Meeting of Minds

[Srina Talon]

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M E E T I N G - O F - M I N D S ​

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Druckenwell had gone from prosperous, to downtrodden and destroyed, to prosperous again. The Confederacy had made great efforts to repair the mistakes of the past, and sought to restore the planet’s shipyards to their former glory. Not to mention, they had worked equally hard to repair the status of the economy, by making it a hub for CIS business deals and trade centers. Since the planet had willingly returned to the fold there was no shortage of work or opportunity. Suffering had lessened. The people were improving their quality of living as well as learning to adapt and create again.

Srina Talon waited patiently in a meeting room on one of the uppermost floors in the Il Avali Industrial Complex with her cousin, of sorts, Rin Talon. Echani were already very similar in appearance. It seemed that Srina and Rin were no different. In lieu of Darth Metus, she had arrived to meet and make arrangements with the newly minted owner of the Kuat Drive Yards. Her Master hoped that she would be able to find a way to sway this [member="Ferron Troste"] to either work with them, or, align with the Confederacy itself.

These negotiations were more down to earth than some, not out of disrespect, but for the simple fact that the Confederacy really had nothing to hide. Not from a future business partner, and, not from the people of Druckenwell. They had made their stance clear long ago, and if it weren’t for the fact that they were still dealing with the aftermath of the invasion of Tatooine, Darth Metus would have been present himself. There were very few things so near and dear to his heart as beautiful, powerful, bountiful starships.

As it stood, he had been taken from the front lines long enough to care for her, so, despite his protests, the pale-skinned woman insisted that he get back to it. A war could not be won with the Vicelord sequestered in the medical ward at Sinner’s Well on Ryloth. He did not want her launching herself into full-scale battles against the Imperials, not yet, and as a dutiful apprentice, she would abide.

The white-haired woman wore a gown of navy blue that was edged with delicate metalworking. Although she looked as if she had been born to wear such things, shining sapphires and all, the small woman had not actually chosen the attire herself. No, the attendant droids that languished without anyone to take care of on Ryloth had chosen it for it. They seemed to have more acceptable taste when it came to fashion. Srina, if possible, would choose her armor first. Nothing second. “Worry not Rin…I have been through many, many business discussions and diplomatic ventures. Darth Metus will support any decision that I come to.”

Mr. Troste was not yet late, but even still, the Echani found herself checking the time. They’d arrived quite early to prepare and make sure everything was in order. There was a holo-table full of contracts and possible ventures they could look into—But more than anything, Darth Metus was interested in KDY would come up with next. The Confederacy planned to expand. They needed to broaden their horizons on the subject of naval power if they intended to keep going at the same pace they had been.

A rather pleasant looking protocol droid entered the meeting hall, filled with every amenity they might need, informed them both that Mr. Troste would be arriving soon. Srina looked around the room, noting that each area looked pristine, from the self-serve bar in the back, to the conference table, to the lounge seating on the side. There was nothing more they could do but wait.

Tags: [member="Rin Talon"] | [member="Ferron Troste"]

 

[Karacan Rigten]

[member="Srina Talon"]


Ferron wasn't a man to be tardy, however traveling through space, dealing with traffic, protocols to to enter CIS space and clearance to land... especially with the fact he rarely, if ever, traveled away from Kuati, and secondly never being to Druckenwell before.... we'll just say he didn't know how to set an appropriate time table. Thankfully, he did leave quite early compared to hyperlane estimations, which gave him time to 'kill,' as it were. After coordinating with traffic control and meeting with the chauffeur to take them to the appropriate place, Ferron was able to arrive on time. He preferred being early or on time, no matter the situation. Unfortunately, he came with a lot of baggage, that baggage being his Security. He did not like leaving the comfort of his Orbital Array. It was like another planet, its own rules, ecosystem, livelihood, and he wouldn't need as much security. Ferron was no soldier, but he dressed like a commander in a formal way, as he did address a militarized company and soon to be a militarized faction that would work to maintain and secure KDY facilities and installations. This baggae came in the form of ten security guards. Perhaps overkill, but as said, he is no soldier. Secondly, it isn't a lack of trust on the person he was meeting, but that he was head of a famous company, and rivals would not like to see a new KDY rising up again.

Ferron greeted with the personnel outside the meeting room, but he didn't stay long. He insisted his men be split around the entrances, some at the front of the building, and some covering the doors to the meeting room, while a minimum of two were required to be with him at all times. Not soldiers, but typical security personnel without armor, they were instructed to just... hold off enemies, rather than dispatching them. Once he entered the room, he noticed two women. Assuming these were the two he was supposed to meet, they were two fine, young ladies. Were they the secretaries? Ferron made no attempts at assuming who they were. The business world has changed quite differently compared to the average business, not even KDY conformed to the norm anymore. The security guards pushed in from behind Ferron, planting themselves at either ends of the room, in positions they could both see the table. Ferron had of course brought a briefcase along with him, in case information that was needed was not readily available. He could have brought a datapad, but he didn't want to connect with the local holonet, unsure of its safety perimeters. He swapped hands with the briefcase as he stepped forward, reaching out a hand to shake. "Hello there," he said with a smile, "President Ferron Troste, sole owner and proprietor of Kuat Drive Yards."

