks rather dazed all of a sudden.

Paul's hands catch Jessalyn's as she tries to pull away and turning back to her he frowns slightly in concern. "Well, I told you that I was going to invite Shen along if she wanted to come," he replies softly, his enthusiasm dropping off somewhat.

Jessalyn nods slowly at Paul's soft words, and her smile widens. "I know, Paul. And I'm glad you asked her." Swallowing hard, she looks over at Shenner with a reassuring expression, giving Paul's hands a squeeze.

Paul returns the pulse, and without letting go he looks back at Shenner. "Well Shen, I'm afraid you're going to have to make a decision ... 'cause either I head out tomorrow morning or we do." He watches the girl carefully, giving Jessalyn a quick side look and another small reassuring squeeze.

Shenner looks between the two, an uncertain smile wavering across her face. "Uh, well... ain't even seen the General..." She shoves a hand through her hair, making it stick up in damp spikes atop her head. "Calhoun, I mean...."

Paul grins at Shen. "Hmmm, well if you're coming, you'll either have to blow him off or hurry up and track the man down," he teases lightly.

Jessalyn blinks at Shenner. "Oh, dear. You didn't know? He..." She bites her lip. "He went to Kashyyyk."

Paul looks back to Jessalyn and shakes his head. "Man, things are happening really fast all of the sudden."

The girl blinks. "Oh...." This clearly comes as a surprise to her, and she saws awkwardly, "I-I'd been kinda talkin' with him about... hookin' up with the NR, see, before..." And her gaze shifts inexorably to Paul. She grins unsurely, watching him.

Jessalyn looks tired and distracted, and she slides her hands into her pockets. For a moment it seems as if she might say something to her younger friend, but she merely bends her head and moves back to allow the two to more freely discuss the matter.

Paul is practically twitching with energy, but the keeps passing his glance between the two redheads in his life.

Shenner adds, "He didn't leave me no message... he get called away or somethin'?" Shenner blurts. "See, uh, he was thinkin', maybe I-I-I oughtta be stationed with your or somethin', Jessa, I was thinkin' myself before about just joinin' the army, as a soldier, I mean, but then Paul talked to me and..." What she says last abruptly slows out of that ramble, and softens, as she eyes the man. ".... you really want me to come?"

Feeling superfluous, Jessalyn moves to Paul's side, squeezes his arm, and whispers, "I'll see you later, I'll just go for a walk.." And with that she tosses Shenner a warm smile. That distant look begins to creep back into her eyes as she turns for the door.

Paul listens to Shen ramble on for a moment and then she asks -the- question. Paul gives Shen a serious look. "I wouldn't have invited you otherwise," he replies, "but I also think that going with Jessalyn is a good idea." As Jessalyn passes him to leave, Paul reaches out an arm, catching one of hers and frowning. "Jessalyn, wait," he murmurs, "please?"

Jessalyn gives a start, blinking largely at Paul. "I just figured that you two need to discuss... this...." she says uncomfortably, but manages a smile. One of her hands has curled into a tight ball, as if she is holding on tightly to something held inside the palm.

Shenner's brow crinkles as she says plaintively to Jessalyn, "Don't go....?" Her tone makes her sound very young.

Ignoring Shenner for the moment, Paul takes a step closer to Jessalyn, his gaze loving and concerned. "I'm taking you out to dinner," he intones firmly. He touches her clenched hand gently.

Jessalyn's shoulders wilt a little, and her eyes soften as she focuses her gaze back upon the two more clearly. "All right. I didn't mean for you to think I was running away..." She looks at Paul sheepishly, a hint of color finally rising into cheeks that have heretofore been deathly pale.

Paul smiles into her eyes warmly. "No, no, that's my trick, remember?" he teases her gently, tugging on her hand gently back toward the bunk.

"And mine," Shenner mutters, sheepishly.

Jessalyn chuckles. "And Luke's. We should start a club." She smiles at Paul as he pulls her back to the bunk with him. "All right, dinner. I'm actually starting to feel hungry now."

Shenner blinks, looking slightly taken aback. "You're... gonna go now? To dinner, I mean?"

Paul turns his head curiously at Shenner's comment, his expression puzzled as he has no idea what she is refering to. He turns back to Jessalyn and grins encouragingly. "Huh, I think I should be the founding member," and then looking back at Shenner he says, "Well, maybe it would be a good idea for you to consider your options without any pressure one way or the other?"

Jessalyn follows Paul's gaze toward Shenner as she goes to lean against the locker, and after a moment she looks down into her open palm, frowning slightly and looking distracted.

Shenner studies Jessalyn a moment, then offers, "I'd... be happy if you two could.... be happy with one another, if you're both about to leave off to go somewhere. I don't really wanna choose to leave either of yah, you know?"

Paul smiles at Jessalyn and then smiles back at Shen. "We are happy with one another Shen, everything between me and Jessalyn is aces." He gives Jessalyn another loving look and a smile. "It's just that everytime we get to talk, we either have a fight or get interupted ... so since we aren't fighting anymore, I promised her a nice private dinner, just the two of us." He then frowns at Shen's dilema. "We aren't asking you to choose between us, but to decide what it is that -you- want to do ... and remember, if you go with Jessalyn, it's not like you won't see me again ... I'll come to see the both of you just as soon as I'm done. And of course, if you come with me, then you'll see Jessalyn again as soon as we're finished." he adds thoughtfully.

Jessalyn glances at Paul and smiles slightly, looking pleased, but at a loss for words herself. She bites her lip, draws breath to speak, and then frowns, not knowing what else to say.

Paul looks to Jessalyn and then back to Shen. "Tell you what, we'll go have dinner, you get dressed and do some thinking ... you don't have to decide everything while we're gone, just consider your options ... and then when we get back, we can talk about it, alright?"

Shenner swallows a little and nods to you both. "Yeah... I, uh..." She glances down to her hands, and adds ruefully, "I better rebandage my hands anyway."

Paul frowns in concern. "Why don't you wait and I'll do that for you when I get back ... you really can't do it on your own ... it's a two hand job."

Jessalyn rubs her hand across her forehead, looking pale again. She stuffs one hand into her trouser pocket and seems to rummage around, then lifts her chin, looking expectant.

Shenner blinks a little, and looks for a moment as though she might argue, her gaze remaining on her hands for a minute. She then looks up, and asks you both shyly, "You'll talk with me when you get back?"

Paul straightens and crosses his heart somberly. "I promise," he intones gravely.

Shenner half-grins, and then looks to Jessalyn hopefully. "You too?"

Jessalyn bites her lip, and nods to Shenner. "Of course, dear. I'm not going anywhere for a while."

Paul beams at the resolution of the matter and says, "Well, alright then!" Offering a hand to Jessalyn he says, "Ready?"

