Toxicity and a Little Girl

[Santiago Cristobal]

Menaa, the capital city of Mrlsst: Three Days Later:

"Santiago, a pleasure to see you again." Marie Thomsdottir's eyes lit up as she shook hands with Cristobal. A medium-sized Corellian woman, Thomsdottir had white hair, grey-green eyes, and high cheekbones on a thin face. A blue and gold dress covered her figure and a large bracelet covered most of her left forearm. Cristobal couldn't help but notice, rather ruefully, Thomdottir's office was larger than his on the 'Hope For Change'. But, he decided, that did make sense since she was Incom Corporation's representative on Mrlsst. She was also, unknown to her superiors at Incom, she was the Station Chief on Mrlsst for Rebel Intelligence. And also, possibly, a traitor.

"What brings you to Mrlsst, Santiago?" Thomsdottir motioned Cristobal to take a seat in a plush chair. "Can I get you something to drink?"

"Juice please." He responded, settling in the chair. "I was just here to see if you'd anything more from the Mrlssi on our offer."

"To provide us with more hyperdrive technology?" The two Rebels kept the conversation as vague as possible, just in case one of Incom's corporate rivals had any listening devices in the office. Or the Empire. "They've agreed to give us some technology. But you know how they are about being...neutral."

Santiago smiled as the tart flavor of the Endrolian ground-apple juice slid across his tongue. "Of course. The Mrlssi have always been pretty careful about who they sell to." He smiled again. "How's everything else going?"

Thomsdottir leaned back in her chair and sighed. "Quiet. There isn't much else to report really." She leaned forward. "Why are you really here Santiago? Normally a courier comes to hear these things, not a high-ranking company official."

The Sub-director of Analysis and Cryptography sighed. "We're worried someone may be going after Cannondale and the board (he used one of Intel's codenames for Razien)."

A white eyebrow quirked and Thomsdottir almost dropped her drink. "Seriously? How good is the info?"

"Pretty solid. We had two sources confirm it."

"Could they be wrong?" Thomsdottir wasn't an analyst so her skepticism wasn't surprising.

The analyst shook his head. "I don't think so. It's all vague but something's been chewing at me on it. We think a move may be made soon."

The station chief nodded. "I'll keep my eye out for anything. How long are you in town?"

"Two or three days." Cristobal took it as his cue to leave. "Want to grab dinner?"

"I'll have to look at my schedule but you can bet on it. Thanks for the info, Santiago. It's good to see you." They shook hands and Cristobal left the office.

Downstairs, the Rebel gazed over the Mrlssi street a moment and turned right towards a small cafe near the Mrlsst Academy. Entering the cafe, he slid into a booth near the front.

"Well...you heard the conversation. What do you think?"

[Estelle Russard]

Estelle stirred her tea with a spoon, taking a moment to phrase her words correctly as Cristobal sat opposite her.

"How well do you know Thomsdottir?" she queried.

He was not anticipating his question to be answered with a question of her own and his expression showed it - his adjusting of the eyebrows and an unsure smile.

"The reason I ask is that her response was anything but suspect. I could sense some alarm in her voice, but that is to be expected given your news"

"Quite right" Santiago offered briefly as Estelle sipped her tea. She replaced her cup on its saucer. "Of course, it will be her actions that come on the heels of your unusual visit today that will be most telling. You set no date for dinner?"

If Estelle was sounding officious, it was because she was determinedly being so. She couldnt for one instant forget that Santiago sitting across from her made her stomach flip sweaty and her palms turn backwards. Oh lord, she was even thinking all back to front. Business, she must keep everything on point. Why the frell did Othniel put them both together this way...away from the scruitiny of her partners Aurelias and Mili. Why, a girl could get into all sorts of trouble---What? Santiago was speaking. Oh for gods sake, what did she miss?

".....And she will want a public venue to avoid any hint of unauthorized or unsanctioned liasons, which is only to our benefit."

"Quite right" Estelle offered, before realising she'd just mimicked Santiago's earlier remark to the tee. "I mean, the reasoning is sound" she appended.

