Cordial Invitation: Abelain Narv'uk

[Tathra Khaeus]

​EDEMAR|MORTEM

​Home.

​The orange buzz of activity diluted the calm violet of the coastal beachhead just beyond the confines of Mortem. It's many skyscrapers, towers and barracks dotting the three sides of the massive pyramid. Spires, stretching high into the black sky; with Ancient Eye warriors standing vigilantly. Several Hundred patrolling the perimeter. Some might call it anxious, but the Matador would call it caution. After the recent attacks, such things were simply necessary.

The cold midnight purple sky was dotted with white light piercing through its violet clouds, many of the people took pleasure in the delights of Edemar's views. A truly beautiful planet, with a interesting past. For billions of years, this planet had been in turmoil. Suffering through change after change, but now the reigns had firmly been grasped. Now, the world was known as the home of the Chieftain. Of a monster of metal and fury. Yet still it was he whom had called for the ceasefire, for the relinquish of frivolous combat.

It was power to know what one could endure.

Thus, he had invited [member="Abelain Narv'uk"] to him home, a landing pad with one of his Promethean Guards; Kabel Drei awaiting his arrival. Soon, they'd both discover what exactly Abelian was worth. And in turn, if he'd ever leave Mortem.

 

[Abelain Narv'uk]

There was a sort of malevolent energy that seemed to pour off of the structure in droves. Not necessarily the influence of the Dark side of the Force, but it would not surprise the Arue'tii if it was indeed present in massive quantities. Something about the massive pyramid seemed to hint at the more carnal cruelties which could be inflicted upon one's fellow man, even if the building itself was not necessarily wicked in construction. After all, when one looked at it objectively, it seemed to be nothing more than a simple geometric shape which had been formed into a massive building. Even the vibrant glow that rippled off of it was not necessarily evil, and yet when it was all put together, the effect was unsettling.

Abelain Narv'uk was not alone within the confines of the shuttle's bay as it hurtled down towards the planet below. No, at both of his sides stood members of the Paladin's Hammer; supersoldiers from a dead regime who had been twisted into hulking masses of muscle and ability by a vicious serum which had consequently slain a third of their number. Only around two-hundred of that group now existed, and the Arue'tii used them frugally when possible, but going to meet a foreign leader after a conflict-filled debacle seemed to be a fairly reasonable usage of the pair. He wasn't technically expecting conflict to arise from his visit, but having his most capable form of warrior around certainly provided a sort of comfort.

The blue-skinned Arue'tii had spent the last several moments going over whatever data files he had of both the world and its leader, but his resources were incredibly out-dated, and he found contradictions to the documents with only simple glances out of the shuttle's viewport. Eliciting a gentle sigh of frustration, Abelain determined simply to be prepared for whatever he found upon the world. There was little doubt in his mind that it was a place comprised more of darkness than light, and he presumed that he might be able to fit into that mold far easier than one completely the opposite of his ideological identifications.

The starship landed with a gentle hiss of mechanical whirring, an expulsion of air, and he felt his side for the lightsaber that rested there, fettered at his side. Upon his opposite hip lay a single vibroblade, a smaller implement which had come in handy previously. Barring the pair of weapons, and the stringent belt which held them in place, he wore only a crimson cape upon his back. With surprisingly gentle steps for his size, the Arue'tii stepped forth from the shuttle, scenting the blood of the being which had come out to meet him, acknowledging that his species was one unfamiliar to him, but the musculature composition of his form seemed familiar enough to that of other humanoids, and he doubted he possessed any organic implementations different than the others; at least, not to an extreme degree.

"Greetings. I was summoned." He spoke, his voice rumbling from deep within his chest, and expelling out of the false chitinous 'smile' he wore.

[member="The Matador"]

 

[Kalyn Tal'verda]

"A big pyramid." Lyra thought to herself.

The Ancient Eye seemed to have a thing for pyramids, pyramid bases, pyramid houses, pyramid ships, pyramid battlestations, its like the pyramids never ended. Everything these guys built was a pyramid, especially pyramids of the ominous and foreboding type. This base was no exception. Apparently this was the residence of some head honcho guy known only as "The Matador". She would have to ask about his pyramid fetish later. She had other business to attend to.