The young girl nods, then grins crookedly at you both. "Y'all go have a good dinner, then, hey?"

Jessalyn takes Paul's hand, straightening her shoulders. "Yes, I'm ready," she says quietly.

Paul takes her hand gently and then grinning at Shen quips, "Alright, we're off to battle some sushi! We'll take down as many of the enemy as we can and be back before breakfast," and with that, he tugs on Jessalyn's hand and head out of the barracks.

Jessalyn has left.

You head back into the corridor.

A long but wide corridor, lined with windows that allow Calamari's bright sunlight to shaft through. The white, almost iridescent walls shimmer in the sun, casting tiny rainbows onto the floor. There are comfortable looking benches along both walls, and exits leading off to different rooms.

You go back to Calamari.

Calamari Coral City -- Main Spaceport A large docking bay, people of all races bustling between various terminals, the hum of many conversations in different tongues periodically muted by the roaring of a shuttle's engines. Expansive white walls, smooth and cold as washed stone, gleam in the soft light cast by the fixtures in the ceiling. There is the continuous shuffle of cargo being loaded and unloaded and the need to move out of harms way as a cargo lifter passes by you. Occasionally a wisp of salty air tickles your nose but it quickly fades away. A cargo lifter scoots by as it heads toward one of the private docks then disappears north toward the space platform. To the south the shapes and lights of a lively city can be seen.

-=-=-=-=-=-=<>=-=-=-=-=-=- => STARFIGHTER: Incom T-65B X-wing -- Skywalker => Shuttle Information Board

Jessalyn heads down Coral Avenue... Jessalyn has left.

You decide to investigate the aesthetic delights of the Coral City.

Calamari Coral City -- North Coral Avenue An extensive thoroughfare, the road, made of smooth pearly white sea rocks with irregular hues of pink, glistens under the warm rays of the sun. Residential buildings that seem to have sprung from the very depths of the dark blue oceans tower into the sky. However, these structures, made of a pale blue almost translucent material, are not nature's ingenuity, but that of the Mon Calamari. Cataracts of leaves, rustling in the cool breeze, flow from large trees providing plenty of shade. Many citizens walk to and fro, either to disappear into their dwellings or to quickly pause before a fountain and refresh themselves with its sparkling waters. To the west, you catch a glimpse of coral hills which lure you to take a stroll through the Coral Gardens, and coming from the south you hear the distinct sound of water rushing against cold stone, a pleasant call for you to head into the city's center square. Toward the north is the spaceport.

-=-=-=-=-=-=<>=-=-=-=-=-=- => Jessalyn

Jessalyn heads toward the city's center square. Jessalyn has left.

You head toward the city's center square. Calamari Coral City - Coral City Square This vast square, the ground paved with the same pearly white sea rock as the avenue, is deeply cherished by the citizens of Coral City. The plaza slopes downward toward an imposing fountain where the likeness of a Mon Calamari looking upward toward the ocean blue sky and that of a Quarren, its eyes cast down toward the depths of the fountain, have been etched in stone, the salty water streaming like salty tears down their silent faces. Erected to honor the symbiotic relationship that these two races have shared, it is a relic of a once peaceful past when the ocean of space was but a distant dream. Many citizens come here to reminisce, or to rest awhile before continuing on their way. Large crowds gather as a constant flow of people arrive from the west where the city's Commercial District is to be found, or from the Market District to the east. What appear to be the wealthier citizens of Coral City continue on their way southward onto Coral Avenue. Others, not so wealthy, make their way on the northbound stretch of the avenue.

-=-=-=-=-=-=<>=-=-=-=-=-=- => Jessalyn => Coral City Information Booth

You stroll southward on Coral Avenue.

Calamari Coral City -- South Coral Avenue The avenue continues its southward stretch, the street paved with smooth pearly white sea rocks of irregular hues of pink glistening under the sun. Surrounding you are lofty buildings, made of a verdant translucent material with spacious terraces and waterspouts on every roof, the water cascading down into small gullies. The colorful plant-life has been manicured into extravagant gardens, the leaves, vines and flowers pressing against the homes of the wealthy Mon Calamari citizens. Every so often you catch a glimpse of the inside of one of the homes when a window or door opens and you notice that the interior beauty matches or perhaps even surpasses that of the exterior. Passing you on the street are the well to do citizens either enjoying a pleasant stroll or whizzing by in their expensive hovercars. You turn to look south and a two story building that tapers upward catches your interest. To the north the avenue leads you to Coral Square.

Jessalyn strolls down the street just arriving from Coral Square. Jessalyn has arrived.

The doorman quickly opens the restaurant's door and you step inside.

The Rusty Urchin Restaurant The Rusty Urchin, a restaurant with high vaulted ceilings, the chandeliers dangling freely filling the room with a pale light, is one of the most celebrated and most frequented establishments of Coral City. Well to do Calamari citizens, business persons and even merchants dressed in their finest attire flock here to relish in both the restaurant's elegance and food. The intimate round tables of a coral hue are meticulously set with the finest porcelain, resembling smooth pink shells, stained glass and silverware. The cerulean walls, mirroring a calm sea, add to the pleasantness of the restaurant and certainly makes the eating experience here an enjoyable one. Waiters are seen moving from table to table carrying large trays laden with the most exquisite seafood cuisine, the lively chatter of the patrons blending with the sound of plates being set upon tables and the roar of the distant waves. A spiraling stairway, the steps a marble white, climbs upward toward the Veranda where a couple can be seen slipping away to in search of an even more intimate place.

-=-=-=-=-=-=<>=-=-=-=-=-=- => Rukbar

Jessalyn enters the restaurant, nodding quickly at the doorman. Jessalyn has arrived.

Rukbar: Rukbar is a tall, slender Calamarian who carries herself with grace and confidence. Her salmon skin has a slight purple undertone to it, and her hands are tatooed so to aid her in directing her staff silently from anywhere in the restaurant's main dinning room. Her uniform is as immaculate as the service provided for all diners.

Jessalyn takes a seat in the booth.

You sit in the booth.

This booth is as inviting as any other in the Rusty Urchin Restaurant. Meals are served with bowls of chutneys, pickled vegetables, noodles, and broth.

Jessalyn settles into the booth and folds her hands on top of the table, gazing down at them quietly. Every now and then she glances at you and smiles a little.

A waiter whisks over silently, depositing two menu's and a wine list. He greets you both quietly and discreetly, lighting a small lamp at the table before vanishing just as smoothly.

Paul smiles at the speediness of the service and then grins at Jessalyn. "Well, this is much better than the service on Palahni," he teases lightly. He just looks at Jessalyn for awhile, his face affectionate. "You really do have the best of smiles, do you know that?" he offers softly.