"Hm"

He smiled that smile at her and she dropped her eyes to avoid the devastation that always followed in its wake.

"So, I will stay on her here while she finishes out her day. You make your way back to where we are staying and setup your dinner arrangements with her. Tonight is better than tomorrow" she added, signalling the server by the tilt of her cup that she required a refil.

'It may be necessary for me to search her office while you keep her occupied this evening. Do you still have your pass card?"

[Santiago Cristobal]

"Of course I do." Santiago agreed. "You never know what you might find on her computer. But...I think it might be better if you searched her home first. I've known Marie for several years. If I were a spy, I'd keep everything either on my personal computer, away from prying office eyes. Or, I'd put it on a computer no one else knew existed."

He paused in his comments and motioned to the waitress to get him a cup of tea and a muffin. "But now that I think about, she might not even put it on a computer."

Estelle looked at him, then her green eyes rather nicely lit up. "A diary."

Cristobal nodded. "It was something we were, not quite taught, but learned from Misha Repin, the man who recruited us to go to analysis. Misha wasn't quite paranoid but he was overly cautious. Always on the lookout for spies. Sad really. He could have gotten Directorate of Intentions if he hadn't spouted off to Cracken over the Forest Moon. Repin thought it was noxious and refused to go."

"But he was right."

Santiago smiled. "Of course he was. That was the problem. When the new boss came in, he chose his own people to lead. Misha wasn't one of them. It's sad really..."

It looked like he was about to say something else when his comm *chirped*. "Hello? Marie." He smiled. "I was about to call you, actually. Are you available tonight? Excellent. When? Splendid. Pick you up? Where? 7764 North University Way. Excellent, I'll see you then." Santiago chatted a few seconds more then cut the connection.

"I remember her home. It's not very large but she has neighbors which tend to enjoy the outdoors. Oh thank you." He stopped again to accept his tea and muffin. "Something on your mind, Estelle? You seem nervous."

[Estelle Russard]

"No, no. No, not nervous"

She shook her head in the negative, which might have been a bit much in addition to her denials, but Cristobal seemed not to notice.

Funny that, as an analyst, Santiago had concluded Estelle to be seeking something in the way of hard data. This was not the case, but she forwent clarifying. If she were a spy. That is to say, as a spy, she would not be foolish enough to keep anything so easily damning as written information that could quickly be traced back to herself. A diary? Perhaps, but even if one clouded such details amongst the inanity of everyday life, it was still a big risk. Estelle had been of the mind to search for clues that were innocent to all but a person looking particularly for a traitor. An out of context holograph picture, an unusual momento or keepsake, some kind of lead. It could be any item really, it could even be something as intangible as a gut-instinct - something the 'geeks at spyschool' (to paraphrase Aurelias) had trained them not to ignore.

"Good suggestions, her home is her haven - if we turn up anything it most likely would be there"

[Santiago Cristobal]

"And everyone should feel safe at home." Cristobal's voice sounded like he was thinking wistfully about something. "We've got several hours before I meet Marie for dinner. Why don't we finish up here, then head back to our hotel. Make sure we have all of our gear."

Estelle was looking out in the street, lost in thought and Santiago good naturely raised two fingers and snapped them in front of Estelle's eyes. He smiled as she shook herself and stared at her.

"Come on. Let's go for a walk." Cristobal grabbed his muffin and paid for their tea, before walking out of the small cafe.

"The architecture here is absolutely amazing." Santiago said what Estelle was thinking as they walked down the duracrete street, which was flecked with green shrubbery. What both noticed was how the green never interfered with the duracrete and the duracrete never interfered with the green. "What they've been able to do with melding the greenstalk forest with their buildings is fascinating. So serene and busy at the same time."

The pair turned down another street, headed towards their hotel. "When you were in school, did you ever get the chance to visit the Academy here? You'd see artwork and techonology there no one else in the galaxy has."