This "Matador" character sent a shuttle with some very scary looking goons who VERY POLITELY suggested in an ENTIRELY NON THREATENING WAY that she come with them. Feeling no need to deny them in this manner she decided to come along. How they found Haven was beyond her, and how they knew exactly where she was even more beyond her knowing, however it seemed this Matador fellow worked for the people who had hired her in that engagement, so that was at least somewhat good.

As the shuttle landed she looked out the view-port and saw several more very large, scary looking men, and another extremely large, scary looking man standing in front of them, that was probably "The Matador" she had heard so much about from these goons. Even more strange however, was another landing shuttle, bearing markings she did not recognize. As it landed the doors to her shuttle opened and she was proded out by the big scary goons. Out of the other shuttle, walked what appeared to be a giant bug man. This day could not get any weirder.

As she was moved in front of the big scary man, the bug man seemed to introduce himself, she felt compelled to do the same.

"These scary guys brought me here saying someone who goes by "The Matador" wanted to talk to me, I assume its you. I am Lyra Sarn, nice to meet you."

[member="Abelain Narv'uk"]
[member="The Matador"]

 

[Tathra Khaeus]

​"Hmph.."

​Consider that Kabel, knew what The Matador was like. The fact that someone mistook him for the Matador bemused Kabel almost entirely too much. Thankfully, his body language was like a stone and his face was covered by his helmet. His crimson cape flowing in the wind behind him, the gold weave of his armoured arms closing together as his hands clasped together. His Plasma Vibro-Axe held in his right hand, his armoured hand clasping tightly over the edge of the hilt, his fingers hugging against the Axe. He was silent for a moment longer as he observed both [member="Lyra Sarn"] and [member="Abelain Narv'uk"]. No genuine impression reached him, it wasn't his job to judge, unless it was judging whether or not these two were a threat.

​Fortunately, it appeared they were not. ​"I am your escort. Come with me." ​Reluctant but cordial words were released with a suave tone, booming electronically from the masked figure as he turned on his heel; not waiting to see if either followed as he lead them down the lengthy landing strip. The Landing pad characteristically having the form of a Carriers hangar with no ceiling rather than a singular pad.

​As they drew closer to the Pyramid, it almost grew in size. It loomed over them, impossibly large in scale. Kabel stopped as Guard standing at the door handed him two individual keycards. Kabel turned, handing them to both Lyra and Abelain. ​"Take these. That way the onsite security systems will register you as friendly."

​After the two took their cards, Kabel lead them inside the facility and within five minutes they were inside an elevator. It travelled up through the middle, of the Pyramid. The elevator lead them sixty floors up, arriving at the Throne Room. As the door opened, ahead of the trio exiting the elevator were a total of six Bellator warriors standing, in full Durasteel get up; hands resting on blades with black cylinder sabers hanging from their belts. Unmoving, like statues. Just like Kabel had been before.

Ahead of them was a massive, crystal amalgamation; humming and trothing with elemental energy; cascades of white, oranges and red churning within it as the crystal climbed against the Throne Room's walls, the edges blackened and bending against the ceiling of the room. However, the red turbulent crystal thrones appearance wasn't the only thing worth noting. The Nexus within the crystal throne, it sent out a tremble through the force.

Sent out an unnerving feeling of turbulent rage pressed deep, like being in the thick of a powerful storm. Yet feeling nothing physically, no sound, completely numb. Only the feeling of impending danger so close at hand. Yet, none sat upon it. The Matador, was nowhere in sight.

​"He'll be here shortly."

Kabel turned away, raising his wrist communicator to his face. Whatever he said, completely unheard by the two guests.

 

[Abelain Narv'uk]

There was the gentle whirring noise of a second shuttle as it zoomed overhead, dropping down to the platform like a vulture falling to consume a meaty chunk of carrion. That was not entirely out of the ordinary, thought the Arue'tii, because this was a landing platform. Nevertheless, he would have expected that the landing pad would have been cleared for the sake of his arrival. It wasn't necessarily that he thought himself to be a grandiose or mighty guest who necessitated such formal considerations, but rather that it was the general structure of meetings such as these that the guest be kept separate from the typical affairs of the ruler's underlings. The chitinous creature internally shrugged, observing with mild curiosity as a woman strode forth from the shuttle, approaching the two of them without any semblance of hesitation, and promptly spoke, identifying herself as Lyra Sarn.

