Mon Jan 12 02:47:44 1998: You step between the pair of bouncers and enter Keepon Casino. Level 4 -Keepon Casino- For many beings, even tall ones, the only reminder this vast room gives of having a ceiling is the three large chandeliers which decend from the lofty roof to illuminate a virtual nebula of color and riches below. Crystal-distorted light casts a hazy glow over the casino, the rich midnight blue and gold trims of the decor giving the establishment the clandestine air of forbidden evenings and half-dreams. A clear aisle from the door sweeps a deep blue path to the bar against the far wall; islands of sabacc tables to the left of the entrance, a smooth near-reflecting black dancefloor to the right, and a wide raised dais in the far right corner which bears tables for dining. Odd movement against the wall behind the draws patrons' attentions, for the entire wall, up to two meters, is one large mirror; but not quite, as odd ghost images waft across its surface which have no real origin in the room. The bar, presiding from the back, is long and of a deep real wood, graceful stools before, and one of the largest collections of drinks behind, rising like steppes behind three hard-working human bartenders. The dance of the Sabacc cards, the disturbing and distracting images on the mirror Wall, the elegantly dressed patrons and the dancers on an ebony field give the Keepon Casino a near mythical, ephemeral quality. -=-=-=-=-=-=<>=-=-=-=-=-=- => Donivan => Han_Solo => Slot Machine => Jedi Duel Machine -=-=-=-=-=<>=-=-=-=-=- Corridor leads to Level 4 -Northern Concourse-. Chantinelle slowly enters the casino, she yawns loud and covers blushing her wide open mouth with her hand, looking curiously around whether her is some action to stay awake. Han_Solo's Desc: This tall, rangy man moves with the loose and confident motions of a fighter, someone accustomed to getting into tight situations... and getting quickly right back out of them. His brown hair is cut pragmatically short, but is thick enough to hold a hint of a wave, framing a set of ruggedly handsome features that have finally lost the last traces of youthfulness and are solidly into weathered maturity. A long scar crooks across his chin, adding another touch of ruggedness to his face. Sharp-gazed hazel ey es, prone to shift tint depending on his clothing, miss very little that crosses their line of sight, and he typically speaks in a lazy almost-drawl. He is clad in a form-hugging blue jacket over a white shirt tucked into darker blue pants, which are in turn tucked into a pair of scuffed but serviceable black boots. Down each side of his pant legs runs a single red stripe. Around his waist he's wearing a slightly askew utility belt; secured to both it and his right thigh is a blaster holster, currently empty. He appears to have no other weapons on him. -=-=-=-=-=-=<>=-=-=-=-=-=- => DL-44 Heavy Blaster Pistol Donivan's desc: Donivan stands 6'3 and around 200lb. He has long brown hair, that is tied back in a neat ponytail and reaches well beyond his shoulders. His eyes, are of a bright, cold, soul peircing blue, and would pass chills up the back of the most unemptional of beings. His face is a handsome one. It is cleanly shaven, and has no scars or any other inperfections. His right eyebrow has a small streak of bright red hairs in it, close to the center of his face, and looks extremely fake, but if enspected more clo sely, one would see that it isn't. His body is clad in a thin black suit of armor. Underneeth which is a matching black body suit. His hands are covered by black leather gloves, with metal accents in various places, as well as fingertips and knuckles. Making them look more like sof t gauntlets rather than gloves. He is wearing dark black, shiny, leather, military stile boots, that have metal accents like his gloves and make small, metalic taps when he walks on any hard surface. Slung over his shoulders is an ankle-length wide black, hooded cloak. It could easely conceal the man's entire form if worn differently. The large black hood hangs loosely on his back, revealing his head and face, and letting his long hair hang loosely. Around his waist hangs a wide belt, on both sides of which hang matching sheeths, each containing matching, long, and thin bladed swords with highly decorative and gold accented handles. Also on the side of the belt and a bit out of the way, hangs a black metal face mask that also appears to be part of the armor. (like Sub-Zero's face guard, without the part that covers the head. -=-=-=-=-=-=<>=-=-=-=-=-=- => Light Armor => Corellian Rapier => Burrito of Death and Sexual Prowess => Corellian Rapier -=-=-=-=-=-=<>=-=-=-=-=-=- => Don's Sabacc Deck => HFK Inc. Com-Padd(#7740L) Donivan drops Don's Sabacc Deck. Off at one of the sabacc tables, a pair of men appear to be faced off in a game. One of them, a lean dark-haired fellow in blue, commences shuffling the deck, dealing out cards to himself and the larger man sitting across from him. Hazel eyes guilelessly bland, Solo inquires of his opponent, "Real good at this, are yah?" Han_Solo Starts up a game of Sabacc. Type 'play' to play in this game. Chantinelle spots the two men in the cantina and slowly walks over to them, nodding slightly in a greet , as see looks curiously on the table. Chanti softly speaks, "Greetings Sirs!" Donivan shrugs across the table and stares blankly, answering with a hint of sarcasm and motioning toward the credits, "Nah, I'm just a begginer, and yourself?" Donivan joins in the Sabacc game. "Oh, I dabble now and then," remarks Solo mildly. At the hail from the approaching female, he glances up, tossing off a casual lopsided smile, all amiable innocence as the cards are dealt out, flicked deftly from his fingers. Han_Solo joins in the Sabacc game. Han_Solo begins the sabacc game. Chantinelle stands beside the sabacc table, showing no effort to peek in somebody's cards but carefully watchs the game as the two men begin the game, she smirks, after a quick glance on her wrist clock, "I didn't know that the casino is even open at this time. So may I ask for what you are playing, Sirs?" Donivan just looked at me. Donivan looks up at the young woman with a smile after looking at his hand, taking a small pause to examine the new arrival up close. He offers a deep nod in greeting, "And goodevening to you madam, we are playing Sabacc, the game of games. The mirror's image acquires a faint reddish tinge, which fades after a few minutes. "Awww, playin' just to see what happens, mostly, sweetheart," drawls the man in the blue jacket, lazily. He takes up his four cards, and with a sort of laid-back detachment, casts a hazel regard over his hand. To his opponent, he inquires, "What's your pl easure on rules?" Chantinelle ooohs and cheers happily, "Sabak!" she slightly mispronounce the name and continues, "Wow, I have often heard about this, but never show real game. " she smiles friendly and sits down on your table , "You do not mind, if I may watch your game? " She flashes a blink on Han, hearing his "sweetheart". "Be my guest," says the dark-haired man in blue and white, flashing another lopsided smile to the lady. He slouches back slightly in his chair, and then returns his gaze to his opponent, brows slightly lifted over apparently utterly guileless hazel eyes. Donivan smiles back at the man in blue with an empty smile, and replys with a little bit of sarcasm, but answering the mans questions and filling in the young woman, "Standard house rules, ya know, you get your cards, discard, we raise the stakes a bit, y ou call... I win, simple." Chantinelle nods to the man in black, listening carefully to his explanations, "Hmm, doesn't sound too difficult, or is it?" she blushes suddenly reminding herself for her good manners and extends her hand to the black armored man, "I am Chantinelle Thist leborn, but everybody just calls me Chanti." she friendly says. The Corellian in blue grins broadly at his opponent. "Must be a new variation," he glibly replies. "Can't say I'm familiar with that last bit. I dealt, you want your discards?" To the woman who's come to watch, he adds, "Vokrim. Tance Vokrim." Donivan nods, taking her hand in his and kissing it softly, "John..." he answers but catches himself before he continues any further, "I'm John, a pleasure to meet you Chantinelle Thistleborn." After the pleasentries he continues with his hand, keeping hi s attention at the two others at the table and on his hand. Also he cant help but wonder where he saw this man before. The sabacc-side wall seems to be reflecting the room in a horizontally flipped image. Donivan whews in his mind and nods to the _other_ corellian, "Sure, gimmie 2" he answers dryly after dropping two cards on the table. ;) Chantinelle turns her attention to the other man on the table and nods to him, too, "It's a pleasure to meet you two." she says and watchs again the game, putting her elbows on the table and resting her chin on her hands. Chanti starts after a short time to hum quietly a long love song from Coruscant as she watchs you two, throwing from time to time a glance at ther wrist pad. 