He kept a slight distance between himself and his charge, watching her shuffle alongside her brother through the crowd of the city's streets. He pulled a tiny device from his pocket, no larger than if he held the broken tip of a pencil in his fingers. The small device had tiny grips and was undetectable - borrowed from NRI itself.
He slipped into a faster moving current of people, jostling its way toward the Lorrdains. He let himself 'accidentally' brush up against her, slipping the device up against the inside hem of her jacket. He felt a slight fluttering under his fingertips as the device cloaked itself against the hem and kept moving as though nothing had happened. He pulled out the cell phone and made as though he were calling someone, when actually he was dialing in the code to activate the transmitter. He brought it up to his ear and spoke softly, "Record."
Immediately the sounds of walking and New York City crowds came through the earpiece.
"Centre three."
The sound narrowed down to conversations, dampening out the rustle of fabric and sound of footsteps and traffic.
"Centre two."
Once again, sound was dampened to only those conversations closest to the transmitter.
"Centre one."
Only the voices of Sylvana and Arrek, and very few others, came through now.
". . . back to the Consulate, I think," she was saying quietly.
"I'll walk you back, Sis' - but I admit I'm not really in the mood to go back yet. I need to walk more."
"You go on ahead. Maybe I'll stop by a bookstore or something - the trip to Coruscant's bound to be rather long."
Coruscant?
"You could do that, maybe I'll get a new game for my handheld." Arrek sighed, "Sounds like a plan. I'll see you later?"
Sylvana's voice was subdued, "Yeah."
He looked up from where he'd paused against a street lamp, seemingly to listen to the person on the other end of the line to finish telling him something important. He nodded and spoke once more, "Stay." Then closed the phone and put it in his pocket as Sylvana passed him.
He followed her to the bookstore, where she picked up a few fantasy novels, and then headed back toward the consulate. He pulled a piece from behind the phone and tucked it into his ear like an invisible hearing-aid.
"Can't believe I'm going to Coruscant so soon," he heard her say softly to herself in wonder.
Pulling out the cellular he spoke simply, "Record all," allowing the device to record any and all things said as though in a Bothan's hearing.
Like a shadow, he followed her to the Consulate, and like a shadow, the Watcher slipped away.
Sylvana made her way to the suite, and let herself into her room. She placed her purchases in her bag and, after taking off her shoes and tossing them in the corner, she removed her jacket and threw it on the bed. She sighed deeply, too spent to stay awake, too weary to sleep. She moved back into the common room, and went over to the windowseat and rested her head against the pane. She spoke in a half-forgotten, possibly made-up, childhood tongue for a moment, then silently she did contemplate the sunset.
"Alae gwathren uial, echui thurin annui dôr. Erusen îdh, na annûn dìnen mân, ned Adar-Eru milui camlann." (1)
The Watcher listened to the soft spoken words, amplified in his hidden earset by the high quality of the transmitter. It sounded as though she were reciting a prayer, but the language he could not begin to guess.
He closed his eyes and listened as though to a soft symphony. The spell broke as he heard her sigh, and then the Mendellian Consulate suite was silent.
"She is remarkable, I shall ensure her safety."
(1) Behold shadowy twilight, awakening hidden western lands. Children of God rest, with sunset's silent spirit, in Father-God's loving palm.