She had implied that the alien before him was the Matador... but Abelain didn't for an instant believe that was true. It was a seldom occurrence for leaders to greet their guests at the landing platforms, and he couldn't envision someone of such political stature traveling without guards, even if they would only be present for the sake of ceremony. Predatory eyes flickered to the slight movement of their escort's fingers as they wrapped around the hilt of his vibro-axe, and then those same orbs lay upon the masked face of the man before him. Fascinating that he would choose to so openly display his readiness for combat. Did that mean that he was afraid? He could think of no other reason that he would so blatantly clutch at the weapon beyond some basic attempt at intimidation.

The Arue'tii chuckled lightly at the movement, his voice deep and rumbling, pouring forth from somewhere within his chest and expelling out of the false chitinous 'smile' he wore upon his face; a steady layer of what appeared to be teeth leaving no entryway for foreign objects to enter into his mouth. He obediently followed behind the escort, taking in the sights of the pyramid, attempting to observe any extensions which might poke out of its otherwise correct geometric shape so as to determine where certain emplacements or rooms must be located. In truth, the sheer magnitude of the project before him made it difficult to discern much of anything, and he felt unnervingly aware of how tiny he was compared to so grandiose a construction.

The escort granted the pair an identification card that would allow them to bypass the security system in place within the pyramid, and the Arue'tii promptly accepted his own, sliding it gently within the sheathe which simultaneously held his vibroblade so that it would not be lost, and so that his hands were free. He was led into an elevator, and throughout the extent of their ascent, he marveled at the fact that there were sixty floors to even rise up. He didn't believe that his own starship possessed quite so many floors, and that was a warship designed to carry several thousand soldiers and to properly house and care for them.

He scented the blood of the Bellator guards before he ever laid eyes upon them, and he observed them for a brief instant before returning his attention to the crystalline construction at the center of the room. It reeked of Dark side energies in a quantity that he was uncertain he had ever felt before, except perhaps in the most extreme of scenarios, such as when it was entrapped within the flesh of a Sithspawn. It radiated such forcible energy that he felt compelled to avoid even touching it lest it somehow take control over his whole form... and yet... there was that aching desire within the pit of his stomach, that parasitic compulsion born of a life of taking life from others to extend one's own, and for a second, he was hungry in a way that he did not know was possible.

He wanted to eat the Darkness. He wanted to consume it for that singular second, to draw it into his vicious maw, and bind it to his form, to strip it away from whatever form it had taken and use it like one uses a meal; to satiate a desire. The Arue'tii recognized this compulsion after that second had died, and slowly he lowered himself to the ground, kneeling before the throne upon a single knee as he had seen others do in the past before such constructs, and shutting his eyes so as to think and consider. All the while, his olfactory senses were active, awaiting the arrival of the Matador, aware that he would smell him far before he ever arrived in the throne room.

[member="The Matador"] [member="Lyra Sarn"]

 

[Kalyn Tal'verda]

From the response of the big man it was clear he was not "The Matador", therefore he was probably somewhere in the massive highly imposing pyramid structure. This structure was impossibly large, it towered like a massive giant on an open plain, it was beyond her why its a pyramid, but she could not care less. It was not her money. They were then lead down the walkway towards the massive structure. Somehow it managed to look even bigger up close, it made the choice of pyramid even more perplexing, of all the shapes, why a pyramid? Why not a big skull, or a rhombus, or any other shape. As they approached the door they were handed a keycard to register them as friendly. Why they didn't just use bio metric scanners and a threat analysis system to run this she did not know either, this seemed like a rather blunt way of doing IFF, what would happen if you dropped your card? These were questions that would most likely not be answered in her time here, but it would be on her mind for the extent of her time there.