 

[Rin Talon]

There was something to be said about learning the galaxy, and everything it had to offer, on a fine line between embarrassing misunderstanding and cold acceptance. Something that the young Echani, Rin, had been educated hastily to accommodate; the test for any fruition in her lessons now come to bear on a planet recently acquired by the Confederacy.

Following her progenitor closely, silently observing the world that was Druckenwell, the echani doppelganger couldn't help but feel cold and isolated surrounded by the structures laid across the planets surface. While the woman she shadowed showed little concern for the environment and the task to come, the clone chose to silently bear the threateningly crushing lack of awareness. She knew as well as any that there was a difference between knowing ones surroundings and effectively displaying the farce that she held familiarity; and she would never have admitted that she suffered the latter.

Their arrival to the meeting place in question had not been the most difficult part for Rin, however, as she walked through the various halls and endured the turbolifts she questioned how her cousin, as she recalled she'd been educated to call her, managed in the gowns and dresses her attendant droids had chosen for her. She would not have required the notion to raise such a question, in the depths of her mind, had she not allowed herself to be dressed by the droids herself. A decision that, in hindsight, had been profitable but minutely humiliating. Young in mind and in experience, with appreciation to certain experiences, Rin was all but sure the green dress she wore was what she would have intended.

She blamed it on her own request. Failure to launch.

Even still she endured, pushing through her own thoughts as she listened to what her cousin uttered to her in regards to their meeting. In truth, she trusted the other without question; finding no real desire to challenge one her flesh and blood so closely mirrored. Even as the other spoke regarding Metus' decision there were no pangs of guilt, agitation, or even doubt. While she herself was not entirely sure of her own ability to attend to such decisions, she was keen to pay close attention to [member="Srina Talon"]'s every motion.

"I understand, you will receive no contest from me," she breathed as she composed herself, allowing her tensions to pass through her and into the air. With a tilt of her head, and a mild adjustment of her posture, Rin turned her attention to the door through which they had come as her cousin examined the rooms interior. As she did so, the protocol droid making it's way to a comfortable position nearby the young echani was keen to witness their guest make his way into the room; cold, examining silver-blue eyes training on him as he approached.

His hand raised, his posture reflected interest but the doppelganger deferred the notion to Srina. If the hand were to remain presented for both of them, she would take the gesture in kind. Were it not, she was content to fix her attention upon her forefront task of protecting Srina Talon from any and all dangers. He was polite and possessed proper etiquette, but even [member="Ferron Troste"] was not immune to her suspicion that she required to keep her cousin safe from harm.

Even still, she did not outwardly reflect her internal machinations; as cold and composed as when she had first arrived.

 

[Srina Talon]

Srina rose from her seated position with all the grace and eloquence of a little Queen. She seemed to be carved of stone, specifically unblemished marble, with a presence that could only be described as reserved. She did not seem unkind nor did she appear to be overly friendly. “Greetings.”, she responded smoothly, silver eyes flickering as they examined the businessman, shielded by two very heavily armed security guards. “It’s a pleasure, Mr. Troste.”

Interesting.

The Echani held no fondness or love for a man that could not protect himself. It was a disgrace, and a waste of potential, when any organic form, unless limited by infirmity could be molded into a weapon. He was here to meet with the Confederacy for profit. He had not ventured into a war zone. Fearful, paranoid, and overcompensating. “My name is Srina Talon. I am here as a proxy for the Vicelord of the Confederacy. Any contracts, agreements, or decisions I make will be supported by the full authority of Darth Metus.”

The pale-skinned woman paused, briefly, before gesturing delicately toward the vision in green beside her. They looked so similar, that most would feel as if they were looking at mirror images, versus two separate individuals. “This is my cousin, Rin Talon, who will accompany our proceedings.”

The slender Echani flowed across the room and pressed an aristocratic smile on primrose lips. Gray eyes remained luminous under the fluorescents, filled with dim stars, and touched with an eerie sense of perception. “If you will accompany me to the briefing table I will provide proof of my claims. I certainly do not expect you to accept my presence over that of the Vicelord on faith alone.”

To that end the young apprentice turned and headed toward the holo-table that was long, surrounded by chairs, and clearly meant for larger, more opulent meetings than this one. Her hand moved in the air and the AI picked up on her signal, causing the table to light up, and the visage of Darth Metus appeared. The familiar formal and yet booming tenor that Srina knew so well began to play, relaying a pre-recorded message.