[Estelle Russard]

"I never got the chance. For a large part of my University life if I went anywhere, it was on missions for the Alliance. I had to make to with holovid tours of such places"

There was no regret in Estelle's answer, just simple information. She had never once regretted the choice she'd made to serve the Alliance the way she had. Her priorities were set and it was to defend the autonomy of such places that the rebels waged the war they did.

"If these streets are anything to go by, I believe you when you say it is a chance of a lifetime"

[Santiago Cristobal]

"It is." Cristobal gazed up at the stalks. "One reason I became an analyst was so I could take the occasional vacation to see things like this. Being an operative isn't all tropical locations with girls in bikinis hanging off of you." They both shared a laugh over it. That type of lifestyle was for the HoloNet vids.

They walked up two small steps towards their hotel. Like most other structures on Mrlsst, it was made from a hollowed out greenstalk. The interior though was breathtaking. The hotel designers had carved out furniture from the interior bark and covered them with various cushions and paint to make them look even more exotic. Strings of cool lights curved along the walls, giving the lobby a rather dark and relaxing look. During the night, those lights gave way to larger, brighter lights in alcoves. But Everything had its place in the hotel and nothing was done garishly.

Estelle and Santiago's room was just the same. Both beds were hollowed out from the bark, the same with the table and chairs they would sit upon. The floor was slightly soft from the bark and carpet they walked upon. Their beds were comfortable and the view from the lone, double-doored window which led out to a balcony.

Santiago smiled. "It may not be all girls in bikinis and beaches. But the view is nice. Make sure your gear is together and get a nap. By the time you wake up, we should be ready to go."

[Cavalier]

Thomsdottir went over the message she'd just received. She'd been figured out, her cover was close to being blown. Combine that with Cristobal's sudden arrival, it meant things were worse than she'd ever expected.

The Imperial spy pressed several buttons on her desk, removing the data packets of information she'd stored over the last several months. Schedules, plans, information on Incom prototypes. Some of the names of her operatives on Mrlsst. It was all there. She'd have to drop them to her contact on Mrlsst before she got off planet. If that was the plan. Marie wasn't sure if she would be extracted back to Coruscant, Carida, or some other Imperial held world.

She stopped a moment to brush a white lock from her hair. Am I really being this foolish? she asked herself. It could be Santiago really wanted to catch up. I haven't seen him in a while anyway.

Thomsdottir stuffed half of her information in her bag. Best to hide it in her home to be safe. "Verge." She spoke into her comlink. "I'm headed out for the day. I'll pick up my work again tomorrow."

"Very well Ms. Thomsdottir. We'll talk more about the new fighter plans tomorrow."

Marie slid her bag over her shoulder and quickly exited her office. Three hours until her dinner with Santiago. That would give her time to think...

[Samantha Lessard]

The Mon Calamari Cruiser: Hope For Change Orbiting Mon Calamari

"Dammit!" Rebel Intelligence Sub-Director of Counter Intelligence Samantha Lessard cursed. She, along with her off and on lover, the SpecOps agent, Rawl were standing in front of a doorway in the senior officer section of the Hope For Change. "Misha changed his lock code."

Rawl gave an almost smile. "Are you sure this is a good idea? Breaking into the ex-sub director of analysis' quarters for a second time. After the frist time didn't come up with anything? Some people are going to start wondering about you, Sam."

Lessard turned her brown-haired head towards Rawl and gave him a 'look'. "We don't know where Misha disappeared to. We it's somewhere on Coruscant, but not where. Sure he's probably tracking down a lead on whoever the traitors are but if we can find out, maybe we can help him somehow. Send him some information."

Her finger went over the keypad once more, again getting a negative response. She swore again. "Dammit Misha! Of all the times to be so Force-damned stubborn."

"For all we know." Rawl crossed his arms. "Repin's the traitor."

Lessard had fire in her eyes and she pointed her hydrospanner at him. "Don't say that Rawl! Don't you even fucking think that!"

Rawl sighed. "Okay I'm sorry. I know he means a lot to you. It just doesn't make sense. Why would he change his code?"