They were escorted down a long corridor, it was 5 long minutes until they reached an elevator. When inside she inspected the people around her. She was mostly intrigued by the giant bug man. He had a large, extremely hard exoskeleton, the deep almost glowing blue eyes. The strange and alien mouth. It was highly intriguing, she would need to do more research on this particular species. Not for any practical reason but because she was intrigued by the biology of these creatures. Insectoid species were in the minority on the galactic scale, and this exoskeleton at first glance seemed to show some interesting properties. Not to mention it was a rather pretty blue. It was extremely exciting being in such close proximity to the creature in the elevator. If she wouldn't look weird doing it she would start doing materials scans with here datapad, but decided against it.

The pyramid only got even weirder when they got to the throne room. There was a massive crystal throne like thing sitting in the center. It spewed some strange energy from it, which was seemingly dragged upwards by some unknown force. It flowed forth from the crystal like a river of fire, rippling up the walls blackening them like soot. However this was no normal fire, it was something completely different, it was mesmerizing, as the moved forward in the room she couldn't help but watch the energy dance up the wall like a small child watching a flame dancing in front of them. While Lyra was not force sensitive in the slightest she could tell something fishy was going on, the room felt ominous, dark, and somewhat offputting. Lyra was not scared by this, nor effected emotionally, she had a rather strange world view which enabled this, but that did not change the fact that she felt ominous, just didn't scare her very much.

She saw the massive bug man star kneeling, and deciding to not be the odd woman out, followed suit. However it seemed The Matador was late, whether fashionably so or not. After awhile thinking about the properties of the bug mans exoskeleton her leg started falling asleep, hopefully The Matador would arrive soon, she hated it when her leg fell asleep.

[member="Abelain Narv'uk"] [member="The Matador"]

 

[Tathra Khaeus]

​A few levels above the Throne Chamber, was the Matador's personal chamber. A silver circular room built into the spire of the Pyramid; with a black marble floor. In the centre of the room was a massive tank, it's contents brimming with a sickly orange fluid. Low throbs of medical equipment and the slow patient breaths of sleep were all that could be heard in this silent room. All outside sound sucked out, all distraction brought to the edge of numbing calmness. The only present and continuous sound was the inconsistent thump of a heart beating harder than it should.

​The sickly thump as a black silhouette leaned forward in the tank, a broad and defined silhouette reaching the edge of the screen as a small holo-message appeared on the edge of the tank; the breathing shifted in pace as the being woke. Red eyes inspecting the message, with a telekinetic movement of mechanical equipment beyond the tank, the fluid began to seep through tanks connected pipes, revealing a brooding form as it walked from the empty tank.

​The black marble floor shifted, revealing mechanical arms as they placed plate after plate upon a bristling form.

----

​Moments later, an elevator just beyond the edge of Throne revealed a metallic form; red eyes peering from the dark as a chrome face crept from the confines of the elevator. The massive giant in full plate striding between the pillars, standing in between the Throne and the two subjects whom knelt before him. Red eyes observed from the towering figures sockets, almost independent of the motionless face.

​"Rise."

​The words came in a malignant yet pleased tone, not a bark but comparatively a whimper through the electronic bestial voice of the Matador as he turned on his heel, mounting the thrones massive steps that appeared normal to him; slowly descending into the throne. The energy almost acting responsively like a dog happy its master was home, sizzling and dancing around the edges of the seat carved of crystal. Two metal feet sat like hooves, pressing against the edges of the final step as the Matador reclined almost casually, both hands resting against the arm rests.

​"Lyra San, Knight Narv'uk. I welcome you to my home."

[member="Lyra Sarn"] | [member="Abelain Narv'uk"]​

 

[Abelain Narv'uk]

The Arue'tii caught the occasional glimpse of the woman looking towards him, perhaps analyzing him in a vain effort at identifying his relatively alien physiology, of determining what species of being he must belong to, though, Abelain knew that such a search would be without fruition. His people had long since been isolationists in relationship to the galaxy, having avoided much of the conflict and strife that had plagued it over countless millennia, though, they had suffered their own tragedies, and rejoiced in their own celebrations even without the knowledge of the greater galaxy or the many individuals that roamed its innumerable stars.