“War is a machine that never stops moving. I’m sure that you’re aware of that, Troste. I cannot leave the front lines for the sake of the Confederacy...So I leave you in the capable hands of my apprentice. You will find my bio-metric confirmation of the validity of this message in the memory rod.”

Srina held up said memory rod, the gold tube gleaming slightly, as she passed it over. “As you may be concerned that we are attempting to splice into your systems, that memory rod is closed circuit, and will be destroyed after confirmation. Would you like access to our secure Holonet?”

Tags: [member="Rin Talon"] | [member="Ferron Troste"]

 

[Karacan Rigten]

[member="Rin Talon"] | [member="Srina Talon"]


It was true, Ferron was no warrior. It was also by choice. However, he had committed himself to a different purpose, making his own sacrifices on the way there. However, he was not a frightened pup, even in the face of war; you couldn't have that and be the leader of Kuat Drive Yards, the very company that fueled a galactic conquest at one time. But as Ferron stood there with conviction, it was not because of ego or pride, but from determination. His goals didn't stop at just Kuat Drive Yards, he had many years to pursue whatever he wanted. Whether it was to wield a rifle into combat, master a combination of offensive skills, or become a tactical commander and lead fleets of armada's to victory. Still, Ferron knew he was a lesser man, but he allowed no obstacle to stop him from his goals. He patiently listened to the young woman who spoke before him. The other, cousin, didn't seem to be in charge, more like an observer or something, as the one he was meant to speak to was displaying their credentials to him. Ferron didn't keep anything confidential on him, and even if he lost control of something he owned, KDY had emergency failsafes to prevent theft or loss. When she offered for him to join at the briefing table, he clutched his briefcase and made a gesture for Srina to continue ahead of him, being courteous, "After you." As he followed, however, he did watch this 'cousin,' as it was peculiar that just a 'cousin' was supremely identical. Clone or not, it wasn't entirely his concern. He was only concerned that she had to be present.

Ferron shook his head slowly, raising his briefcase and placing it on the table, gently sliding it to the side. "No, it's alright. We don't have to go through a hundred security checks and verify credentials. I'm in a Confederate facility on a Confederate world, in Confederate territory, with Droid Security. If necessary, I can freeze these contracts until I have confirmation later. No need to keep business waiting, anyway, right?" Ferron straightened his attire, and if there was seating, he'd sit down, but not before offering the ladies to sit first. "So, I'm sure I have things to offer, and you have things to offer. Before we get to negotiations, I must inform you; KDY no longer participates in galactic conquest. I'm willing to support your efforts in many ways I fine redeeming, But I can not supply you with fleets and armadas. A class of ship, themed to your approval is well within the realm of possibility, and perhaps more, should the negotiations fare well enough." He paused, giving a firm stare, showing true intent, "but KDY will not submit nor proclaim loyalty to one entity or another. As I've said countless times, this doesn't mean we can't be trusted. On the contrary, it means we can be well trusted, as it is entirely unlikely we would side with your enemies."

 

[Darth Empyrean]

The guards at the gate did little to stop him, and nobody seemed to notice the alabaster stranger as he walked from hallway to hallways idly sliding his fingers across the various surfaces. A soft sigh left his ashy pink lips, only for golden eyes to take hold on the far elevator at the end of the hall. He was here for all of ten minutes, and boredom had already began to take root in his frontal lobes; no doubt it was going to lead to some poor decisions.

Cybele had done her research at least, and on the top floor of this building stood a viceroy and her constituents, likely powerful players with large bank accounts and an ego to match. None of that mattered to The Slave, but Cybele demanded his most respectful demeanor at the meeting; and he’d at least half try. Besides, if someone got on his nerves there was also the ‘Nasticiri’ knife hidden under the fur coat he draped over his shoulders; and wasn’t a massive hole in the chest the true great equalizer of the galaxy?

He thought so, but Cybele my disagree.

Pressing a few buttons, the elevator doors slid shut and pressurized before repulsorlifts kicked in and sent him soaring to the heights of the enigmatic tower. Enigmatic to him, because he mostly didn’t care enough to do the research involved in understanding it; only enough to get to the top floor and do what was asked of him. What was asked of him exactly? As music trailed over the intercom above him, he couldn’t help but forget just what he came here for…

A contract, of course! He was here to peddle death machines, how could he have forgotten?

A grin slipped itself over his previously placid expression, molten gold eyes narrowing with jubilance as the door finally opened and he walked farther into the would be penthouse. Although guards were present, none seemed to notice the Sith; something likely a result of him cloaking his very figure right under their noses. The force allowed such things, after all.

Still, while being unnoticed was all fine and dandy; today he was here to make an impression.

The few at the table would bear witness to him and the fur lined figure broke an ivory grin riddled with poison, letting silver drip from his tongue with little hesitation;

“Why hello, everyone. I come, representing Jaeger Solutions. I wouldn’t be interrupting something, would I?”, he said barely dancing around the fact he was clearly pushing in on a conversation not his own.