'Vokrim' inclines his slightly disheveled dark head, tossing out a couple of discards to his opponent, and then attending to his own. Lujane steps into the entry way from the northern concourse. Lujane has arrived. Donivan slides the cards up into his hand and squints his eyes, focusing on the face of his apponent, giving him a cold stare and trying to almost read his mind by his face. Lujane's desc: Before you is a woman of elegance and grace. She stands at an above average height for most human females. Her olive skin has a weathered look to it, making her seem to be of an older age but yet still doesn't take away from her beauty. Her very l ong, flowing dark black hair is marked with the occasional streak of white and grey. Her bangs are tucked behind a small and highly decorated left ear. Set above her deep dark brown eyes are long thick eyelashes. Looking up from those you see thin and man icured eyebrows. Set between her etched and reagl cheekbones is a large but becomming nose. Her lips are a wet, deep crimson. She is dressed in a long, flowing black gown. The low-cut neck and back show the tone and figure she posses that usually don't accompany a woman that seems to be her age. Her biceps and triceps are well exposed because of the sleeveless gown, but from the elbow down long, black lace gloves are worn. At her waiste is a belt that accentuates her hourglass figure even more so. The silver metal buckle is of a small cressent moon. On her feet are flat, black shoes with exposed tiped toes. -=-=-=-=-=-=<>=-=-=-=-=-=- => Duffle Bag The bright lights shimmer off the cascading waterfall close to the entrance. Lujane stands there for a moment adoring the beauty of the liquid sculpture than makes her way to the nearby bar. She settles herself in and scans the casino, taking in the view of the occasional patron here and there. Chantinelle hmms and raises for a sec her head from her hands, throwing a quick glance at the incoming woman before she turns all her attention back to the sabacc game before her. Han_Solo ends the sabacc game, resetting everything. Donivan Starts up a game of Sabacc. Type 'play' to play in this game. Han_Solo joins in the Sabacc game. Donivan joins in the Sabacc game. Donivan begins the sabacc game. Han_Solo's reflection on the wall is shadowed by a ghostly Twi'lek. Donivan finishes discarding and drawing, and locks his hand in. Chantinelle raises slightly her hand to show a waitress to arrive, like somebody who is used to command other persons around, she silently orders a drink for herself and asks on the table, "May I order some liquids for you, gentlemen?" Lujane takes a seat at the bar. As he fetches his own discards out of the pile, 'Vokrim' glances up at Chantinelle and smiles lazily. "Ain't finished my brandy yet, but thanks, doll." Back to the deck, then, as one discard goes out and then the second. Donivan points to the tall glass of sparkly brown liquid sitting next to him and shakes his head at the young woman, "No thank you ma'am, already have a drink." Chantinelle raises an eyebrow for a sec, as the man calls her a doll, she smirks and ignores the insult and whispers to the waitress to bring her own drink. A tidy looking Chadra Fan makes his short way over to the woman at the bar and chitters something in her direction. She turns to face him and nods, saying something back. He scurries off and prepares his customer a translucent red drink, and places it in front of the person at the bar with a large satisfied smile. She nods and takes it in her left hand, sips at it as she reaches for some credits and places them in the open palm in front of her. Han_Solo finishes discarding and drawing, and locks his hand in. The hazel of eyes of the one who's called himself Tance Vokrim lift to the one who's called himself John, and he says benignly, "This is the part where we raise the stakes?" Donivan looks at the other man and says, "your call, you wana up it?" Chantinelle thanks with a nod the waitress as she arrives again and places her clear transparent liquid on the sabac table right before she places her elbows, "Oh, and please put send the bill to the imperial attache." she says to the waitress who waits f or the payment, and gives her card to the waitress. 'Vokrim', if he's noticed that he's offended at least one lady in his presence tonight, gives no sign of it; he slouches back with his hand folded back towards him in one hand, his mug in the other, as he lifts it up for a slug of whatever it is he's drin king. To John, he gives another broad, feral smile. "Seein' as how we didn't actually _set_ any stakes, looks like we can't do anything _but_ up 'em." Han_Solo just looked at me. Lujane just looked at me. In the mirror wall, a ghostly rancor plows -through- one of the sabacc tables, then blips out. Donivan grinz a wide grin, and moves half of his winnings from the night in the middle of the table, "Lets make this clean and simple shall we?" 