In stark contrast with the woman, Abelain was perfectly capable of identifying her species, her age, and even small facets of her health simply by the scent of her blood. Each individual of a species possessed relatively similar smelling blood as their relatives, though, the Arue'tii had noted that many possessed a distinct iron smell, albeit with minor variations that he had grown accustomed to when it came to differentiating between the groups. Following that same pattern, it was easy enough to determine small physical qualities of a person based upon their internal blood flow, and he typically had at least a vague understanding of a life form's anatomical makeup even before he had gotten an opportunity to dissect them properly, or, perhaps more realistically, reviewed a document of such scientific exploits.

"Do not be afraid, young one. We are both guests here." He uttered quietly, his false mouth never moving from its facsimile of a smile, giving him a somewhat unnerving visage.

The Arue'tii became aware of the presence of another being approaching them long before he had arrived, just as he had suspected he might, though he gave little hint that he had sensed the Matador; there was little reason to alert his hosts to the full repertoire of his abilities, and raising his eyes mere moments before the being had entered might be suspicious enough to tip his hand. The scent of the Matador's blood was unfamiliar to him, and as he entered the room, Abelain looked towards him from his position, observing the surprising size and armament of the being. There was a flicker of unnerving tension that passed through his hidden joints, deep within the layer of chitin that protected his form, and the faintest twinge of fear plucked at his heart.

It did not bother him that there was some fear there, because he was not so prideful as to believe himself above it. On the contrary, he recognized it, embraced it, realized what it meant, and why it had been conceived. It was a mixture of the size of the Matador, and his likely talents and reputation that accounted for a majority of the fear, though there was also some anxiety that was a direct result of the unknown species of the lording beast before them. That was not to say that it was a morbid fear, nor did he necessarily think that the monstrous specimen would be capable of slaying him should they come to blows, but it was an understanding that there would almost certainly be injury in the process, and that could be just as fatal as any mortal wound.

They were commanded to rise, and the Arue'tii obeyed, acknowledging that there was little reason not to obey the Matador whilst in his home; perhaps partially inclined by the recent political events he had partaken in understanding of late, and the innate etiquette involved in such activities.

"You are he." It was a statement, its subject glaringly obvious. "It has been quite an intriguing series of events that have led to this, isn't it? Why have we been summoned?" His voice was cordial, lacking in the malignant and wicked energies that seemed to carry upon the voice of the Matador. In truth, he fully expected for the being to shriek at him in a booming and terrible noise, to denounce his question in some vain and prideful attempt at retaining face, or of demonstrating his power.

It would not shock him at all.

[member="The Matador"] , [member="Lyra Sarn"]

 

[Kalyn Tal'verda]

The Matador sure knew how to make a dramatic entrance, that was respectable. The massive beast of a man appeared suddenly through the elevator, he was larger than she expected him to be, a massive beast of a man emerged from the elevator, larger than any other man she had seen in her life. It was like a body builder gained 800 pounds and 4 feet overnight. The voice was even more unsettling. The man's armor was a amalgamation of tubes, hydraulics and servos. It made for a very imposing getup. A normal person might have cowered but Lyra, no, that was not the way she operated, the second she saw this guy she began taking mental notes on the armor, how it could be improved and ways it could be retooled.

When The Matador gave the command to rise, and seeing no particular reason not to she did so. Noting that the energy seemed to calm down when The large man say upon it. She was not well versed in the more mystical aspects of the galaxy, she would have to do research into the mechanism of action operating within this throne, it was unlike anything she had seen before.

The bug man spoke what she assumed were an attempt at calming her, he must have somehow detected that she was afraid. Problem was she was not at all afraid. She was probably more excited than she ever had been in her entire life. She wanted to take apart every single machine in this building, figure out how it worked. The technology was extremely unorthodox which caused her to wonder what benefits such unorthodox approaches provided. It was less fear and more excitement. Lyra feared nothing. This was just a new experience and an exciting one.

The Matador then welcomed them to his home, which got Lyra thinking about how much floor-space he actually needed in this massive complex. Who would need a home this large, she would keep that thought to later, instead moving to respond to their host. The bug man spoke first, commenting on the events that had brought them here. That battle was one of the best moments of her life. She had never experienced pure chaos on that scale before. It was exhilarating. Watching ships trying to figure out what to do without their fancy comm devices and sensor arrays. It was chaos in its purest form, and that means it was great fun for Lyra. She took a great amount of delight in chaos, order was for up tight old people, chaos was true freedom. True enjoyment. She would not have preferred any other way of living.