[member="Ferron Troste"] │ [member="Srina Talon"] │ [member="Rin Talon"]

 

[Karacan Rigten]

[member="The Slave"] | [member="Srina Talon"] | [member="Rin Talon"]


Ferron jumped from his chair as the stranger walked in. Ferron was not warned of any other party members, it it appeared he got past his guards outside. There was no thinking about it, the only technology to let someone slip by the physical eyes of another was a personal cloaking device, but this individual didn't use such. They came in, in full view, which must have meant they were a force user, a powerful one at that. The bigger problem? Jedi weren't known to abuse their powers in official business. They followed the rule and law of local planets as they were supposed to, those who didn't bother going through security checks were of the greedy kind of organizations. The kind Ferron had even far less trust of. Of course, the Jedi weren't perfect, either. But KDY's affiliations were made, and made public, because of their past relations. The Galaxy needed to know where KDY stood with how they had been treated and shrunk in the past. There were many reasons not to inherently trust the CIS, but in order for KDY's voice to be heard, Ferron had to take chances. But did they not care about Ferrons safety? A massive organization can be as care free and bigoted as they want, not calling the CIS that, but this was a serious meeting, and if they didn't care about Ferron then he had no business being here. "Guards!" Ferron ordered, however the ones outside didn't seem to hear him before The Slave closed the door behind them. Ferrons guards came to attention; the one behind Ferron rushed in front of him and aimed his rifle at The Slave, while the other guard on the other side of the table also aimed his rifle at The Slave, yelling, "Let me see your hands! Hands up!"

Ferron pointed at The Slave, confused as the individuals at the table he was speaking with were not outraged by the strangers entrance. "Who are you," Ferron asked, then turning his head to the ladies, "who is this? Do you know them?" Ferron shook his head, turning to The Slave. "Listen, I don't know who you are, or what you're doing here, but this is a private meeting between the Confederacy of Independent Systems and Kuat Drive Yards," he continued, looking at Srina, "unless this wasn't a private meeting.... or, unless, this was a ploy to get the President of KDY out of his protected station. Was this your plan? Or did you consider me invaluable enough that you didn't bother with enough security to keep a Force User out? Either way, I don't have the slightest bit of understand of what's going on, and someone damn well better give me some answers. I didn't have my guards block the karking doors for nothing!" Ferron had a hold out blaster on him, but he didn't want to have to grab it just yet.

 

[Darth Empyrean]

Two guards moved to put weapons in The Slave’s face, demanding to see his hands and treading dangerously close to murder. Yet, even with mortality staring him down, The Slave continued to move with an esteemed excellence that betrayed his upbringing; each hand slowly brought up to offer no resistance all the while a cruel grin steeped itself on his face. His gaze came down on Ferron, twisted and sulphuric, rancid in pressure alone but matched only by the silken drag of his voice;

“A little jumpy, aren’t we?”, he said with coyness.

“I introduce myself, offer you nothing but a grin, and you respond with weapons in my face?”

The Slave glanced now between his guards, but only momentarily before laying the cold stare back on the would be executive. There was nothing comforting about his presence here, and every movement he made seemed to run a chill up a spine.

“Are you socially inept, or just rude?”

He never did introduce himself.

[member="Ferron Troste"] │ [member="Srina Talon"] │ [member="Rin Talon"]

 

[Karacan Rigten]

[member="The Slave"]


"Hilarious," Ferron said before softly and slowly placing a hand on his guards shoulder before slowly taking a few steps back to give them space, the guard following with backward steps. "The next time someone enters you place of privacy, unannounced, with the power to snap your neck with the flick of the wrist, you can proceed with pleasantries then as well. I'm not going to play games when a life is at risk." Ferron released the guards shoulder and reached for the guards holstered blaster and took it out, but then Ferron held it to his own side. He was considered an expert marksman, but in general it was just a hobby; his only hobby. But he didn't want to resort to violence. "What are you, Sith? All of you are arrogant, thinking everyone should submit to you and your power. And to answer your question, yes I'm jumpy. I always try to be alert of my surroundings. Did you knock out my guards or do some force shavit? Srina, if you wanted a meeting with someone else you should have informed me. I only participate in meetings when I know how the situation will be, I didn't come all the way here to be talked down to by someone who doesn't follow any sort of rules except their own passion." Hopefully, this was just a misunderstanding, and not a threat on the CIS' part.

 

[Darth Empyrean]

“I actually just walked in. Step by step.”, he beamed.

Met with a hearty guffaw, The Slave moved to overdramatically wipe a tear from his eye and sigh as his chest and belly began to rest. Setting his arms back in his pockets, he cocked his head to Ferron with an idle fancy, though he remained squarely where he was when weapons were pressed against his life.

