Chiss of the Dragon

[Cryax Bane]

Location: Antecedent, The Mandarin luxury high rise, down the street from the Dragon Palace Casino​

Cryax Bane, newly minted President of the Red Ravens Criminal Syndicate rarely left the grounds of the Dragon Palace Casino since his promotion. Tonight, however, against the better judgement of his head of security, the Chiss slicer ventured out into the cool Antecedent night, his personal mission known only to a few of his closest Ravens. Cryax didn't undertake his quest alone, of course. Accompanying him were four Mirari Bodyguard Droids and two hulking Gamorrean guards. Any more than that would be overkill for his destination, The Mandarin, a glittering luxury high rise, was merely a few blocks away from the casino.

Upon entering the building, he stopped at the front desk to chat with the Mandarin's doorman. One of his Ravens and a good friend, Keira Ticon had been missing for days, and his infochants had placed her at the high rise the night she disappeared. Normally Cryax would have simply sent a lackey to retrieve the security camera footage, but this particular doorman, a snooty Bothan on a power trip had insisted that he couldn't release the footage unless the Chiss arrived in person. Reluctantly, the crime boss had agreed.

Only a week into his new role as Red Ravens President, Cryax hadn't yet learned what a dangerous game it was to leave the casino without a small army of bodyguards or an armored vehicle. And it wasn't like someone gave you a handbook on how to be a crime boss. The young slicer might have had one of the most analytic minds this side of the Outer Rim, but he was still woefully inexperienced. The day the Chiss stopped learning things the hard way was the day he would take his last dying breath.

[member="Azrael"]

 

[Azrael]

Of the many innumerable advantages to being Mandalorian, one of their longest and current standing traditions was the ability to go just about anywhere - as the Galaxy had well known their presence for several millenniums strong. Not only were they known, but they were feared, respected - and even sometimes admired for their vast and sprawling lineage, tales of war and fierce reputations. Even before he had met them, Azrael had heard stories about the might Mandalorians intermingled with all the other tales common to be found in the talk among bar folk. The world of Antecedent actually gave some slight nostalgia to the half-breed when he had arrived - with the glittering lights of casinos and all manners of shiny spectacles to catch the wandering eye, and pry loose the digital pocketbook. He'd grown up on a world where most of the revenue not coming from the scrap yards was the half baked and often seedy environments of the casinos that drew in the complete opposite of the work force; those that didn't. Azrael however was not here for the lights, the glitz, the glamour and the crime to be found at Ground Zero. If he wanted crime there were other places less out of the way to visit than this shimmering globe - and with far better connections than the few he'd attained here.

The Mand'alor was here for one reason, and it was one that touched home on so many levels. His little sister; [member=Anastasia Rade] had been dating what had once been a nervous kid in the Raven's employ. There had been a shift in power however, and now the slicer secretary had leveled up to become the President of the Red Ravens. He seemed like a fairly decent guy to Azrael when they met on Mandalore. His Sister had told him a few things about the man they called 'Bug' in the slicer community - and he was impressed about what he had done to make sure that Anastasia was safe. Being a Mandalorian didn't make her invincible anymore than he wasn't, but he appreciated the devotion to prove he actually cared about the blonde. Unfortunately all of that bought him nothing when word had finally reached the ears of the half-blood. Cyrax Bane had holo-dumped his sister, Above all the acts that a Mandalorian could commit, there was only one word in Mando'a that was regarded as the worst possible insult; hut'uun. Cyrax was a coward.

Normally he'd send a squad of his own mercenaries and put a bounty out on such a man - but this was personal. Anastasia was family, the only one thus far that Azrael had personally brought into the Mandalorian family, and he loved her dearly. This required a personal visit from the half-blood to meet face to face with the Chiss scum and see what he wanted written on his epitaph. Getting to Bane however wasn't going to be as easy as it would have been when he was simply the Secretary. In that scenario, he'd of simply met with the Red Raven's leadership personally and demanded his presence. That didn't work when the person you were looking for was the leader of the faction. It would also normally cause a faction war - of which the Mandalorians probably would be for considering what had happened with the Black Sun. This however was not about politics or faction territory, this was about one man, and his grievous crime that had caused the blonde to shed tears from his abrupt departure. To get to Bane, Azrael took a more surreptitious route involving rumors, credits, and a very impressionable Bothan who had cowered under the very persuasive abilities of Azrael hours prior.