Jessalyn blushes a bit and lowers her lashes. "You're such a flatterer, Paul." She shifts so that her elbow is resting on the table, her chin in her hand, and her face is turned more fully to regard you. "But it's kind of you to say so, you know."

Paul snorts indelicately. "Flattery schmattery, I'm serious here." He opens the menu idly, his eyes widening in delight as sushi is indeed one of the options here. "Mmmm-mmm," he growls in delight, "I know what I'm having." He looks up into Jessalyn's appraising gaze and blinks.

Jessalyn's lips turn up slightly, demurely, and she picks up her own menu to peruse its offerings. But her gaze only flicks down at it briefly before she looks back at you, running a smooth fingertip over the edge of the menu.

Paul flicks his gaze to the menu and makes a mental note of what he wants and then raises his gaze back to yours. He blinks again and says, "Credit for them," curiously, reaching for the wine list.

Jessalyn closes the menu and sets it back down on the table in front of her. "Maybe I'm not as hungry as I thought," she muses to herself, then, glancing over, she smiles a bit more brightly. "And you're leaving... tomorrow?"

Paul cocks his head to one side slightly, a touch confused. "Hmmm, well you should order something extravagant anyway, my treat after all. Besides, you told me yourself you can't recall the last time that you've eaten ... that -can't- be good." He peruses the wine list. "Yeah, unless something comes up, it looks like Admiral Ackbar will kindly shuttle me to Tatooine tomorrow morning," he replies off-handedly. Then his eyes widen as something on the wine list catches his eye and fills it with a wicked gleam.

Jessalyn watches you in silence and curiosity for a while, tapping a finger against her cheek. Finally she speaks, "See something you like?" as she notes the expression on your face.

Paul nods craftily. "Yeah," he purrs softly and then looking up he smiles at Jessalyn almost seductively. "You." He then chuckles and tapping the wine list he replies more seriously, "If you'll allow me to choose the wine for us?"

Jessalyn nearly laughs aloud, but she bites her lip to keep from doing so. She shakes her head and pushes the menu away from her. "Fine with me. I'll have whatever you're having, too."

Paul chuckles softly and then closes the menu. "You like sushi?" he asks, just to be safe. He signals with his hand and like magic, your waiter is suddenly there. In fact, he startles Paul, who turns his head idly to suddenly see the waiter and actually jolts slightly.

Jessalyn grins widely. "Sure, sounds good to me." She relaxes into her posture, the arm with its bent elbow on the table barely holding up the weight of her head as she leans against it. "Don't forget that wine, too."

Paul turns his head to the waiter and says, "We would like to have the Calarian Nigri and Maki dish, for two please?"

The waiter nods approvingly and adds, "An excellent choice sir, the Unagi and Sake' are especially fresh, as is the Hamachi and Uni."

Paul grins in delight and then passing the menu's back to the waiter says, "And I would also like a bottle of the Charinelle Finte'."

The waiter's eyes widen with surprise and impressiveness. "The vintage bottle sir?" he asks in a tone of respect.

Paul gives him a saucy grin and replies, "What else?" The waiter bows and replies, "Excellent, I will be back momentarily," and slides away.

Paul grins in delight.

Jessalyn looks a bit taken aback at this exchange, and she looks at Paul incredulously. "You're not going to spend your last credits on me, are you?" she chides gently.

Paul grins at Jessalyn and replies teasingly, "Don't worry, I'll say this is a business meeting, and then Lando will be paying." He chuckles at bit at that thought, as if suddenly considering actually doing so.

Jessalyn does finally laugh at that. "That's what I would do," she grins, then leans back in her seat, hands folded in her lap. "I'm glad we've had a chance to talk before you go," she says more somberly.

Leaning back into the soft booth seat, Paul places his hands on the table in front of him. "I wouldn't have left if I couldn't spend some time with you first," he replies honestly. The wine arrives, and the waiter opens the bottle and gives Paul the first taste. He swirls the glass like a conisseur, taking in the bouquet and then a taste. He nods in approval, which was never doubted and the waiter serves you both and then discreetly vanishes again.

Jessalyn looks slightly perplexed as she reaches for the stem of her wine glass, tracing her fingers along it idly before lifting it to her lips. "That's a little surprising," she says just as honestly, swallowing the delicately flavored wine. "But.. it's a nice change," she adds hastily.

Paul flushes slightly at the unpleasant reminder and takes a sip of this wine to cover his discomfort. "Well I never break a promise," he says firmly.

Jessalyn sets down her glass and stares into it silently, her expression darkening somewhat. "I don't know that I've heard you make a promise to me, Paul," she says quietly.

Paul raises his eyes to Jessalyn's slowly, running through his memory and coming up short himself. "Was there one specific one that you wanted?" he asks curiously, offering her the option of selecting one of her choice.

Jessalyn shrugs, turning her gaze back down to her glass. "Nothing in particular."

At the table, Paul_Nighman stares down at his hands for a moment and then looks Jessalyn in the face directly. "Jessalyn Valios, I make you the following promises. I promise that I will always be your friend, I promise that I won't run away from you ever again, and I promise that when I'm done on Mandalore, that I will come to see you, wherever it is that you might be."

At the table, Jessalyn smiles softly at Paul as he speaks to her, though her eyes remain fixed elsewhere. "Thank you, Paul. That means a lot to me. I'll..." Her voice quivers slightly. "I'll always be your friend, too."

The arrival of the food breaks the awkward moment, and Paul draws back his hands as the sumptuous feast of sushi is placed before them along with dishes of pontzu sauce for dipping into. All of the food is beautifully prepared and arranged, being as much a banquet for the eyes as for the mouth. Paul smiles at the food's arrival but gives Jessalyn a furtive worried look. He picks up a piece and dipping it into the sauce, takes a bit of it, his eyes rolling in delight. "Oh Gods, this is so unbelieveably fresh," he growls in pleasure.

Jessalyn takes a much more tentative bite, savoring the taste, and then adding more sauce to the next morsel. "It is good," she agrees quietly.

Paul smiles at Jessa's comment and then picks up a piece of unagi, nice and hot, and pops into his mouth ... and then closes his eyes, his face becoming rapturous, almost orgasmic. He sighs in astonishment and points to the small cluster that is there. "Ohhhh-hh, Jessa, you -have- to try this," he practically moans.

At the table, Jessalyn looks at Paul with some amusement as she reaches for the plate he'd pointed out and picks up a piece of unagi. She closes her eyes as she takes a bite, then smiles briliantly at him. "I'm letting you order from now on!" she declares, reaching for her wine glass and taking a generous sip.

"Okay," he replies amiably, trying a spicy tekka maki roll next. After finding it much to his liking he frowns slightly. "So, before Luke called me, we were having an actual conversation ... did you want to finish it, or was it something that you would rather -not- talk about?" he queries gently.