“You truly must have me confused for someone else. I have neither the gaul to take your life right now, nor the inspiration. Infact, I wasn’t even given an invitation.”

Glancing to Srina, he seemed to speak in her direction without facing her;

“Something I’m still sore about, I can assure you.”

Golden orbs fell back on Ferron before a hand came from his pocket and pointed at him;

“But you do seem familiar, do I know you?”, he said with a slight squint.


[member="Ferron Troste"] │ [member="Srina Talon"] │ [member="Rin Talon"]

 

[Srina Talon]

The slender Echani remained still while she waited for [member="Ferron Troste"] to acclimate to her presence versus that of Darth Metus. Srina typically introduced Rin as her cousin, to save on time, explanation, and confusion. Her people as a whole, looked nearly identical, just as she appeared almost identical to her mother, and her grandmother before her. In Echani culture it would be considered the norm. Yet, some people in the galaxy were ignorant, and remained unaware of their genetic abnormalities.

Nevertheless, unless Ferron was extremely Force Sensitive, there was no reason for him to suspect the woman that stood beside her was a clone. None, whatsoever.

Srina frowned, briefly, when the ‘businessman’ declined their credentials. It was inefficient in a way she found horrendous, when the proof was right before him, and he saw fit to ‘peruse it at a later time’ and ‘freeze contracts’ if he so saw it fit. That was not a trick of the trade. It was a game. Laziness. Srina, did not like games. “As you wish.”

The Apprentice walked around the holo-table and pulled out a seat for her cousin, though, she chose to stand. Chivalry was unnecessary. He explained his stance on their dealings and the pale beauty was left wondering, what, exactly, Darth Metus hoped to gain. “We have fleets. We have armadas. We have more friends, more allies, than we can count. We are a well-oiled machine bred the war, liberation, and the protection of our systems. You have your ways and we have ours. Understand, we seek innovation, Mr. Troste.”

“We did not invite you to hold hands.”

Her words trailed off when she felt a presence that she had only barely brushed past once before, on the planet of Falleen, coming up the elevator. She had been expecting a meeting with Jaeger Solutions at some point in the future, but, the representative had not been named and a time had not been set. “You are—“, she began to speak, but was abruptly cut off by Ferron jumping from his chair, ordering his unregistered guards into action.

Yelling began. Threats. Accusations. Insinuations. Silver eyes flickered with disappointment. Why were all men little more than younglings? Back and forth they bandied insults, without really giving her a chance to say anything, or intervene, before seeming to decide that paranoia and smugness were the correct emotions to follow.

“…That is quite enough.”, she spoke simply, quietly, though her honeyed voice would be heard in every corner of the room, in every way, until it settled coldly in their bones. “You.”, she, the young woman spoke none-too-gently, nodding her head toward the Slave. “Stop provoking him.”

“And you, Troste, may address me as Ms. Talon—since you so adequately just made all of us aware of your opinion of me and mine. The Confederacy wishes to do business with competent individuals.”, the words that fell from primrose lips were not filled with vitriol or distaste, merely the opposite, though they were edged with a certain layer of steel. A presence of authority was not something she lacked. Srina took a step forward and let corruption bleed into silver eyes, changing them from gilded mirrors of mercury, to yellow-gold jewels. “You are already aware that the Confederacy is led by a Sith Lord. I am the Apprentice of one. I -am- a Force User. You are a very small man, in a dozen ways, to bring your prejudice here and leave it so brazenly on display. You brought soldiers and I said nothing. You brought weapons to my home—and I said nothing out of respect for your personal comfort. Yet, you choose to threaten harm, accuse, insult and demean us. This juvenile overreaction speaks intensely of your acumen and the subsequent lack of it.”

“That being said…You will instruct your men to lower their weapons immediately and you will holster the one you hold. If you do not comply, I will show you the arrogance you speak of, and relinquish your blasters myself. Your life was, and is, not in any danger. You may not listen to him, but you will, listen to me.”

The wintry woman paused, her head tilting as she evaluated both men, and in that moment found them wanting. The stories about the ‘President of the KDY’ being fluid and proficient had clearly been exaggerations. He was but one of many, many entrepreneurs in the galaxy. If he would not see reason the Confederacy would simply take their contracts elsewhere.

“Now. You both may still your tongues, and sit down like the civilized men you pretend to be, so that we may proceed—or you can be escorted from the system. It is your choice. My patience is not an infinite resource for you to waste.”

Srina Talon was nothing, if not shrewd, and efficient. She disliked the theatrics and liked even less the disrespect that so easily flowed. If things did not change, quickly, this meeting would be exceedingly short.