As the entourage of body guard droids and green skinned pigs escorted the Chiss through the shiny retractable doors of the high-rise's main level, a quartet of metallic spheres dropped from two stories above, clinking lightly on the ground. Immediately four pulse waves of electro-magnetic power washed in a disc like wave spread on the horizontal plane. Normally one would be sufficient, but in this day and age, Azrael had learned to be incredibly careful with his deployment. The blast itself while not physical would immediately short circuit and diffuse any electronic or cybernetic entity or system within the blast zone that wasn't properly shielded. Four going off simultaneously simply meant they'd be down for longer. The roar of a jetpack cut short just after as the two Gamorrean guards looked up only to be trounced by the descending figure of the Mand'alor in full armor landing atop them with the E'tad Kal in glaive form, slamming into the back of their big thick heads with the blunt force of the staff end. His blade came out in a wide arc slicing across the neck regions of both front guards before they could even drop from the EMP blast alone. His crouched form slowly rose, lifting the crimson visor to face Cyrax Bane. The amplification of his voice from the buy'ce boomed out in a deadly serious tone.

"We need to talk."

[member="Cryax Bane"]

 

[Cryax Bane]

"Bun ch'ah csei footage vah euhn tusvi!" swore the Chiss in his native tongue as the persnickety Bothan refused to hand over the security footage. The young crime boss was just about to play the don't-you-know-who-I-am card, when suddenly a deafening, tinny boom rang out in the Mandarin lobby, and his security droids sparked and sputtered, crumpling to the marble floor, their metal limbs twitching. At the same time a large armored figure descended from a jetpack and proceed to savage his Gamorean guards unceremoniously lopping off their heads in fell swoop of a glaive. "Kteh!" Cryax cursed in Cheuhn, as they joined his droids in the pile of bodies where once stood his entire karking security detail. He didn't know who the man was, but it was obvious from the bek'sar, from where he came. Karking Mandos.

As the figure landed and arose, the Chiss spied a familiar face under the hulking man's visor, and he realized that he once again stood face to face with the Mandalore, a feared and respected leader amongst their many clans. It didn't take a genius to figure out exactly why the man had come to pay him a little social call, since the other man's sister was on the receiving end of an "it's over" text from the Chiss crime boss. Unfortunately for the Mandalore, Cryax was feeling anti-social. The Chiss narrowed his glowing red eyes, faced the powerful man defiantly, and hissed a few choice words.

"You've obviously mistaken me for someone who gives a kark about talking, Azrael. On Red Ravens turf, actions speak louder than words." Before he finished his last sentence, Cryax reached into his pocket and pulled out a thermal detonator. Then, he backed up as far as he could get without leaving the building and hopping on one foot, lobbed the explosive straight towards the Mandalore. As it continued its trajectory, the Chiss crime boss launched himself out the Mandarin's front door, diving for the sidewalk in order to avoid any collateral damage from the blast, hoping to make a run for the Ravens fortress of a casino down the street. Passersby gawked in consternation as it wasn't a common sight to see a Chiss flying out of a building lobby right as it was about to explode.

[member="Azrael"]

 

[Azrael]

There hadn't been any outward show of emotion of anger or malice once he was informed of what had happened. Despite Azrael's grievance with that of the Red Raven's new political front man, he wasn't about to draw attention to the idea that he was going to literally hunt the man down and make him answer for his cowardice. That wouldn't have been beneficial to Anastasia, and probably would have tipped off more people as to what the Mand'alor had planned. Anastasia didn't know he was coming for Bane, though if she knew her Ori'vod at all, it wouldn't have been hard to guess. It had taken some doing to get this arranged on the homeworld of the Red Ravens, and he knew that his actions could certainly send a spark to a flame of war - but unlike most cultures, the Mandalorians would eat that up without hesitation. He wasn't here though to escalate this into something that would need armies pitted against each other - as the only vendetta he cared about was the one ending with a showdown with the Chiss himself.