Jessalyn toys with her napkin distractedly. "I... I don't mind talking about it, but..." She leans back against the seat and looks up at you. "It's all a little scary for me, right now." She reaches to touch your arm tentatively, and brushes her cheek against your shoulder.

Paul's hand strays over to the one Jessalyn has rested on his arm, and he covers her delicate wrist. "Yeah, I bet ... well if you want to talk about it, just let me know okay?" As her cheek rests against his shoulder, Paul experiences the all too familiar rush of affection and attraction. It just hovers there on his horizon, not going anywhere in this particular reality, which is perhaps why they don't distress him ... because he knows that there is no place for them to go.

Jessalyns cheek rubs soothingly against your shoulder again, and the long dark lashes close over her bright, tired eyes. "I will. Though I'm not sure how much good it will do. Her other arm moves around so that both of them are wrapped around yours, hugging it close.

Feeling a trill of attraction run through his nervous system, Paul smiles down at the auburn haired head leaning against him. "Good," he murmurs, his voice unusually deep for a moment. "It's always good to get fears out in the open. Helps dissipate them."

Jessalyn finally looks up at your face, her eyes heavy-lidded. "I have plenty of them to unload, believe me," she says somberly, and reaches for her wine glass. "It's just so hard to imagine myself being... anything like the two of them," she muses, then adds quickly, to you, "Luke and the princess, I mean." The hand around your arm loosens, then begins a slow descent until her fingers find yours and curl around them.

Paul mmm's at that comment, taking in Jessalyn's lazy gaze and feeling an unexpected jolt at that moment, her face illuminated by the candle light and her eyes looking almost sultry, her hands unintentionally caressing. "Well, I'm sure they probably would have thought the same thing way back when," he murmurs, his hand accepting the request of hers.

Jessalyn's fingers tighten, and her smile turns playful. "Oh, come now. She was ... always a princess. Always somebody. And he's her brother..." Her free hand twirls the glass around, and she watches the candlelight play through the translucent wine. "I'm just an orphan. A nobody." The lashes lower again over her eyes as she replaces the wine glass, pushes it away. "No wonder he doesn't want me. He can't. And it doesn't even matter anymore." She wilts back against you, seeking the strength and warmth of your arm as she bends her head, hiding her expression, the candlelight glinting golden lights off her hair.

Paul frowns at Jessalyn, the warm surges growing more insistent. He mentally shrugs them off and reaches one hand to gently caress the cascading flow of gold and auburn. "A nobody? I don't think so ... or if you are, then so is pretty much everyone I've ever met." he rejoins. Then after a thoughtful pause he murmurs, "I had heard that Luke was an orphan too ... on Tatooine ... I'm sure for a long time he considered himself a nobody too." He sighs and the looks at the flame flickering in it's glass shell. "And if he doesn't want you, well that's his loss then ... if things were different, I would woo you like nobody's business," he says softly.

Jessalyn's slender frame tenses slightly, and she slowly, reluctantly, pulls away to look up at your face. "Oh, Paul. You really are such a flatterer," she says gently, a hint of sadness weaving through her voice, even regret.

Paul chuckles a little and reaches for his glass and takes a sip. "If I didn't know better, I'd say that was the second time you just called me a liar," he teases gently. He gives Jessalyn a look, and for a flash of a second he lets down his guard, letting a hint of the conflicting emotions and his attraction for her show in his eyes, and then he raises the shields again. "I said it before and I'll say it again, you certainly got under my skin fast." He reaches for another piece of sushi, not wanting to make Jessalyn feel uncomfortable, but wanting her to know the true lay of the land.

Jessalyn does notice that expression as it flashes over his eyes, and her brows furrow together with confusion. She shifts nervously, glancing away, and bowls over Paul's last words by reverting back to the other subject. "It's not his loss, Paul. It's definitely mine," she murmurs softly, more to herself than to him. Tilting her head, she leans a bit closer, trying to get a good look at his face. "I think that my getting under your skin has been more of an irritation than anything," she adds with a tender smile.

Paul sees her small distress at his admission and touches her hand gently, in a comforting gesture. "Well, that's only because I scratched," he teases back. Then more somberly he adds, "It's okay Jessa, I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable, and just wanted you to know that it wasn't just flattery, okay? I mean, nothing's different between us, is it?" he queries, a hint of worry entering his expression as he begins to wonder if he has just made a crucial mistake here.

She shakes her head, an aching unbearable sadness shadowing her eyes as she places her other hand over his. "No, love, of course not." The lashes tremble over her eyes as she closes them for a moment, struggling. "It doesn't matter anymore, for any of us, does it?" she says in a muffled voice.

Watching Jessalyn drop further and further into a pit of despair begins to make Paul panic a bit. "Well, I wouldn't go -that- far," he replies gently, desperatly searching for a way to buck her up, but finding nothing tangible to grasp. He pats her hand soothingly instead.

"I never knew I could miss something so much.. that had never even existed," she muses sadly, unaware of Paul's anxiety. Then she shakes her head, looking back at him with a bittersweet smile. "You know, part of me is afraid I'll become like him. That I.. won't be able to .. be human anymore, the way he avoids..." she finally chokes out the word, "Me." Her voice becomes more earnest and she leans closer, eyes bright. "I don't want to become unreal, Paul. I want to live, and love, and have all the things that ordinary people have."

Paul frowns and once again, shelves his own concerns. "Well, Luke is only one man ... I mean you can't base all of your expectations on his example ..." Not knowing any other Jedi's other than Alora, Paul keeps his trap shut on what examples she should look to and then at thought catches his mind. "I mean consider Leia. Sure, she's got duties and responsibilities, but those are seperate from her being, uh, with the Force," that little phrase coming out awkwardly, as if Paul thought it was a pretty stupid way to put it. "I mean she's even married, and with a man like Solo, I seriously doubt that theirs is a passionless union," he adds with a small quirk of a smile.

Jessalyn has the grace to blush at the very notion. "Maybe you're right," she says slowly, and the smile brightens her face again. "I'm sorry, Paul, I don't mean to ramble on about this. I'll be all right. I ... " Her eyes study his face carefully, still sad, but lit by her smile. "I'll miss you and Shenner," she finally finishes in a soft voice, looking at you searchingly.

Paul returns her searching gaze warmly. "Well don't count Shen's chickens before they hatch, she might be going with you after all," he teases. Paul smiles at Jessalyn's step back from the abyss. "I'll miss you too," he replies softly, his hand automatically reaching up to caress her cheek thoughtfully.

Jessalyn breathes deeply, smiling at the touch. "You'll come to visit," she says, assuring herself, and she impulsively turns her cheek to press her lips against his palm, her eyes closed.