[member="The Slave"] | [member="Ferron Troste"] | [member="Rin Talon"]

 

[Darth Empyrean]

As the slender Echani worked through the paces of a leader, The Slave couldn’t help but smile a bit as he watched her. The gusto, the energy she encompassed was nearly intoxicating, and she was one of the very few who had ever truly tried to stand up to him. Even some notable Masters of Ren became flustered trying to deal with his insurrectional language and dodgy demeanor; but she attempted to take it head on with hopes of flooding his personality with her authority. It reminded him faintly of those who once owned him, masters on masters it would seem.

Though, he wasn’t owned anymore.

“Why, I was just trying to have a conversation.”, he said innocently. He was most certainly not, but his tone sure sounded sincere.

Removing the fur coat and resting it on the back of the chair, The Slave revealed clothes that seemed… all too regular for a night out partying, than one for a business meeting. A somewhat well fitted gun metal grey shirt, a necklace ordained around his necklace seemingly made of leather, and pants that were only a few shaders darker than what he wore on his chest; but equally as fitted. Sitting down, he took on a more relaxed stance, but the smile on his face never ceased.

Lucky for Troste, The Slave seemed no longer as interested in him as he did this ‘Ms. Talon’. His gaze was far from soft, seemingly penetrating her skin as he waited for her to speak next. It was a stare that seemed challenging, pressured and irrevocable, but one that was betrayed by the soft grin he kept pursed to his lips. He was testing her, more than likely, waiting to see what she’d say next; but what was it he wanted to hear?

At least he wasn’t talking.

[member="Srina Talon"] │ [member="Ferron Troste"] │ [member="Rin Talon"]

 

[Karacan Rigten]

[member="Srina Talon"] | [member="The Slave"]


Any positivity that remained within Ferron had left him, he was done. He took a breath as he paused and listened to Srina; of course her demeanor was intimidating but it didn't make Ferron waiver, he only stopped and listened out of respect. But now that respect was gone. "No," Ferron said. Bluntly, and cold. His eyes squinted as he stared at Srina, "it was the very reason why I came here. Because you liberate and helps worlds to become independent. You don't exist as a ploy or do harm in the name of peace, as the old Confederation did. I know history, Miss Talon. The Jedi were cut down by ordinary people, augmented clones, but it doesn't take a force wielder to kill another, force wielder. What I mean by that is I am not afraid of you. Your threats are hollow. Yes, it's true you could whip your hand and send me flying into the wall, but guess what; the galaxy is a dangerous place and I will not be intimidated and forced into a corner to cower!" With a stern look, Ferron reached over and grabbed his briefcase. "You may look at me with disdain, question my etiquette, and put my intelligence in the spotlight. But one thing I will tell you; My reasons are solid, for everything I do. I questioned your care for my safety, because you don't show yourselves as heartless bastards. If I truly mean nothing to you then why even bother asking me to come here?" Ferron reached up to point at his neck, "do you see a collar here? Do you!? You don't control me, you don't control Kuat Drive Yards. No one does. Kuat Drive Yards is a company of People, People who do not bow to anyone. I make a wrong move? We all go down. Kuat Drive Yards look for people to trust. And you're burning that bridge, if we were ever even building one. So what, if I don't have," he continued, with a weird hand gesture, mocking magic or the force, "your little powers? You think you're better than me because you went on a spiritual journey and can move planets? Or part of some... holier than thou order of people that makes you superior? This galaxy has treated none of us well - wielders of the force or not - but all I am hearing is someone who wants to conquer another. Put them in a place they think they ought to be. Next time, if there is a next time, everything better be on the table. Don't think I'll give you the benefit of the doubt again. You and your armadas and armies - you don't need me. Contracts or not, I have everything I want, I just wanted to show support. If you wish to do business with others, you better learn really quick, Miss Talon, when you treat someone like Bantha dung, and don't expect it in return, you show just how brainless you really are. Overconfidence is a slow and insidious killer." He finished, taking a breath and making a gesture to his guards. "Good luck with your meeting," he said with a nod over to The Slave. He proceeded to leave the meeting.

 

[Srina Talon]

“Choice accepted. Your wish to be escorted immediately from our airspace will be granted.”

Silver eyes burned holes into the back of the President of Kuat Drive Yards. He assumed too much while at the same time seeming to know very little. For all of his arrogance, he had come to them, not the other way around. Rather than to correct the human, again, in the fact that she had never once threatened his person, she let Ferron Troste take the path of the petulant child, and signaled for Confederate forces to let him leave undisturbed. The silvery woman reached for the datapad that sat on the edge of the holo-table and contacted one of the few she could trust to follow her word to the letter. [member="Aedan Miles"] was a Pirate King, a connoisseur of ships, and occasionally a scoundrel…But he was, as he so often mentioned, family.

Srina believed in his inherent goodness even if the rest of the verse did not.

“My first agenda on the docket did not go as planned. Please, take a significant complement with you from Storm Fleet, and ensure that Mr. Ferron Troste makes it safely to his destination. He should be allowed to linger no longer than absolutely necessary. The offerings he brought to the table were…Insufficient. He won’t be doing business here.”