"It is a pleasure Matador. I must concur with the other guest, what is the reason for our summoning?" She said in the most respectful tone she could muster.

[member="Abelain Narv'uk"], [member="The Matador"]

 

[Tathra Khaeus]

​The Matador observed, watching as the two both rose to their feet. Watching as the insectoid Sith had a analytical process to his thought as his eyes twitched in its bulbous head, pushing itself to its feet as it spoke. The insectoid inquired as to why he'd been summoned. The Matador was silent for a moment as the female ogled both himself and the Insectoid Sith Knight.

​The Matador shifted slightly in his throne, reclining slightly as his chin lowered against the chassis of his armour; observing the two from the height of his throne. The Matador breathed lowly, a soft bestial growl comparable to that of a lion left his layered jaw. His eyes shifted between the two before settling on [member="Lyra Sarn"].

​"I have summoned you because you are potential allies. Allies worth investment to ensure loyalty, I am here to provide said investment."

​Attempting to keep his responses short and sufficient, attempting to answer both within the same piece of dialogue, eyes mostly slightly to [member="Abelain Narv'uk"] as his last words reached the Alien.

 

[Abelain Narv'uk]

Abelain Narv'uk spent several moments studying the massive figure of the Matador before him. There were, naturally, rumors as to his true capabilities, as was common with many persons of public prestige and presence, but it was difficult to ascertain how much of what he had was correct, and how much was simply hear-say made by those unused to the presence of such threatening presences. The armor that he wore was not entirely like any that he had seen before, but he was uncertain as to whether the difference was simply the sheer size of it, or whether it was an entirely different design than any other that he had examined in the past. In truth, his mind was still not entirely accustomed to the technological aspects of the greater galaxy, and whilst he had grown far more proficient than he had been in the past, he still had difficulty at times noticing minor details about machinery and armament.

The Arue'tii observed as the Matador shifted somewhat on his throne. That seemed to indicate to the hybrid that he did not spend much time upon the throne, or else he would not have needed to adjust his position so quickly after having sat down. After all, if all a person did was sit upon a throne and delegate orders to others, they would grow quite accustomed to how best to recline so as to be as comfortable as possible whilst they worked. He also pressed his chin downwards into his own armor, and Abelain wondered at the weight that must certainly be pressing down upon him. It appeared heavy in a way that was likely uncomfortable, and certainly unnatural for a standard humanoid being. Incidentally, that observation only served to further highlight the reasons why this was an inferior species; his own chitinous armor did not weigh heavily upon him, and yet it was likely just as resistant, or perhaps even more so than the bulky suit on the Matador.

The reason for their summons was granted, and the Arue'tii waited for several moments, expecting a clarification that never seemed to come. That raised many questions in his mind, and he decided that since a dialogue had been established, he was within his social rights to ask questions.

"Allies? Whom do you represent?" He had an inkling that he was discussing working with The Ancient Eye, but it was always possible that he was simply looking out for the interests of his own world. That raised another fascinating question about his own political situation. "And, who do you suppose that I represent that you seek alliance?"

[member="The Matador"]

 

[Kalyn Tal'verda]

Allies? This got even more interesting. She knew who this guy was, the paycheck she had recieved after the Battle of Nibelungen had his name on it. This was the warlord of the Ancient Eye. She was not sure if the Matador that the guards were talking about was The Matador, but now that she could see him it was very clear, this was the matador that almost everyone in Wild Space was afraid of. Almost everyone in wildspace knew about him in some way or another, there were legends of his exploits and abilities, and even more legends about his employer, the Ancient Eye. They were about as mysterious as they got, heavily religious and equally as secretive, everyone feared them, but nobody knew exactly who they were. Lyra herself had spent the time to analyze what little footage existed of these people, she had also found trails of their dealings, little snippets like inventory records and weapons purchases, but nothing really solid. However when she recieved the offer for a job from none other than The Ancient Eye, she jumped at the opportunity, not to mention the hefty paycheck.