'Vokrim' catches the word 'Imperial' in Chantinelle's instructions to the waitress, but his gaze remains firmly pointed at his opponent. Dark eyebrows rising, the Corellian in blue drawls, "All that? Gosh." He feigns a look of worry, and leans over to nud ge most of the winnings back at their... current owner, drawling, "Us poor hardworkin' pilots only got so much we can blow, pal. Let's call it 750." Chantinelle sips lazily on her drink, she glances over the edge of the glass and scans the casino room, letting her glance rest for a few minutes on the beautiful woman on the bar, she sighs and blinks, stoping her thoughts and brings back her attention t o the game before her. Chanti slightly coughs and apologizes for it,"Sorry, I am just not used to this weather on Caspar down! I thought always its a sunny planet!" Donivan also overhears the 'imperail part' and then the 'sunny' part, he mumbles, "Yeah I know of imperial sunny planets, there is Kessel for one." He looks back at his cards then at the stakes, "Sure I'll go for that, whatcha got?" Han_Solo shows his hand to everybody: Idiot 2_of_Coins Jedi-Master 7_of_Sabers Score: -4 Donivan calls, and everybody's score is shown. Scores: Han_Solo = -4 Donivan = 20 Donivan shows his hand to everybody: Mistress_of_Sabers Ace_of_Flasks 6_of_Sabers 9_of_Coins Score: 20 "Darn," drawls 'Tance Vokrim'. "There goes my paycheck for the week." Donivan's reflection on the wall is shadowed by a ghostly Wookiee. Chantinelle hmms and glares at the man in black, trying to figure out whether he joked or is just so stupid, "Kessel? Why Kessel? I hope we soon get rid with this asteroid! It's terrible there! Even not worth for these rebels!" she says in her firm patrio tic voice. Lujane twitches slightly at the name of the Imperial system. She turns to find the source of the word, and sees a familiar face. She smiles to herself and watches him play his game in silence. Donivan smiles accoross the table at the man, with an evil smile, thinks for a second, and turns back at the man, "Tell ya what pall... I'm not in the habit of taking poor people's money, so you can keep yer cash, if..." In the process of dipping a hand into a jacket pocket, 'Tance Vokrim' pauses, eyes his now triumphant opponent; if there's much embarrassment there, Vokrim isn't showing it. But he does raises his eyebrows again. "If...?" Donivan grinz a wide grin, perhaps the only real showing of emption all evening, " well your a pilot, and well I need a ride, so how about you give me a ride to Pride-1 and we'll just say you owe me." 'Vokrim' pretends to look affronted. "Heeeeeey," he protests, "we're talkin' my livelihood here, pal! Howsabout I give you a ride to Pride 1, and we say I _don't_ owe you?" Another grin crosses his face, but this one's a narrow one, only slightly up-turni ng the right corner of his mouth. Chantinelle follows silent the discussion on her table, she slightly smirks hearing Pride-1 mentioned but doesn't interrupts the man and continues to sip on her drink. Donivan raises an eyebrow and continues to smile, "well, since a ride to Pride, costs around 150 cred on FLS, and since you did loose just a bit more here tonight, you can give me that ride, I'll just add you to the *big* book of people who owe me *small* favors, and leave it at that, eh?" The movement of patrons in the casino is deplicted in the large mirror as trailing faint auras of color. Lujane reaches into a small handpurse and pulls out a long, thing cylindrical shapped object. She lights the tip with an electrical pulse she also removes from the bag. Taking a long draw from it, she leans back, and slowly exhales a thick veil of smoke. Than she returns the pulse to it's home in it's bag. Donivan looks back at the woman that made the statement of Kessel, "Well your courts had no problems with sending my brother there, no problem at all, infact, they thought it was too leanient of them." Donivan smirks, "For running spice through a system on the Imperial border, yeah, a real criminal alright." 