Sam shook her head and stood up, her five-foot two frame coming just up to the SpecOps' chin. "I don't know. Misha's always been cautious. Almost overly cautious. He just doesn't always trust a ton of people these days. Or ever I guess.

"Hell, he didn't even bother telling Cristobal he was leaving. Just left it up to Belargic to promote and tell him." She pursed her lips. "He's not acting right, Rawl. I'm worried about him."

The thin man nodded his understanding. He'd only met Repin a few times, mainly while he was with his boss, 'The Black Man'. He'd never tell Sam, but Repin came off like an old tauntaun sometimes. Smart guy, but he made 'The Black Man' look unconcerned about security sometimes. Very weird.

"What do you hope to find in there?"

Sam shrugged and started fiddling with the keypad again. "I don't know. A note. A computer file. Something telling me why he decided to go where he did. A lead on who he suspects is the traitor. Just something to help us find him."

She smacked the pad and cursed again, through clenched lips. "Work dammit!"

Rawl shook his head and put a hand on Lessard's shoulder. "Let me have a try. I may be able to bypass Repin's security code."

Samantha smiled and stepped away. Twenty minutes later, they were in.

[Aurelias Kazaar]

Keff Base on the planet Sullust

Kazaar was still inna pretty frackin' bad mood when he got t'the Rebel's base on Sullust. He'd seen th'googly eyes th'Kid was throwin' at th'mention o'that frackin' analyst, Cristobal. Hell, Othy saw 'em too. Prob'ly why he suggested th'two of 'em go t'Mrlsst together. Frackin' Black Man...what was he hopin' Estelle'd put whatever romantic poodoo was gonna happen on Mrlsst ('course Kazaar knew it'd happen) in 'er frackin' report? Of all th'frackin' cheap things t'do.

'Course, Birdy'd been just as pissed'n worried on th'flight t'Sullust as Kazaar'd been. Wasn't 'cause she was mad 'bout bein' separated from th'Kid. Actually, prob'ly was but k'Vik was so frackin' quiet, he knew she was tossin' 'round that pretty little head o'hers all th'stuff she thought was gonna happened t'the Kid. Hell, she prob'ly was annoyed it wasn't gonna be her gettin' th'just desserts'. Kazaar smirked. Dames. Frackin' goofy.

Th'former bounty hunter was dressed up inna Rebel uniform, or 'least th'closest thing he was gonna let 'imself be dressed in. Sure as hell wasn't gonna wear that goofy lookin' eggshell-shaped helmet. No frackin' way, that Force-damned getup looked frackin' stupid. Not inna Imperial 'oh I wear o'white skullfaced helmet so be scared o'me'. More like o'oh I wear o'frackin' ramp forra helmet. Drive o'speeder offa me.'

'nother smirk. Thank Kad he was o'member o'SpecOps. Even if his boss was o'frackin' bastard.

'Least Othy was nice 'nough t'make him a major, Kazaar nodded to a couple lieutenants who were scurrying 'round th'massive underground cave that hosed th'base. Prob'ly lookin' f'someone t'order 'round 'n do a buncha pushups. Buncha highminded jerks.

Kazaar puffed on one o'his dark cigars'n motioned towards o'big earred Sullustan. "Lieutenant." He just nodded t'th'Sullustan's salute. His voice remained pretty guttural but Kazaar backed off on his normal gruff tone. "Where's General Thomsdottir?"

'Big Ears' didn't speak Basic, but Kazaar got th'gist o'his jabberin'. Up in his office in th'building overlookin' o'nice pool. Must be nice t'be o'suit. He strode towards a speeder which'd take 'im t'Wayneright Thomsdottir's office. Birdy was handlin' th'two kids, Cary'n Paxton. Hope she was havin' more fun than he was.

Ya better not expect me t'kiss ya ass, Tommy. Kazaar puffed away on th'cigar. 'Cause that ain't happenin'.

**************************

General Wayneright Thomsdottir's office was o'pretty frackin' nice place. Larger'n most, had a decent view o'the underground pool, plus a stocked t'the gills liquor cabinent. Sure as hell wasn't somethin' ya saw ev'ry day. Problem was, ole Tommy wasn't th'most affable o'guys. 'Fact, he expected Kazaar t'not only kiss 'is ass, but t'also give it o'good rubdown. 'Least that what he seemed like.