Paul watches her kiss his palm in awe. "I'll come to visit," he confirms breathlessly.

Jessalyn opens her eyes slowly, her soft cheek rubbing against his hand. "Aren't you hungry?" she asks playfully, flicking a glance toward the table full of food. Something sparkles in her expression teasingly.

Paul swallows hard and giving Jessalyn a shaky grin he growls, "Woman you are dangerous." Leaving his right hand where it is, he picks up a piece of sushi with his left, dunks it, and then he toasts her with it and takes a bite.

Jessalyn gives a short, bemused laugh. "How sweet of you to say so," she replies lightly, and reaches to cradle her wine glass in both hands, looking thoughtful.

Pauls eyes darken for a moment and in a voice that flows warmly like a good Corellian brandy he replies, "There you go, calling me a liar again."

Jessalyn turns her head slightly, resting her elbows on the table, her glass held in front of her face. She takes a sip, then gives Paul a warm smile. "Are you going to prove me wrong, Paul?" she challenges lightly.

At the table, Paul_Nighman's eyes remain dark and steady, but his voice sounds just a little odd when he replies, "If I tried to, you'd probably slap me again."

At the table, Jessalyn smiles ruefully to herself, and she stares down into her glass, remaining quiet for a very long moment. "I see," she whispers, barely audible, and not entirely in response to your words.

Paul watches his hand disobey him and reach out to catch Jessalyn's chin gently, pulling her face closer to his own. He absently caresses the underside of her jaw in an intimate gesture, his eyes direct on hers and burning. "What do you see?" he whispers.

Jessalyn's long lashes blink with surprise, her lips parting to speak -- but words never come. She seems to shrink somewhat beneath that burning gaze, and her cheeks begin to brighten. "I -- I don't know," she finally stammers, awestruck.

Paul's gaze sweeps over hers for a moment and hoping he can plead temporary insanity, he murmurs softly, "I'm no liar," as if he were determined to defend his honor or something. The words pour over Jessalyn like warm honey, and then Paul's head dips and he brushes his lips against Jessalyn's once, twice, in a tempting way before he claims her lips with his own, the kiss seductive, encouraging, and curious, as he samples the nectar of her mouth.

Jessalyn's head moves slightly away at the first soft brushing of Paul's mouth, but she remains still after that, her own soft lips trembling beneath his as he presses the kiss harder. She moans low in her throat, feeling her face burning, and her fingers clench tightly around his arm as if to steady herself.

Paul lets the hand slide along her jaw in a feathery stroke to the back of Jessalyn's head, pressing his fingers gently against the base of her skull and then trailing up into her hair, holding her there for his drugging kiss. His other hand moves to her throat, trailing down from the corner of her jaw to the dip between her collarbones.

Jessalyn's heart pounds furiously in her chest, her hungry need for affection and her emotions battling against each other. The hand clutching his arm moves up around his shoulders, the slender fingers trembling as they press against the nape of his neck, pulling him closer to her as she urges him on.

Originally planning on pulling back, Paul finds himself entangled in Jessalyn's arms and her need. He helplessly growls deep in his throat and his kiss becomes more impassioned and demanding, probing Jessalyn's mouth in earnest now. The hand lingering at the base of her throat trails down along her shoulder and to her back, stroking seductively along the way, only to stop at the small of her back and make a slow and devestating journey back up along the length of her spine.

Jessalyn returns the kiss feverishly, both arms going around his shoulders now. But after a long and very hot moment she pulls herself away and stares at him with huge round green eyes, her lips red and throbbing.

Paul stares down at Jessalyn, his eyes still holding traces of desire, but filling with surprise as well as a touch of concern. "Whoa," he breathes softly. His hands ease their tight grip on the woman before him. "Jessalyn," he murmurs breathlessly, "I ... I ... are you alright?"

Jessalyn nods, looking like she is doing her level best to push something from her mind -- wrestling, threatening, anything to make it go away. She swallows hard, her own voice a mere breath as she leans toward him again and whispers, "Do that again..."

Paul's eyes darken furiously at her request, feeling a flood of need and desire, as if all of the pent up passion of the last few days just refuses to be held back any further. He takes her into his arms roughly, his mouth descending upon her and plundering it, his frame trembling slightly as part of him squeals in protest of his actions. He ruthlessly squashes the little voice, one hand delving into her hair and the other pulling at her hip, dragging her closer to him.

Ariana enters the restaurant, nodding quickly at the doorman. Ariana has arrived.

Ariana: Be not fooled by the delicate nature of this young woman's features or the slightness of her frame, for in tandem with her small bone structure is a sinewy musculature and a steel in her flinty blue eyes. She embodies the notion of an iron fist in a velvet glove, from the top of her neatly trimmed and bobbed blonde hair to the tips of her polished boots. She can smile, but she typically means business. Make no mistake about that.

Ariana's preferred attire is functional and somewhat militaristic, usually tan trousers with a single piping on the outside legs, a white band-collared shirt, and a black jacket. About her waist is a black belt and, within the unfastened folds of her jacket, hangs a medium-sized blaster, holstered neatly. Her black boots shine, her clothing is lint-free; she gives off the image of someone effortlessly meticulous.

Ariana lingers on the outermost fringes of the restaurant, declining an offer of seating, to gaze across the collection of patrons, as inobtrusive as possible and certainly without distrupting present conversation.

At the table, Jessalyn is pulled closer to Paul with little resistance, her body shaking almost violently in his arms as he presses her against him. She moans into his mouth and clutches at his shoulders furiously, her lips trembling and her mouth sweet and warm as he kisses her.

Ariana's eyes narrow slightly in recognition of the man at the booth, and she shifts positions to watch more closely.

Paul draws her against him, his mouth leaving hers and tracing kisses down the line of her slender neck, pausing at the rushing pulse at the base of her throat. He raises his arm to drag her across his body. Bonking into the table is what finally helps bring Paul to his senses somewhat and he draws away from Jessalyn reluctantly, his body trembling with the effort. He looks around for a second and taking in their surroundings yet again, he manages to rasp softly, "Ah, Jessalyn ..."

Jessalyn, her face red, her expression shocked and embarrassed, draws away from Paul just as readily as he does from her. In fact, she moves as far away from him in the booth as she can, and covers her face with her hands. "Luke," she moans helplessly, and turns away from him, her shoulders shaking hard.

Paul sits there for a moment, completely in shock and his body still raging. He can't seem to stop trembling as he realizes that once again he has ruined everything. He tentatively touches Jessalyn's shoulder with one shaking hand. "Oh Gods, Jessalyn, please, it was just ... just ... " but he can't finish, not wanting to belittle the experience and yet needing to make light of it at the same time.