Now she was here, and it seemed that the legendary Matador wanted to secure her as an ally, she understood why her services were necessary, in an increasingly computerized galaxy slicers were becoming more and more dangerous, and more and more vital for any sort of operation, whether it be espionage, military, police, everyone needed to have a slicer or two on hand to get things done. Her profits had gone up significantly as the galaxy became more and more computerized by the day, and she could do it better than just about everybody else.

Lyra was quite intrigued when the bug man seemed to not understand who these people were, she thought that just about everyone at these parts knew of the Ancient Eye, their capture of Nibelungen stirred up quite a few people. Some welcomed them as saviors, liberators from the chaos that had wracked the region for millennium, others despised this order, preferring the chaos and freedom that came before. Lyra could care less whether the underlying climate she inhabited was chaotic or orderly, chaos followed her wherever she went, and no amount of government intervention was going to change that. In fact, the threat of government oversight just made doing the things she did anyway much more fun.

"I am less concerned with who is representing who here, im more concerned about what you want from us, and the actual nature of this 'investment.'" She said

[member="Abelain Narv'uk"]
[member="The Matador"]

 

[Tathra Khaeus]

​The Matador did not stir, merely listening as the two spoke their minds. The Matador tapped large digits against the throne's armrest, red eyes observing the two as they spoke. How the smaller of the two appeared more diplomatic, and in truth more intelligent. In many ways there was something to be mirrored between a verbal conversation and combat.

​Miss Sarn had no intention of seeing who could create the larger vibration in the pool with their paddle, only a mind for business. Like a warrior, bravado would help her little here. Where as the insectoid Sith seemed more concerned with how his social posturing might be interpreted. The Matador thanked the Gods that he was only half Dovah, being able to stomach the disrespect rather than launch into a frenzy of rage.

​"I am the Chieftain of the Ancient Eye, I reside as the enforcer of the governing of our worlds. And as such, am both involved in military and politics. Your investment? Resources, access to planets and whatever your heart may desire if you prove deserving."

​His eyes shifted to [member="Abelain Narv'uk"] directly, moving from the small frame of [member="Lyra Sarn"]. The red spectacles falling on him as the Giant's chin moved only slightly, the ornate features making his temperament entirely guesswork. ​"You represent yourself. I am not acting as broker to discuss an alliance here, I am inviting you to join us. Become our ally, to serve to our means and in return gain more than you could alone. As much as one's personal feats are to be commended; unity is equal in its power."

 

[Abelain Narv'uk]

The Arue'tii observed carefully as the Matador spoke, attempting to discern any hint of movement underneath his weighty armor, any change in positioning that might indicate a change in his tone or thoughts. His species were predators, and so his attention was rapt and precise, analytical in a way that could seldom be understood by those creatures that never partook of a hunt, never needed to understand the exact weaknesses of a potential foe, never fearful of the things that lurked around their homes that were far more vicious and capable of rending them to shreds. Abelain cast his eyes down towards the soft and weak young woman who stood near him who spoke of the nature of the investment being offered.

The very word investment seemed to reek of business, and dedication, and the Arue'tii immediately began to peg her as a mercenary. She did not seem to possess a physique that he would ascribe to the tenors of combat, however, and so it seemed liable that her work was more technical than physical in nature. It struck him as somewhat strange that she would so readily ignore the discussion over whom was being involved in the offered contract, especially since one of the primary motives of a business arrangement was to find out who would do what work for whom, but he supposed that each person had their own way of conducting themselves.

The Matador spoke of being the Chieftain of the Ancient Eye, and promptly gave a short summary of what that specific position entailed. He proceeded to detail what their investment would involve, mentioning that they would receive resources and access to the worlds of that particular group if they chose to subscribe to the alliance. Finally, in response to his own question, an answer was given that it was the individuals themselves who were being offered the opportunity as opposed to any political bodies, which was something of a relief to the Arue'tii. He was not a socialite, and in fact was known to be quite reclusive when possible, and so he had little intention of attempting to gain rank or position through pleasantries or personalized speeches. Instead, he was simply ensuring that he would not be guilty of deception by promising the forces of an organization or entity that he himself could not enforce; such illegitimate deals were a certain way of making enemies.

"Very well. I accept your offer. What is requested of you?"

[member="The Matador"] , [member="Lyra Sarn"]