'Vokrim' smirks, completing his hand's brief dive into his pocket. He pulls out a few rather large-demoninated credit notes, plunks them down on the table, and drawls as he gets to his feet, "Oh, 500 of that is to get you there _fast_, and the other 100 i s to haul ego. Only enough room for one ego on my ship, pal, and that's mine." Credits flicked down onto the table, he takes up his brandy mug, and finishes, "'Sides, I don't stand in line with anybody." Han_Solo gives Donivan some Galactic Standard Credits. Chantinelle picks up a card from the sabaac game and glances curiously on it. She oohs and blushes hearing "John", she tries to force an apologizing expression on her face and smiles to him, "I am sorry to hear this, Sir, but i am sure when an imperial co urt thinks he is guilty to go there..... then he is! Oh he was a smuggler! But you just can't be a smuggler! Thats a crime! You must follow some laws and order, or we would have chaos in the galaxy!" she says totally believing what she said. 'Vokrim' swigs down the rest of his brandy, leans over to Chantinelle -- not closely enough to intrude on her personal space, but closely enough to let her hear his low rumble of a murmur, his voice turned wry, "Chaos is the spice o' life, darlin'. You sh ould try some." With that, he saunters off, leaving his mug at the bar, and then vanishing off to claim his blaster from the bouncers. Then, at last, to vanish out into the rest of the station. Han_Solo makes his way out of the Casino. Han_Solo has left. Chantinelle oohs and blushes, she looks after the leaving man, "Oh by th force! Now who was this rude man?" she sighs and looks deeply into her glass, thinking about her life and chaos. Donivan looks at the woman with a cold gaze in annswer to her comment, "Its a job sister, some of us run spice, others hunt down innocent men who couldn't make a ship payment, and others invade Sullust, its a job like all others!" Chantinelle looks at "John" not believing what he just said! " But spice?? Spice is a damned drug! Have you ever thought about the kids who take the spice and die by this evil stuff? no I will never understand these smugglers who just want to earn easy mo ney with the death of innocent kids!" Donivan picks up the money from the table, a smile returning to his face, "I myself, make cash the easy way, and that guys face was as easy to read as yesterdays IGN post." Lujane takes another draw off of her cigara and than ashes the end off. She reaches behind her with her right gloved hand for her drink, and sips at it with a delighted look. Placing the glass back down she moves the cigara holder to her lips once again, and once again she becomes veiled in a cloud of thick smoke. According to the mirror wall, Lujane is suddenly dressed in last season's fashion. Donivan picks up the deck of cards appropriating it into a small case, then into his pocket. He then picks his black gloves from the table, and slites them on to his hands. Finaly he picks up his long cloak/cape garment and puts it on, attaching it to the shoulder plates of his armor. Chantinelle hmmpfts angrily after the leaving man, "Well think for one time about all the victims.... Then you will understand why the Empire wants to ban all these smugglers on Kessel! The death would be just too good for them!" she places her hands, clo sed to fist on her hip. Donivan unbinds his long brown hair, and lets it fall around his head in long, natural waves, his tone of voice suddenly changing, and not for the kinder "You ever been to Kessel that you speak such oppinions?". Chantinelle sighs and sits down on the tabel, not dare to look at the man, she only says softly, "Yes I have been there, have you too?" According to the mirror wall, Lujane is suddenly dressed in last season's fashion. Donivan smirks, "Then you have obviously seen the disgruntled mine equipment near the prison compound, that mine equipment, used to work, where my brother now lives, sleeps, works, and will die. A giant metal machene, replaced buy a 30 year old smuggler. That sound fair to you lady?" Lujane has disconnected. Chantinelle shrugs, "I didn't the laws!" she tries to apologize herself " But I think your brother knew them as he smuggled the drugs, don't you? " Donivan nods, "Yes he also knew, that he had to feed an aging mother, and a growing brother, so he didn't realy have a choise. I was there when Imperial forces 'liberated' Sullust. Tell me, what is the pubishment for murder of civilians?" A flight of bats swoops through the mirror's rendition of the room. Chantinelle hmms and frowns thinking, she then softly says, without any anger or emotion, "If you kill one, you are a murder; if you kill millions you are a hero? Isn't this the way Luke Skywalker became a hero of the Rebellion after blowing up the Death Star and killing billions of humans? Or this _CAPTAIN Han Solo_ "*she chuckles* "He is a hero but sells deadly drugs? Oh my god, these rebels are so naive!" Donivan shakes his head calmly, "No, its the way Grand Moff Tarkin became a hero, by blowing up Alderaan, and after that dreaded device was destroyed the empire built another, what was that ones target? Sluis Van? Mon Calamari?or maybe Corellia her self?" Chantinelle hmms and siighs, she deeply looks again into her glass and takes a sip, winning time to think about her answer... but after a few seconds she gives up and looks back at the black armored man, "I do not know..." she softly says "I .... I am , n aw its just the way you grow up I think! You are, where you are from; once an imp , then you stay always an imp." The mirror wall behind the sabacc tables reflects the room, then slyly adds about a half dozen black silhouettes of stormtroopers. Donivan says, "could be, but I tend to think of it more of a matter ofwhere you _grow_ not where you _grow up_, I grew up on Corellia, you don't see me shooting at every Imperial I see, I have no love for the New Republic, the burocrats run the show eithe r way, and everyone else pays the price when they don't get along.." Chantinelle hmms and looks curiously over your persons, trying to figure out what kind of being you are, she says then, "Hmmm then you are one of the few lucky ones who are free. Keep in mind not everybody may create its own fate." A line of Twi'lek chorus girls is reflected in the wall, running through the room. Donivan says, "Everyone creates their own fate, no one is anyone else's subject, unless they allow themselfs to be subjegated, unless they accept the orders of others, unless they allow others to think for them, to make dessisions for them. No one is anyo ne's slave, and no one deserves to control the right of any other." Chantinelle haaas, "As you say it, it sounds so easy! But you do not know the Empire and its system." she sighs and looks down on her suit, staring at the black coiled snake on her rank patch. She turns her glance back on the man, "Did your bother survive d Kessel?" she suddenly changes the topic. Donivan says, "I don't know, they don't allow contact with prisoners there, he is there, alone for the rest of his life, and if you dislike the Empire, then gain citizenship in a government worth your time, like say Caspar for example." Chantinelle laughs out suddenly, "Caspar? Oh my! I think you must be new here else you would know my face! A few months ago the Casparians wanted to kill me incold blood, and this after they insulted my honor!" Donivan thinks, "Thats funny, last week the empire tried to do the same to me." he nods and says, "And how did they do that if I may ask?" Chantinelle raises an eyebrow and looks at you again, trying to remember whether you are on any "wanted" list, but she shrugs and answers slowly your question, "Well how? hmm, I think just just wanted to put their blasterson my brain and pull the trigger. " The movement of patrons in the casino is deplicted in the large mirror as trailing faint auras of color. Donivan says, "any reason for why they might want to do that?" Chantinelle hmmpfts, "Cuz they offended me by saying I placed a bomb on poor Dunwell's tomb!" Chantinelle continues while she shakes her head unbelieving "What they think I am? Some kind of monster? I eat little babies and kill men for the joy of it?" Donivan shrugs plainly, "Who's Dunwell?" Chantinelle sighs and looks sadly at you, "Some fine Casparien loved by everyone and espically by his poor wife who gave birth to twins. His dead was really a loss for the galaxy." On the mirror wall, Chantinelle's reflection morphs into an unrecognizable Wookiee for a while. Chantinelle glares into the mirror, seeing how her face is changed. Chantinelle sighs sadly, "The best ones go always as first." thinking about many other who died without any reason. Donivan shrugs once emotionlesly, "If any man dies before his time it is his fault, and no one else's. And if he leaves a wife and children who are not taken care of, then he does not deserve to be remembered as anything but a fool." Chantinelle oohs and stares at you, slightly shocked how you think about this... she remains quiet for a moment, thinking about it before she opens her lips to responce but she close it again and only sighs. Donivan stops another server girl, picking up a random drink from her tray and takes a long drink from the glass. Various reflections of beings in the room are suddenly outlined in multicolored sparks on the Wall. Chantinelle sighs and looks up at you again, "So why the imps are after you? What