Since her attention was, albeit discreetly, on the far booth, Ariana has a fairly unobstructed view of the intimate interaction between the Corellian and the major. Despite the cool lighting of the environment, the blush that floods into her cheeks might glow for meters around her. Her gaze flickers away at once then, like a moth to flame, is drawn back again.

Eddie_Halwinder enters the restaurant, nodding quickly at the doorman. Eddie_Halwinder has arrived.

Eddie_Halwinder strides in, at a casual, brisk pace, his Blondish hair hangs down in his eyes, though he occasionally brushes it out of his eyes. His blues eyes scan the area, and he walks over to a table.

Jessalyn turns slowly to face Paul, her eyes miserable but still smoldering. "It's not your fault, Paul," she murmurs, and reaches for him gently, hugging him against her as she tries to explain. "I do care for you, you know that? I just.. I know that I don't love you -- not like that. Not like I feel about...." she swallows hard, squeezing her eyes shut. "Part of me does want this, but I don't want you to think that it's... something it isn't..." It takes a great deal for her to get the words out, and she flinches slightly at how cold they sound.

Curiosity must be the Achilles' heel of the young woman across the room from the booth, since the more intimate the discussion grows, the more drawn to the conversation she becomes. A slight incline of the head gives the maitre d' permission at last to seat her, and Ariana finds herself positioned close enough to that selfsame booth for more discreet viewing.

In the Corner, Eddie turns slightly to see Jess and Paul talking, he seems rather unintrested, by the expression on his face, he slightly shrugs his shoulders, and he looks away, maybe not wanting to violate the privacy of the couple.

Paul wraps his arm around Jessalyn with affection and care. "Yeah, I know," he replies softly and gives her a gentle squeeze. "I guess you can say the same of me, I love you, but I'm not -in- love with you," he murmurs thoughtfully, comparing the two forms of caring, so similar, and yet completely different. "I think we're on the same level here, because as much as I find you utterly desirable, well, I know that it isn't the right thing ... at least for you." He sighs deeply and leans his head on Jessalyn's shoulder for a change. "I can't say I'm sorry that I kissed you ... it was too lovely. But I am sorry for putting you in such a difficult position."

Ariana averts her gaze from the table, since ears suffice for what she wishes to learn from the couple in the booth. Moreover, romance is not precisely her cup of proverbial tea just now, so she grants them a fraction more privacy and herself a fraction more mental peace to think. That does not mean, however, one ear is not quirked to hear the rest of the tale from Paul and Jess.

Jessalyn smiles warmly, but there is a hint of disappointment in her eyes and in her voice as she speaks to him quietly, her fingers stroking the nape of his neck. "Still the flatterer, aren't you, Paul? I guess after all this time -- and all the compliments you've ever hurled at me -- I should tell you that you are pretty damn gorgeous yourself." She pauses thoughtfully, sighing. "It's not like Luke will ever notice me that way. Sometimes I wonder what my life is going to be like. I'm condemned to spend the rest of my life being with him, yet I can never have him the way I dream of. It's not going to be easy at all." She bites her lower lip and pulls away from him. "I can't say that I'm sorry, either, Paul. There's solace there, with you, whereas with him... there never will be." Her eyes glisten with bittersweet tears as she looks at him, hoping for understanding.

Luke. Now there's a name to arrest the attention of someone Ariana's age. How many Lukes can there be in the Republic? Her head quirks to one side, ear tuned more acutely to the conversation once more, as a sardonic smile twitches her lips upward; interest in their quiet chatting has been restored to the extent that the waiter's inquiry of beverage is for naught. She never even sees him.

Eddie_Halwinder yawns slightly, his mouth widening, when hes done, he stands up, scratches his chin, and strides over to the door, his usual casual, brisk pace as he walks. When he reaches the door, he swings it open, and he walks out, while brushing some hair out of his eyes.

Eddie_Halwinder waits for the doorman to open the door and steps out onto the street. Eddie_Halwinder has left.

Not responding to her compliment, Paul merely sighs softly, his head raising from her shoulder. "Well, none of us knows what our lives are going to be like ... if someone had told me a month ago and I would be here with you and the rest of our merry little band, I think I would tell them that they were crazy. I mean, I haven't stopped anywhere for this long in years." His gaze tries to comfort Jessalyn's fretful features. "All you can do is hang on for the ride and see where it takes you." He smiles a little then. "Of course I'll be riding right behind you, and if you ever decide to take a detour, well you just let me know, okay?"

Verin arrives, his drab outfit making him no immediate center of attention. He plods over to the bar, and hauls himself up onto a chair, ordering--his exact words--"Something green," and he gets it. A drink. A green one.

Verin: Tall but slender, Verin has a quiet, unassuming demeanor and a muscular build. Short, neatly cropped blond hair is combed to the side, and curled tendrils occasionally drift into his face. He eyes are light green, prominent on his round, cleanly shaven face. Unquestionably human, Verin appears to be in his early twenties, and has a gruff, abrupt mannerism about most of his movements. His voice is a soft baritone, often questioning, giving light to his relative youth.

Ariana cannot resist a mild chuckle at the melodramatic tone of the man's last statement, along with a faint head shake. Fingers idly toy with her utensils as she orders simple tea to accompany whatever meal she ends up ordering, which at least allows the misfortunate waiter to end his patient wait for a request from the customer. Alone again at her table, she swivels to her left just a trifle to venture a glance over her shoulder.

Verin slouches for a moment, but then quickly corrects his posture; prim, proper, almost schooled to be stiff, he is, though it is difficult to be urbane while drinking something green--it is, of course, very tasty. Can't go wrong with green. Bravely, he asks: "A pretzel."

Ariana is somehow and somewhat engrossed in the conversation in the corner booth between Jessalyn and Paul, but said attention does not detract from her periphreal sight. Verin's appearance and subsequent request for something too gem-colored for her liking cause her brow to lift, particularly when a pretzel is ordered on the side. In this restaurant. Wow. She covers a smile and tucks into her salad, wondering idly what some of the greens are and why a few move.

Jessalyn suddenly grins mischievously, and tightens her hug about Paul's shoulders. "You mean... -this- ... kind of detour?" she asks in obvious reference to the scene they'd just caused, and chuckles. "Well, Paul, I'll take you up on that offer. When the object of one's devotion is as obstinate and unwavering as mine is, things are bound to get a just a tad frustrating." She laughs, despite the bitter words, and moves back to look at his face. "I could use a good... friend... like you." She places an odd emphasis on the word.

Verin's dress doesn't much indicate even a passing familiarity with the appropriate way to dress in a fine restaurant on Calamari; in fact, he even shoots the Calamari themselves suspicious looks, and fidgets, but that could possibly be attributed to the green thing he's drinking. He does look around the room, for a moment, glancing at people here and there--and fidgeting--but he does nibble on his pretzel, while the bartender moves on to serve people who are actually consistently buying expensive drinks.