"You are Major White yes?" Tommy's eyes didn't even bother glancin' up from th'datapad he was readin'. Guy's cheeks moved pretty frackin' funny too. Like they were some kinda leech holdin' onto th'guy's face.

"Yes...sir." Kazaar almost forgot t'add th'sir'. Frackin' military.

Thomsdottir motioned him towards o'seat. "You're from General Dan's camp yes?"

Kazaar nodded'n sat down. He'd run into Dan once're twice on missions. Figured th'guy wouldn't mind 'im stealing an ID from 'im. Not that he'd even used 'is real name durin' those missions.

"Well then. What can I do for you. Major."

"Few weeks ago." Kazaar figured he wouldn't be too cute 'bout it. "We ran into a communication from a few Imperial agents." He handed over the partial transmission th'Kid and Cristobal recovered. "You can see the problem."

Tommy's dull eyes started t'show some life. "Do you mean to say to me." Guy's jowells kept movin' like slugs. "You think I'm the 'Thomsdottir' listed here? You must be joking."

Kazaar/White let 'is mouth quirk inna smile/smirk. "Not really...sir. We've noticed how operative on both military intel and Rebel Intel have been disappearing off the grid. General Dan wanted me to speak with you personally."

More life in Thomsdottir's eyes. "I've known General Dan for ten years!" He blustered tryin' t'show how important he was. "He would have contacted me personally if he thought I was the source of the leak."

Inwardly, Kazaar smirked. He hadn't caught Tommy inna lie. But he'd touched o'nerve. For th'lieutenant of th'guy really in charge o'Military Intel, ole' Tommy was o'touchy bastard.

"If you even think." Thomsdottir's eyes were startin' t'actually shine. 'Nother inward smirk. Guy might start doin' 'is frackin' job now. "I would considering betraying the Alliance..."

Kazaar didn't hear th'rest. His mind'd *clicked*. Tommy was o'frackin' politician. Guy was lookin' t'get a better spot in th'Alliance. His spot in military intel was just o'frackin' steppin' stone. Hell, that was why th'guy talked 'bout how he knew Dan.

Time t'ruffle th'guy's feathers even more. "What about your sons. Paxton likes to gamble yes? Maybe he fell in with the wrong crowd. He's in the hold for creds a lot"

"Get the hell out of my office!" Thomsdottir roared, his eyes now furious. "I want you gone Major White or whoever the hell you are! How...how dare you! Get out! Get the hell out!"

Kazaar was smirkin' as he left Tommy's office. He'd rattled 'is chains pretty frackin' well. Good. Guy might start doin' 'is frackin' job. Leak may not've come from ole Wayneright. But he might start gettin' his sons under control. Get them t'start doin' their jobs'n not acting like o'buncha spoiled-ass brats.

He stuck o'cigar in 'is mouth'n went t'find Birdy.

[Estelle Russard]

Estelle lay on the bed immobile, staring at the ceiling, for what felt like atleast an hour. It had been 12 minutes. She forced her eyes shut and almost instantly opened them again.

"I can hear you" Cristobal said absently from where he was seated at the small desk across the room, reviewing a datascreen. Estelle could only see the back of his head and she admired the way his ears looked, so neat and compact. Really? His ears? Oh, she was in big trouble..

"To sleep you have to close your eyes...and your ears" he admonished.

She sat up briskly, "I wasn't...I mean, I had my eyes closed"
She peered forward to see if she was reflected in the data screen. Nope, just a weird co-incidence. She swung her legs off the bed. "There's no way I can relax. I want to get started." Santiago swiveled about in his chair and raised an eyebrow, "Are you always this eager?"

"What?" What did he mean? He didn't think she meant..."What?" she repeated stupidly.

"The mission, eager to get things moving"

"Yes! The mission. Im eager, its a bad habit. How long before you meet Marie?'