Aedan knew her less than Darth Metus, however, more than most. He would know that she was displeased in a way that rarely happened. Instead of wallowing, however, she set the datapad down and returned her gaze to the second entrepreneur for the day. Part of her wanted to lambast him for egging on her previous potential supplier, however, she had already wasted enough breath on the subject. He was seated, and for once, the slender apprentice reached for a chair to do the same.

It suddenly felt like a very, very long day.

His eyes were different. Expression, crossed with something she wanted to call amusement, laced in intrigue. Echani eyes missed very little, but it seemed, that the eyes of this man missed even less. A long span of silence stretched, if only because, there was more to be gained without speaking. Slowly, her expression smoothed, becoming marble, versus soft pallid flesh. Her eyes remained hard, unreadable, despite the stars that naturally filled them. “Well. You’ve successfully removed any competition without actually trying. Congratulations, esteemed representative of Jaeger Solutions.”

Srina could not deny, that between the two, she had often heard of Jaeger from multiple personnel within the Confederacy. Despite the past accomplishments of KDY, it was Jaeger that held the present, and Jaeger that held the interest of their soldiers and fleeters. She simply did not like the turn this meeting had taken, so suddenly, but she was relieved to have discovered the true nature of Troste before it was too late. She could deal with greasy, two-faced, scumbag crooks.

She could not deal with someone that lacked all spine.

“We’ve met before. On Falleen. You never did tell me what to call you.”

[member="Ferron Troste"] | [member="The Slave"] | [member="Rin Talon"]

 

[Darth Empyrean]

“That's because there is nothing to call me.”, he said with a few light taps of his index finger to his temple.

“Know me, Ms. Talon, as Jaeger. In all aspects, I am.”, he seemed to finish with a bit of a dramatic wave of his arms to either side of him. It was obvious by now he was either extremely full of himself, or high. It was hard to define which.

Where The Slave sat, there seemed to slowly become no presence of which seemed so sickly as before. What sat before them felt no different than the abyss, and in all senses but physical The Slave suddenly wasn’t there; betraying their usual metaphysical senses by simply not existing. The Force seemed to ignore them, but with that he leaned forward once more and spoke in a faintly hushed tone, one directionalized and purposeful, all without missing a beat;

“So what do you remember of me then?”, almost tauntingly directed towards her.

[member="Srina Talon"]

 

[Aedan Miles]

Aedan Miles was actually nearby with the whole of Blood and Wrath fleets preparing to dispatch portions of each fleet for raids when his datapad went off. Looking down at it he started to laugh loudly seeing the message shaking his head he stood and gestured towards his first officer. "Contact all ships we have a new message. Someone has upset Srini Talon we are to escort them out of CIS airspace. Have the fleets Dire-class ships set out in advance to scout out the route. Also mark down KDY was a plausible target for future raids but keep in mind to track what they are building. Don't want to waste our time on more cannon fodder." He turned to face the bridge as 16 Dire-class patrol ships suddenly jumped to hyperspace and away from the planet. He turned his gaze towards the planet smirking as he awaited sight of their protectee. As he saw the target ship leaving Atmosphere he contacted [member="Ferron Troste"] calmly and clearly speaking into the channel. "This is Pirate King Aedan Miles to the president of KDY I have been tasked from escorting you from our space. That good will remains as long as you follow my instructions to the letter. Come alongside the Super Carrier the Death's Embrace and remain at its side for the duration of our journey." He signaled for the fleets to prepare for the jump to hyperspace waiting for the ship to follow his instructions.

 

[Srina Talon]

Srina frowned briefly when the Slave claimed that he had no name. Everyone was known as something, at some point, somewhere in the verse. She leaned back in her chair, mercurial eyes flicking over the casually dressed male, as if trying to figure out the pieces of a puzzle that were all flipped upside down. To associate him with Jaeger was one thing. To refer to him, as Jaeger, was another entirely. She was hoping that he wasn’t suffering the same delusions of grandeur that her previous potential supplier had…But it seemed like it was going to be one of those days.

A day where nothing went right, where she left Druckenwell with nothing but a headache, and possible additions to her ever-growing list of enemies.

“What, respectfully, should I call you?”, she questioned slowly, refusing outright, to refer to him as the moniker that she had heard bandied about. The Slave. The whole concept made her skin crawl. Perhaps it was a misnomer, chosen for irony, but she couldn’t be sure. Not yet. “We need something to add to legal documents so that they hold weight. Wishes and speculation, for all intents and purposes, don’t make them binding.”

He changed while she spoke. Not physically, not the way one expression flowed into another, but fluidly. One moment he existed. Then, the next, according to her senses—He did not. How? Mercurial eyes fixated on his person, seeming relaxed, and unbothered. She had to remind herself that she’d met him before with her Master. He’d been pleasant enough on Falleen. He had no reason to do anything that would jeopardize the goodwill of her Master. It would be, as entrepreneurs put it, bad for business.