Ariana expects that the exotic nature of her mobile food is a direct result from her attention on her surroundings and a single conversation nearby rather than on what she was ordering. On Alderaan, this would have been termed, and rather politely, as "bait." Sighing, she eats what she can, what doesn't outright repulse her to the nth degree, and awaits the next installment in this romance/tragedy at the nearby booth.

Paul's face breaks into a grin and he playfully pokes her side, the situaltion being encapsulated and put in it's proper place. "You -have- a good friend like me ... cause it's, well uh, me," he reminds her, playing up the "well duh" conotations of the last few words.

Verin doesn't pay much attention to As The Republic Turns, but, well, it's not his business and he's convinced, after a week of eating at this restaurant, that those squiggly things on dinner plates are probably the ground up bits of unsatisfied customers. On Coruscant, such things were termed, rather bluntly, as 'inedible.' Verin, meanwhile, finishes his drink and his pretzel, and shoots wistful looks at the Bartender--the Yes, I'm Cheap but hows'about a glass of Water look.

"Ow!" Jessalyn mutters as he pokes her ribs. "I know that Paul. But that's not what I meant!" She laughs slightly, nervously, almost afraid he will catch on to her true meaning, and she reaches for her wine glass to take a generous sip. Then she leans back, studying him carefully, and the warm glint returns to her eyes as an amused and knowing smile creeps over her flushed face.

In accordance with the polite upbringing from her diplomat father and in direct opposition to her expectations of the main course following that "I'm not dead yet; I'm feeling better" salad she was just served, Ariana thanks the waiter as he places her entree before her. At least this grilled bit of (poke prod) fish appears not only deceased but cooked and seasoned as well.

Paul's smile doesn't exactly fade, but it definitely changes somewhat. "Well, all you need to do is call, and I'll come running," he murmurs, his meaning deliberately double edged. He takes another piece of Hamachi nigri and pours more of the Finte' into both of their glasses.

Jessalyn watches the flow of wine into her glass, seeing it swirl and settle into the crystal. She is silent for a moment, then she turns and whispers something very softly to him, something lost in the din of the restaurant.

Verin eyes Ariana's entree as it passes him, on its way to her table, and he frowns; he wasn't aware there was anything on the menu that was actually dead, much less cooked. Again wistful, he tries to come up with a name for it beyond pointing and staring at Ariana's table to indicate it to another waiter who, upon having an obvious offworlder try to explain a rare sirloin to them, looks appropriately offended and suggests the sushi. In response, Verin turns and orders another green drink from the bartender, sourly.

You sense: Jessalyn breathes against your ear. "I... I think I'm calling."

Jessalyn senses, Paul blinks and his eyes darken abruptly. "Then I'm here," he whispers."

Now that her attention has shifted from the decidedly less melodramatic conversation between Jessalyn and Paul, Ariana can hardly help noticing the way Verin eyes her meal. At least she hopes it's her meal being regarded so intently. Dabbing her mouth, she rises and approaches the bar and the tall man there seated.

Jessalyn drinks slowly from her glass, the blush creeping all the way along her cheeks. She smiles somewhat shyly as she places the glass back down on the table and folds her hands together on its surface.

Eddie_Halwinder enters the restaurant, nodding quickly at the doorman. Eddie_Halwinder has arrived.

Eddie_Halwinder slips into the bar, his blue eyes peer around the restraunt catiously, he strides over to the Corner, with Crisp, long, Steps.

Paul gazes steadily at Jessalyn and waves a hand for the check. Taking a sip of his wine, he considers her flushed features. He leans over and whispers softly to her.

Jessalyn senses, "Paul_Nighman 's breath tickles your ear gently. "Where?""

Verin was, in fact, looking at the meal, for the only reason that it doesn't mind being stared at--as opposed to the other meals, and Verin does so hate apologizing to anything on his plate. Nevertheless, he does offer a sheepish grin in Ariana's direction and reaffirms his Proper and Straight posture quickly. Not that it helps him fit in with the rest of the restaurant, but he does it.

Jessalyn blushes even more, picking up the last bite off her plate and popping it into her mouth. She gives Paul a sultry sidelong look. "Hmm, good question," she says, grinning.

Ariana's answering smile is polite, a trifle cool, a touch distant. "Something amiss, sir?" she inquires in a low voice, hands folded behind her and resting on her back.

"Ah, er." Verin demonstrates the product of military academy's impact on speaking for yourself: "Uhm." Again, he grins, lopsided. "Just, ah," he clears his throat--twice--"The thing on your plate isn't wiggling." He observes astutely. "I'm not sure they prepared it properly."

The waiter returns, having never once bothered them during all of the vaious machinations that have gone on at this table. He places the check down and gives Paul a discreet bow. "Whenever you're ready sir," and silently slips away. Paul doesn't even look at the Mon Calamari, his eyes still fastened intently on Jessalyn, his face still slightly amazed and wonderous. He takes another drink and thinks for a moment. "I think I know of a place," he murmurs softly, his voice tentative.

Verin adds, hastily, "Not that I was staring at your plate. Or you. Just. Uhm. Happened to notice." Yes. Happened to. Pure chance.

Ariana naturally follows the young man's glance toward her entree, perplexity in the depths of her flinty eyes. "Despite what you might believe of the Mon Calamari, sir," she begins slowly, "they do appreciate the tastes of offworlders and offer a varied cuisine. This is tourlaki, grilled with citron sauce. I hope."

Finishing her glass, Jessalyn returns Paul's amazed gaze with a slightly bemused one. "Mm-hmm." She leans over to kiss his cheek, then eyes the check worriedly. "Put it on Lando's account," she advises.

"Oh yes," Verin drawls, "They appreciate my tastes quite a lot. Only, I made the mistake of telling them that I hated fish," he droops. "I only meant the kind that comes on the plate, but, well, the waiter was quite offended. But if it's grilled, and dead," the young man allows, tenatively, "It's probably better than fish eggs."

Paul's eyes seem to be almost all pupil now. He gives the check a glance and makes a notation on it, then closes the bill and pushes it to one side. He graces her lips with a light seductive kiss, pulling away to murmur, "Good idea." He moves to rise, tugging on her hand lightly.

Brows quirk, then eyes narrow, and a tremble of amusement ripples across Ariana's features. "There is in the Market District, I believe, a fairly reputable steak house run by a Corellian. Goodness knows from where he obtains his meat, but I'm told the food is excellent."

Jessalyn smiles, hesitates, then chuckles as Paul yanks on her hand, and she slides out of the booth behind him.