have you done? I hope I do not have to arrest you!" *she smirks* "I am just not in the mood to." Donivan says, "what makes you think that they are after me?" and he smirks, "What makes you think you could arrest me anyway?"" Chantinelle laughs out, getting back her usual good mood, "Oh my! You told yourself some imps tried to kill you. Well why should they else? " Donivan thought it, didn't say it ;) Chantinelle Yiiiikes and forget all what I said!! I am so dumb :( *blushes* Chantinelle hmms and looks friendly at you, "Well tell me your name and your brother's one and I could try to find some informations about him. Donivan quirks an eyebrow, "Thanx, but I'm out of the habit of giving my name to anyone in the service of the Empire unless I owe them a favor. " Chantinelle oohs and looks hurt at you, "You do not trust me! Why not? Have I done anything to offend you, or is it just the patch I am wearing?" she sighs and shrugs, "Well your loss then." Donivan says, "my brother is a man from Cornet City, he can handle himself, I am more than sure of it. And yes, yes it is the patch, more than anything else." The mirror wall behind the sabacc tables reflects the room, then slyly adds about a half dozen black silhouettes of stormtroopers. Chantinelle hmms, "I wish for him that he will see the Corel again, its a beautiful sun... But whats wrong with my patch? Now tell me, what are _YOU_ thinking about me?" Donivan sighs and shakes his head, "he receaved a life sentence, and I think of you same as I think of anyone in the service of the empire, misguided in their ways." Chantinelle oohs astonished, "A Life sentence? When was this?...." she stops for a moment, "Why am I misguided, only cuz I try to make a better galaxy with less crimes and death?" Donivan sighs, "I've been over this before, the burocrats fight for power, and everyone else pays the price, and anyone who helps them, is in my oppinion misguided." Chantinelle baaahs and curses , "I am none of these damned bureaucrats! I do have to follow the same laws and rules as everybody else... Naw it's even worse for me, cuz everybody sees the patch and hates me for it. Althought they do not know me personally." Donivan says, "It doesn't matter what side they work for, Republic, Empire, doesn't matter, they fight, people die, no one remembers who is right any more all they remember is war, death, destruction. Thats all they know, and its all they exoect." Chantinelle smiles, "Well then try to change it! Do not only complain change it really! I fo rmy person try it really! I am here to clear a few misunderstandings betwenn the CDU and the Empire. You see I am no soldier but a dilpomat. I do not even have a weapon." she smirks. The mirror's image acquires a faint reddish tinge, which fades after a few minutes. Donivan nods and smiles, binding his hair back into a pony tail "And yes, you are correct, I don't know you personally, but perhaps with time that will change, but for now I must be on my way. And no you don't have a weapon, but you certenly have a place for it. Good day madam, untill we meet again Chantinelle Thistleborn." He bows his head once more. Chantinelle laughs out loud, "Ever been in the cantina on Tatooine as woman without any holster? No? " *she grins* "then you wont understand why a few imps just wear empty holsters. But its okay, Have a nice day, Mr. John. But please just call me Chanti, even the rebels do this." Donivan smiles, "So be it, I trust you will be staying in the system for a while?" Chantinelle siighs, "As long as the CDU president is able to avoid my presence! I am not very welcome here, but what I do not understand what the CDU wants more, peace with me or shall I call the ISDs to bomb Caspar back to stone age? It's weird!" Donivan smirks again, "The ISD's will not survive the defences of this platform, and if they miraculously do, then every citizen with a ship will stand to deffend it." Chantinelle siighs and nods, "It would be a blood bath, on both sides.. So we better hope it won't end so." On the mirror wall, Chantinelle's reflection morphs into an unrecognizable Twi'lek for a while. Donivan says, "and it IS like I said, all everyone knows is war, bombing Caspar, calling ISDs, this and that, all becouse of ideologies, one beurocrat is better than another, yeah, whatever, I realy have to be going, good night madam." Donivan heads for the door, stoping by the weapon scaners to pick up his belt with the twin swords attached to it, and heads out. *** end of log *** IBM AIX Version 4 auf RISC System/6000 43P-240 >> Dies ist Rechner aixterm1 mit AIX 4.2.1<< logi