Darth Filiae nodded as she sat down, fingers intertwining on the desk and nose resting in the index fingers. Her eyes closed while she nodded, listened, calculated the possibilities with help from her cerebral cybernetics. A breath escaped her lips, drawn out, completely emptying her lungs before they filled anew. Her shoulders dropped a little, mind refocusing while Lord Banshee left.
Eyes still closed, the Chiss mentally reached into the com unit implanted in her skull. She wired a call through her own ship to a proxy-number that then bounced her call through shells to the secured number of her Master.
"Csen'ai, Ch'ah ch'urci bacin'bah ch'a k'izur. Ch'ah bapun to recoi bah 'Jura Marqoz', vi vio'pi sir ten ch'at vatt'i." "Mar, ch'a tiket g'enrazah ten vim reo k'ihn." "Tah bapun ch'at rsah tah viz nah catavcu'im."
Her lips thinned as she waited.
"Mar. Bin'vah vah. N'n. Mar."
The call ended and Filiae opened her eyes. A shadowy hand would soon seize the life of Jura Marqoz and point him to an offer he could not refuse. Her hands moved, remaining intertwined but falling gently into her lap as she leaned back. Meanwhile, an order was issued that a blaster would be aimed on Jura Marqoz family and a ransom called in: If he wanted his family to remain safe, he would take the job offer he was about to receive. If he tried to run, tried to call anyone else, or otherwise tried to escape his fate: Then someone would die.
"You." She looked straight at the assistant Banshee had left behind. "Wait exactly four hours, then call this number. Do not negotiate. Do not hesistate. Give the offer and then give me his reply. Is that understood"
Darth Filiae stared at the assistant with unwavering eyes. Her voice left no question to be asked, just orders to be obeyed. She transferred a contact number to a chip and placed it on the desk for the assistant to take.
Edited by Darth Filiae, 07 September 2017 - 08:05 AM.