"Is there?" Verin's eyes widen. "Well. I'll have to drop by, then--only, I'm supposed to run into someone here eventually, and they tell me she frequents this place." And the rest of the galaxy. "But I'm sure she'll excuse me if I don't subsist on raw fish for her benefit."

Ariana, humourless as she may initially appear, cannot resist an outright chuckle at this declaration. "No, no," she concurs quietly, "one must not be expected to eat bait to lure someone into a meeting place." If she meant the pun, there's no indication of it on her delicate features. "You might like the fish I ordered, however. It's what one would call a meaty fish and is, as you so noted, cooked."

"A meaty fish." Verin repeats this phrase, just so he can quote her when the Calamari waiter gets ready to look overly offended. "Well. Who would've thought. Just seems to me that the Mon Calamari would want to serve something *else* on a plate, you know--take the focus away from, well, fish. Maybe some nice beef stew." Or cook some of them Twi'leks, put them to good use finally.

Verin won't even mention wookies. No, not in the same pot with something he intended to eat.

Paul picks up the bottle, still half full with his free hand. The waiter comes over and picks up the check. He bows pleasantly to Paul and Jessalyn. "Thank you sir, madam, and I hope you have a lovely evening. Come again soon." Mon Calamari's can't help but have expressive eyes, and the waiter's catch Paul's with an impressed glance and a hint of approval, before he moves along to another waiting table.

Ariana touches the sleeve of the slightly older person, leans forward as if to impart some great truth or confidence, and murmurs, "Sir...this is a seafood-oriented restaurant, and Calamari a water-based planet. Seafood, I venture to say, is very important to them."

Jessalyn glances up at Paul as the waiter approaches, then departs, and she squeezes his hand nervously. "Come on," she whispers huskily, and pulls him toward the door.

"Yes," Verin agrees aloud, "I imagine that they are." Not aloud: Of course seafood's important to them, they're related to the bloody things. Verin wouldn't want to serve *his* brothers up on a plate. "I'm, ah, not overly knowledgable about the Calamari. Never had a chance to come here until now." And that only because it was better than being on Kashhyyk. There's a slogan. Calamari: At Least You Aren't Eating Wookie Food. That very same waiter that approved of Paul promptly disapproves of Verin on his stride past, and makes this generally known with an air of disassociation--like: I don't know this customer, he's not a patron, please don't stop coming to our restaurant because of him.

Paul follows her willinging, sparing not even a glance to the rest of the patrons that they move past.

You wait for the doorman to open the door and you step out onto the street.

Calamari Coral City -- South Coral Avenue The avenue continues its southward stretch, the street paved with smooth pearly white sea rocks of irregular hues of pink glistening under the sun. Surrounding you are lofty buildings, made of a verdant translucent material with spacious terraces and waterspouts on every roof, the water cascading down into small gullies. The colorful plant-life has been manicured into extravagant gardens, the leaves, vines and flowers pressing against the homes of the wealthy Mon Calamari citizens. Every so often you catch a glimpse of the inside of one of the homes when a window or door opens and you notice that the interior beauty matches or perhaps even surpasses that of the exterior. Passing you on the street are the well to do citizens either enjoying a pleasant stroll or whizzing by in their expensive hovercars. You turn to look south and a two story building that tapers upward catches your interest. To the north the avenue leads you to Coral Square.

Paul leads Jessalyn along up through the town and out past the Transport Bay. As their path leads on toward the Academy, there are fewer people bustling about at this late hour. Paul keeps flashing Jessalyn small smiles and seductive looks, and every once in awhile, pauses unexpectedly and kisses her temptingly.

Jessalyn follows alongside Paul, cheeks flushed and eyes bright, and she laughs whenever he turns to kiss her. Only when he comes close enough to look deeply into those eyes can he see the hint of bittersweet longing in them that she struggles to control, to push aside for now. As they pass by the Academy, she looks around curiously, clinging to his hand.

Paul takes in that look and knows it well himself. It doesn't hurt him that she is thinking of Luke, because he knew that if was seven years ago, he would be thinking of someone else too. He pulls her along, pass the main bulk of the Academy and into the residential district where the professors live. He draws up to one the last houses, and there he pauses. "This is Molari's house," he whispers softly. "I'm just gonna grab something really quickly and be right back, okay?" His face is barely visible in the dim light of the moon, the rest of the area dark and free of artificial lights.

Jessalyn's eyes are colorless in the moonlight, and she nods in response. "I'll be here," she says, a tad uneasily, not certain she wants to be left alone with her thoughts for too long.

Paul regards her for an instant and then drags her to him and kisses her passionately, just in case, before darting off. He pulls a key from the mouth of a nearby statue with a small wink and let's himself in silently. Jessalyn need not have worried about losing her courage, as he is back out in a matter of seconds, carrying a large green blanket. Replacing the key, he returns to her side and takes her hand again in his.

Jessalyn squeezes the offered hand, and gives a brief nod. "Okay..." she mouths breathlessly, then looks around the area.

Paul leads her along to the edge of a cliff that looks out onto the ocean. The view is breathtaking at night, so it must be astonishing by day. There is so little light that the sky is just a rich velvet purple-black hue, so dotted with stars that it is virtually impossible to recognize any constellations. The waves crash against the rocks of the cliff somewhere farther off to their right, but the path that Paul leads you down is easy and well tread. The roar of the waves is muffled in this small inlet, where the waves lap peacefully against the shore line, having broken off on a barrier beach further out. Paul throws the blanket out on the sand, unfurling it and settling it down flat. He then returns to your side, the moonlight glinting off pale gold and silver highlights in his hair. A warm breeze fills the alcove, wrapping you both in it's gentle breath.

Jessalyn follows silently, clearly overwhelmed by the peace and beauty of the place. Nowhere else on this lovely planet has she felt herself so small and insignificant compared to its astounding beauty. Her hair, which had been pulled tightly back from her face earlier in the evening, has begun to come loose from its fastening. As she watches you placing the blanket on the sand, she bites her lower lip nervously and reaches up to unclasp it, letting the unruly waves loose around her face in their normal manner. The breeze causes it to drift into her eyes, and she has to squint through the stray locks to look at you as you return to her side.

Paul watches her hair blowing around her face and reaches out with both hands to capture it, turning it this way and that in the moonlight. His eyes meet Jessalyn's for a moment and then he waits, not wanting to force the issue on her. "Yes?" he queries gently, as if asking for permission.

Jessalyn smiles shyly as he cradles her face, and in response to his spoken word, she lets her hands rest at his waist, pulling him closer. She stands up on tiptoe so that her face draws closer to his, lips searching for that hungry kiss she tasted earlier. Her breath is warm and sweet and at this proximity the subtle fragrance of Yavin roses can be detected on her hair and skin. "Mmmm." She makes a soft, happy sound, waiting for his lips.