Cristobal looked at his watch, unnecessarily. He knew to the minute how much time he had. "A little over two hours. You can help me here if you like"

Estelle took him up on his suggestion and pulled a chair over beside him, it was an armchair and didnt quite reach up to a good height for the desk, but she perservered. Santiago went back to his research and after a few minutes of staring at the code and flickering screen, Estelle rested her chin on her hand and began to doze.

[Santiago Cristobal]

A few minutes later, Cristobal silently stood up, grabbed a blanket, and put it around Estelle's nicely shaped shoulders. He'd let her sleep for a while, before going back to the job at hand.

Santiago's footfalls were barely heard through the soft carpet/bark floor. He reached into his suitcase and pulled out the communication device he used to contact HQ on the progress of his missions and receive updates from them.

The wolves are surrounding the sheep. Continue as ordered.

He let a small smile come to his face. It was times like this he really missed being out in the field and running operations. But being sub-director of Analysis had its own perks. He was always 'in the loop' when it came to information. He'd once joked to Misha he was "living vicariously through the other operatives" but that wasn't always true.

Santiago waited another hour before placing a soft hand on Estelle's face. "Estelle. Wake up. It's time."

[Estelle Russard]

Cristobal crossed the hotel lobby after exiting the elevator at exactly 6pm.

He was dressed smartly in black slacks and a coal-grey shirt, open at the collar and caught more than the lion's share of admiring looks as he strode across the foyer. A sweeping glance, a slight nod to the concierge and Santiago was stepping through the hotel doors and out into the hotel landing. Eight stories up, it was not a commanding view of Mrlsst but it was impressive enough. Mrlsst was a treat to the senses in any form, but he was not here for the vista. Within seconds, a sleek speeder-cab ascended up to the landing from groundlevel and Santiago slid effortlessly into the backseat, the vehicle taking off as Cristobal gave the address.

From where she sat, Estelle could watch him plainly as he made his exit. She read the last of the 'visitors' guide brochure' as a delaying tactic then she, too, crossed the lobby, though much less conspicuously than her rebel counterpart. She was wearing dark slacks and a beige sweater. Her hair was pulled in a loose ponytail, her face devoid of makeup. Where Santiago was dressed to be noticed, Estelle was dressed to be overlooked. Santiago used the VIP exit, Russard took the turbolift down to the ground floor and left the hotel via the street exit.

They left separately, their missions for the evening different but their objective was singular: Find compromising information on Marie Thomsdottir and, if necessary, seize her for the Alliance to question.

[Santiago Cristobal]

The restaurant Marie chose to meet Cristobal at wasn't the most glamorous but it was far from rundown. The owner, a Mrlssi, employed mostly humans and some Zeltrons as waiters and waitresses. There was also the occasional Falleen, all dressed in clothing appropriate for the restaurant: not too lavish, but far from drab.

Marie was waiting for Santiago as he exited the taxi. "Santiago." She gave him a brief hug. "You look very nice to tonight."

Cristobal gave a smile and held the door open for her. "You do too, Marie."

Thomsdottir wore a black, sleeveless dress with two red stripes running down the sides. The dress was loose near the knees and her shoes were more like slippers: flat, made of light material, but still exquisite. Marie still wore the long bracelet on her left forearm, while her right one was bare. Her white hair fell down the sides of her face, but was up in the back. Cristobal simply agreeing that Marie "looked nice" was an understatement.

They were shown to their seats in a booth near the middle of the restaurant. There was an exit about 20 feet away, the sub-director of Analysis noted. It meant Thomsdottir was concerned about the news he'd given her earlier. Which wasn't a bad thing.

"Is Cannondale really in danger?" It was Marie who decided to break the ice.

"We're pretty certain." Cristobal answered, motioning for a Zeltron waitress to bring them two glasses of white wine. "You know how corporate conspiracies go. Someone hears rumors of something else and it starts to gather steam."

Thomsdottir's mouth quirked. "Two sources then?"

A nod. "We confirmed them both. Cannondale hasn't completely taken heed though. But I think he's being a bit more selective with his appointments."

