[h3][right]Jast - The Trentara Café[/right][/h3][hr]

The Trentara was a stratospheric, open-air café perched on a terrace high above the surface of Coruscant. Diners enjoyed the best of renowned Corellian chef Mara Sahlo’s expertly prepared cuisine and a well-appointed view of the city-world, overlooking some of the most famous skyrakers in the galaxy. That view included the domed Senate, the seat of the Republic, of democracy in the galaxy itself.  Mara Sahlo was an excellent chef, but it was that view that made a plate at the Trentana so expensive. 
 
That view also gave its occupants a similarly well-appointed view of a hab building, about a kilometer off, as one of its windows exploded outward in a burst of fire and smoke. A seemingly small, stark white figure plummeted through the sky into the sprawl below. Few noticed the flash, or the falling figure, but the sound, an acrid crack that cut through air, attracted attention. There was a collection of gasps and stifled screams from the array of diners on the Trentara, and all eyes were fixed on the distant building, the glowing blaze in one of its windows. 

Jacen Jast, sitting at one of the outermost tables on the terrace, just finished with dinner, was well ahead of the crowd, a palm sized communicator to his ear as he watched the scene unfold. It was too distant to make out anything in particular, but something was going on at what he believed to be a military installation of some kind. Errol Barr, senior director of Coronet Analytica, disagreed.

“With all due respect, Jacen,” Barr intoned, most definitely without any due respect, “we’re still waiting on confirmation that there is a situation at all.” [i]Waiting on confirmation.[/i] Jast had watched it happen before his eyes not ten seconds before dialing. If Barr was half as good at his job as he was at sounding like he had the vaguest sense of being in the loop, they'd all be working for him. 

“With all due respect,” Jacen spat back, “I just witnessed a fucking situation first-hand, a munitions explosion at a military hab tower.” 

“Jacen!” Carlotte scolded, hands over their daughter’s ears. Lyra turned to look up at her mother.

“Fuckin‘ sijuashun,” the girl repeated, excited at the commotion. Jacen mouthed an apology at Carlotte. She rolled her eyes and explained to Lyra in sweet, patient tones that some words are not to be used by respectable little ladies. Meanwhile, Barr continued his stonewalling. 

“We will have a team on this as soon—” he was saying, but Jacen terminated the call and made another. Blirrun Cligh, a mid-level analyst on Jacen’s staff, picked up nearly immediately. Always by the comm, that one, which Jacen liked. 

“Jast?” Blirrun asked.

“Yeah, Cligh, there’s been an explosion near the Senate square. I think it’s a military residential complex or similar,” Jacen said. “I’ve got eyes on the scene right now.” 

“There’s a couple of those in the area,” Blirrun said, seemingly referencing a map of the area by the tone of his voice. “I don’t think we have anything on that. I don’t even think there’s anything in the news yet.”

“Of course not. It just happened. I’m coming into the office,” Jacen said, eyes flicking over to Carlotte. Her hands were up and her expression was twisted up in mock outrage. Maybe not mock outrage. It could be actual outrage. “Put out the word, I want the team in their seats before I get there. So to speak,” he added, knowing Blirrun often didn’t do well with hyperbole. He wondered if it was a cultural thing.

“Are you kidding me?” Carlotte asked as Jacen pocketed the comm and stood. 

“What?” he said with a laugh, but she made it clear she wasn’t laughing. 

“What do you mean, ‘what?’” she chastised him. “There’s a terrorist attack right there,” she said, jabbing an accusatory finger at the smoldering habit unit across the open air, “and you’re leaving your family.” 

“Well, that’s the job,” he said, leaning in to plant a kiss on Lyra’s forehead. The girl giggled, not particularly fussed over the explosion or the commotion it had made on the Trentana’s terrace.  “It’ll probably be a late night,” Jast said. “I’ll let you know what happens.” 

“Fine, I-love-you-goodbye,” she said, rolling the words into one, and waved him off with an annoyed flick of the wrist. All the same there was a smile in her eye. Also on her face, but when Carlotte smiled she smiled from the eyes. 

“I love you too,” he answered, and was off, pushing through the gawping crowd and making his way for the Trentana’s turbolift.