From what Silas could see, Miss Blonde's expression shifted when he took off his helmet to show his face. The cold ruthless crime lord had a heart, and it was displayed by the sad remnants of pain on her face. When she saw Silas, she saw him. She saw Preliat. Those early days in the lab, training the clones, getting to know the man. They were never really friends, but Blonde cared about him. She wanted to make sure he was safe, and that was something that she intended on doing.
"Oh Preliat. What have they done with you?" The woman muttered to herself softly.
The woman slowly brought herself out of her own melancholy and sighed a bit. He was a good man underneath all the nerf herder, and Blonde could relate to what Silas felt. So when she spoke it was with a serious tone but there was some empathy laced in there as well.
"I knew-" Blonde paused for a moment to sigh once more.
"Know your brother." He wasn't quite dead yet. Hopefully.
"We used to work closely together before I became what you see now. We may not of always seen eye to eye, but I respected him. I still do, and I want to help you. Not just for him, but for his family and my own. Isley Verd was like a brother to me, and whoever did that to Mandalore is responsible for the death of my family and yours. So you don't need to pay me a cent to help me kill these people. Whatever you need to do the job, you ask and I'll deliver." Blonde's words slowly turned to hate as she spoke of the killers in question.
"All I know is this. It wasn't an outside organization. Mandalorian security is too tight for that. So rule out Sith, they would of been sniffed out before they landed. So that leaves only one explanation. It was an inside job. Someone betrayed you, someone wanted to cull the herd. Someone with power. My best bet would be one of the Alor council. It's one of them, I know it. If it were up to me I'd just kill them all to be safe. But that's all I know." Blonde hopefully would give him enough to go on.
Then the food started to arrive. The house special, a cut of nerf cooked rare and served with pieces of back fat and assorted greens. Once it was placed on the table, the masked man sat down and had quite the set of stones on him. Nobody addressed Miss Blonde like that, well addressed her and lived to tell about it. He'd certainly get his lashes for it, and Blonde didn't mind being the one to give it to him. So her gaze fell to him and even with her tiny five foot tall body, she glared at him with the eyes and posture of a large predatory cat ready to jump on its prey and rip their throat out with their teeth.
"Let's get a few things straight. I'm not your %#$&ing friend. I don't operate through the filter of your comfort. If I want cops to die, then they die. Now if you have a problem then I'm more than willing to let you write a formal letter of complaint. Just make sure when you send it, the return address is your ass." Blonde then poured herself a cup of wine then took a sip.
"Now you can complain and eventually I'll have to stop you from vexing me, or we can do business. That is why you are here I assume. So the question you need to ask yourself is a few dead cops really worth losing out on a great opportunity?" Blonde asked the man then promptly turned towards dinner.
With a knife and fork in hand, the woman tenderly cut into the nerf steak and promptly had a few a bites before washing it down with another sip of wine. She then focused back on the mask man and the cyborg woman.
"Be like the girl over here. Eat, I insist. It's a shame to waste good food."
[member="Silas Mantis"] [member="Nyssa"] [member="Victor D'artagnan"]