The Chief of Station for Mrlsst's mouth quirked again. "He probably should be."

Santiago scratched his right shoulder and Marie changed the subject. "Is everything else all right? Have you met anyone special?"

Cristobal gave a smile. "I think so..."

[Milivikal k'Vik]

k’Vik attempted to enjoy herself. Paxton said across from her, sweat rolled off his brow. Cary, much to Paxton’s dismay, merely sat with drink in hand a dumb grin on his face. He’d already cashed his very small potatoes out, having lost thirty credits to the pale woman. Paxton, on the other hand, stared at half a month’s salary in front of Milivikal. She looked up from her cards at him. Her blue eyes were cold and pale, and her gaze made Paxton shudder. The left side of her lips curled upward into an arrogant grin.

“Call.” She said, her upper-crust Coruscanti came through in a wave. Paxton put his cards down on the table. A ball of sweat formed on the tip of his nose and retreated toward the table with gravity’s help.

His hand was serviceable, and would beat most poor to mediocre hands. Milivikal’s hand was better. She knew it. Even if she hadn’t been able to peruse his mind casually, he had dozens of tells for different cards. Paxton was a terrible card player. Cary, on the other hand, wasn’t bad. He’d had the good sense to know he was outmatched. He reached his small-ball limit and cashed out.

She laid her hand down. Her 3-of-a-kind smashed his high pair. Paxton let out an anguished whimper and put his head in his hands.

“Paxton.” She said cooly. He looked up from beneath his palms. Milivikal pushed most of the pile back to him. After all, it had been his at one point. Paxton’s mouth fell open. No one ever returned chips. Cary blinked a few times, but grinned.

“Try another game, love. You’re no good at this one.” She added, stood, and started for the bar.

[Aurelias Kazaar]

Kazaar was leaning 'gainst th'bar watchin' Birdy's display 'n took o'drink from his beer. Kinda surprisin' t'see 'er give Paxton th'chips back, but k'Vik wasn't 'xactly ya normal dame. Hell, she wasn't even ya normal FU. She sure as hell wasn't o'Jedi (Kazaar'd seen one're two of 'em) but she wasn't o'Sith either. 'Course she was prob'ly somethin' in between or a frack ovva lot darker.

He smirked an' lit up o'cigar ('least these Thomsdottirs knew it wasn't bad t'be inna place that allowed smokin'). 'Long as she didn't start trying t'kill th'Kid (based on how she acted 'round Estelle, Kazaar doubted she was gonna do that. 'Less she wanted t'sex 'er t'death...his next smirk was o'little dirtier) they'd keep gettin' 'long fine.

Over at th'Thomsdottirs' table, both of 'em were trying t'figure out what the frack'd happen. Paxton'd just gotten 'is clock clean but was able t'recover most o'his creds. Which made no Force-damned sense t'either of 'em. Paxton looked at Cary, whose face was pretty blank, then stood up and followed Milivikal.

"Um...excuse me." Birdy hadn't ordered anythin' yet so Kazaar figured Paxton was gonna take care 'othat. "Th-thanks for what you did." He gave a sheepish smile. "When most people clean me out, they tend to make more than just my credits." Scar under 'is right eyes said it all. "Thanks again. C-can I buy you a drink?"

[Estelle Russard]

Gaining entry into Marie's home had been a simple matter. The use of an Intel-developed reroute circuit card had taken care of the alarm on the patio sliding door, and that in itself had been a basic enough system to override. Russard wondered why Thomsdottir had such flimsy security and took all prudent caution on her entry, feeling that such simplicity was probably a false-safety and there was likely a secondary system.

She flashed her penlight across the dark interior of Marie's livingroom and immediately her suspicions were confirmed -- green motion lasers crisscrossed the entire space. She would have to go back out and find the housing unit and interupt the power source. This was bad for two reasons, one - it would take time and two - it would leave an imprint of unauthorized access which could be traced back to this date and time. However, it would not be found immediately unless one did daily reviews of the readouts and even so, by that time Thomsdottir would either be cleared of suspicion or in Alliance custody.