The Jaeger man, the company man, asked her what she remembered of him. Silver eyes flickered away. Srina remembered more than she should have. Her Force Sight had been far easier to trigger in those days. Unrefined, unchallenged, and all-consuming. She recalled what her visions had shown her with startling clarity. Warnings, perhaps. “Your necklace.”, the pale-skinned woman responded briefly, thinking of the round object almost immediately. Something about it had caught her eye at the Starlight Festival. “And something else…”

“Darkness.”, she responded after a moment, intelligent gaze moving through memories that had lost clarity a long time ago.

If there was some sort of bait to be taken, or taunt to be had, Srina did not take it.

[member="The Slave"]

 

[Darth Empyrean]

“What should you call me?”, he said with a wild smile.

“John. Tai. Slave-”, he said with a bit more emphasis than the others, “What do you want to call me, Ms. Talon?”

He leaned back, heartily laughing before offering nothing more than a conclusive sigh to his enigmatic joy; falling once more back to a quiet yet malevolent grin and a piercing gaze. Idle fingers played on his jawline, bringing a faint emphasis on his facial features and even more so to the pale lips that taunted her.

“You remember darkness.”, he said after she did. It was the first thing he said that carried with it a sense of understanding; but his gaze did not deflect, nor falter. Instead, he leaned forward and his presence grew tenfold; force or not.

“Do you know, Ms. Talon, what I remember of you?”, he said with a quiet emphasis on each syllable. His words seemed threatening, an odd tone to take considering where he was.

One… Two… Three…

He let the seconds pass by before offering a bright smile, whispering molten silver from his whitened smile.

“Nothing.”

With that, he leaned back and crossed his arms, the venom in his presence and expression seeming to fade ever so slightly. What game was this man playing at?

“So, moving forward, what should I remember about you? About all this?”, he said with a wide gesture of his hand to the table they now sat at.

“Surely not the paranoid rambling of a bygone merchant, correct?”

[member="Srina Talon"]

 

[Srina Talon]

The quiet Echani would give the oddly mannered man nothing. She stared, unblinkingly, as his laugh filled the empty meeting hall. He reminded her of a court jester, meant to confuse, and amuse by making jokes at the expense of others. “It is not a want. It is practicality, and a requirement, on any legal contract. Both parties sign with their name.”

Unless he was expecting some sort of back-alley deal. That wasn’t the way her Master wanted the bulk of their business conducted—not anymore. Not when they had alliances to uphold.

“Choose what you will and I endeavor to adhere.”

Srina waited silently for the man to finish his theatrics. If he expected some sort response from her the pale woman would truly be a disappointment. She had spoken strongly to her last appointment, solely, because he had left the coils of sanity. Not because she enjoyed pressing authority or raising her voice. In fact, she preferred the opposite, but there were times when it became necessary.

“Should it be a surprise that you remember nothing of a waif-thin woman that bumped into you for thirty seconds? I’m afraid, it isn’t.”, her soft features, carved from polished marble, seemed for a moment that they may have wanted to form a smile. Yet, the notion was gone as quickly as it arrived. “The President of Kuat Drive Yards is not worth the effort for either of us to remember.”

“Yet…If you truly wish for something to recall…”, she paused, silver eyes flickering briefly, before once again landing on the nigh wicked curve of his ever-present smile. “You should remember to schedule an appointment. Or, at least, have the presence of mind to knock.”

It wasn’t what he getting at, she was sure, but Srina Talon had endured quite enough in the last hour. If he wanted to play games, he would be playing alone, and would find this trip a wasted venture. The pale woman did not wish that to be so. She had returned to Druckenwell to bring something new back to the Confederacy—to secure something innovative. To give them the edge they needed to survive the Empire and every other nation that moved against them.

“You needn’t remember me. Only, the reason we’re here.”

[member="The Slave"]

 

[Darth Empyrean]

“Cut and dry? A poor impression.”, he said idly.

The Slave never ceased his grin, but he certainly seemed to allow her to bring the conversation back on point. Watching her continue, he tapped his finger against his skin with a quiet appreciation before raising a brow;

“In all honesty, business alone isn’t my forfeit. Cybele, the real executive of Jaeger Solutions, is the person for all that. All I could show you, you could easily find on the Holonet. Anything I could offer you as a sales pitch is already said.”

He pulled a small datapad from the fur coat draped over his chair; typing a few things into it before passing it over to her. On its screen it was a Holonet storefront with a number of brandings and exposes on Jaeger. From its involvement in shadow wars, arming criminal organizations, down to the fact that its weapons were extremely powerful in most people's hands. All of it spoke to their quality, and more importantly, their danger.

“I’m here for entertainment. It's a shame you’re here for war.”

[member="Srina Talon"]