Estelle set to work moving quickly and methodically, all the while listening in on Cristobal's conversation with Marie via his transmitter. She almost tripped the alarm when Santiago admitted to maybe having found someone special. The statement raised all kinds of questions in her head and was quite a distraction.

With the alarm and motion sensors eventually taken care of, Russard re-entered the Thomsdottir residence and moved quickly to Marie's bedroom. If anything secret was being hidden, it would be in there..

[Santiago Cristobal]

"Really?" Marie's white eyebrow cocked upwards gracefully. "Who is she?"

"A woman I've worked with recently." Santiago gave a smile, before taking a sip from his glass of wine. "She works for a 'rival' company, I think, but she a good worker. Very smart. I'd love work with her even more."

Thomsdottir's reply was only a nod, as two salad plates were put in front of them. "Do you think you will?"

Cristobal shrugged. "She's busy right now doing something, I'm not quite sure. She's up for a transfer so she may be house hunting. If given the opportunity, I'd love to."

[Cavalier]

Marie did her best not to take in a breath at the 'house hunting' comment. If Cristobal were here, did it mean he brought someone with him? Was she currently in her own home?

"Santiago. Why'd you come here?" The Station Chief of Mrlsst decided to take the direct approach.

Cristobal's look was serious. "We're doing an investigation into some toxic chemicals in parts of the company. Some of the power generators have been failing. When we looked at a list of makers, your name came up. I wanted to make sure you had nothing to do with it."

Oh krasst.

She had been burned. Someone, probably that idiot Walt Harrison, had either been caught or worse and spilled the beans. That meant Cristobal...

Bloody hell. Marie tried to shuffle her thoughts away. "I promise you. I know nothing about it Santiago."

The Sub-Director of Cryptography and Analysis grimaced. "I know. I know. You're too careful to get caught up in things like that. But I had to come and make sure."

Marie inwardly sighed and scratched her leg where the information from her office computer she'd taped to it was. She was safe.

[Milivikal k'Vik]

“Thank you, love, but you already have.” She held up a stack of chips between her index finger and her thumb. Milivikal had been generous, but not a philanthropist. Paxton looked bewildered. He turned away. His hands twitched, and he whirled to face her. He leveled a finger millimeters from her face.

“You cheated, didn’t you!” He yelled angrily. Milivikal had miscalculated. His ego couldn’t take this much bruising in such a short time span. She wanted to compare notes with Kazaar, not spend more time with this simpleton.

“Listen closely, Paxton. Put the finger down or it shall not be the only thing I break.” Her tone had gone from warm and friendly to icy. She projected menace, but there wasn’t enough space in his brain for fear of her. He was hopped up on adrenaline and stupid self-righteousness. To him, she was a cheat, plain and simple. Paxton grabbed for her blouse, but she had turned on the bar stool. His hand missed. She kicked him in the shins, and shoved an elbow into his gut when his hands dropped. She was on her feet now, and placed one leg behind his. She pushed up and away. Paxton sprawled onto the floor.

“Next time I will dig my elbow in lower.” She warned. Paxton didn’t say anything. He wheezed loudly on the floor. Kazaar sauntered over.

“Can I buy ya a drink?” He asked.

“No.” She replied.

“Dames.” He said, and shrugged. She harummphed, and walked away, toward the door. She had left a chip on the bar, more than enough to pay for the beer in his hand. How nice o’her, he thought, and shook his head. Kazaar downed the rest of the beer and headed after her. He caught up as she had finished cashing out the chips. She was now 100 credits richer.

“Can I still get ya a drink?” He asked.

“Perhaps later.” She said. They walked out.

“Anything?” She asked Aurelias.

“Naw, pops is a damn pencil pushin’ politician.” He spat the last word out. “What ‘bout Huey and Dooey?”

“Paxton is a hot-headed moron and Carey is along for the fireworks.” Milivkal explained.

“So nothin’.” Kazaar reasoned.

“Nothing.” Mili agreed.