With such a dramatic descending upon Cryax's security force, he knew that time was short before the slicer turned president would be able to contact more reinforcements. The EMPs would take care of anything he had on his person for the time being, but that didn't mean he was out of options. One of those particular options was the lobbed thermo that sailed through the air while he made a quick exit to the right. Despite the understanding that he was up against what could be considered impossible odds, it was another hallmark of the coward to ditch and run from a confrontation. Azrael's focus shifted ducking down into a combat roll, lifting up one of the droids to cover his back and neck as the explosion ripped through the ground floor of the high rise, doing no favors to the outside areas, and the structural support of the building itself. Beams of permacrete and durasteel were torched and the force of the shockwave ripped them apart like particle board. Sections of the roof tore apart and began to reign down in large chunks the size of boulders. Needless and excessive just to get away from one man - Azrael thought, but was not in a civilian rescue mode, as his target was narrowed and focused on just the fleeing Chiss.

His jetpack fired off, missing another large section of the roof as he blasted out through the transparisteel window pane and circled around, ripping through the air as a trail of fire and smoke followed in his wake. Staying close to the ground, the rangefinder slid up and locked onto the image of the Chiss as he utilized both facial recognition and thermal scans to depict his essence. Adjusting his flight course and plotting the path he wished to take, Azrael rounded the corner and locked onto his target. The bionic arm raised and took aim, launching the liquid cable launcher from atop his wrist to spring into action and launch like a bullet directly at the interception point of Cryax's legs as he went into a swift run. The coiling motion of the cable would snake around and capture the limbs in a tight grip, magnetically locked once the cable's dart head slid around and locked to the cable itself. From there the retraction method activated to reel the Chiss into his grasp at the scruff of his clothing. A change of course initiated lifting Azrael and the boy up several hundred feet towards a nearby rooftop. Once high enough, he'd toss the boy to the rooftop, firing his rockets to get a bit higher and then drop down with a thud just inches from the boy. The Mark II Ripper pointed and primed directly at the back of his head.

"Then let me speak louder!" Azrael roared, holding the weapon at point blank range. The slugthrower that if fired would rip apart his head in one shot, and leave nothing but a twitching corpse in the echo of it's fearsome bark. "You are an honor-less coward Bane, and my sister is too good for the likes of you." Reaching forward to pull Cryax into his bionic grip, clutching by the shoulder, to painfully put him within sight of the slug thrower to his face. "Any last words, boy?"

[member="Cryax Bane"]

 

[Cryax Bane]

As the explosion rocked the lobby of the Mandarin high rise, panicked civilians scurried helter-skelter around the sidewalks. Cryax rolled into the street with an “oof,” and landing badly on his wrist, picked himself back up more slowly than he would have liked. His low light vision allowed him to see through the thick smoke of the blast, and he took off, running like the wind towards the Dragon Palace Casino which glittered like a beacon off in the distance. The demise of his security droids as well as the explosion would have set off alarm bells at the casino by now, and it would only be a matter of time before a Red Ravens strike force would mobilize and arrive on the scene.

Suddenly the whoosh of a jetpack rang out in the air, and the Chiss was yanked right off his feet, lifted in the air and deposited on a rooftop, just like a fish squirming on a line. The grip of a cyberarm clutching his shoulder and the metal barrell of a slugthrower to his head told Cryax that he was going to have to stay put and switch tactics with the irate Mandalore now that running to the casino was off the table.

Rolling his eyes, the Chiss raised his blue-skinned hands in a gesture of resignation. “If you wanted a date with me, Azrael, you should have just sent me flowers,” Cryax said with cutting eyes and a smirk. Then he roughly shrugged his shoulder out of the Mandalorian’s death grip. Amid the wail of sirens in the distance as ambulances and medical droids arrived at the scene of the blast, Cryax faced the armored warrior on the rooftop. In all honesty, Cryax felt bad about the breakup between he and the Mand'alor’s sister. He had cared for Anastasia deeply, but he hadn’t been honest with himself, nor with her, about their relationship. There was also something that had happened that cast a long shadow of doubt on their future together, but he was reluctant to share it with anyone. And certainly not with her overprotective brother.

“I get it. You wanna have a little chat. Ok, then let’s chat. But first you can lower your weapon. Don’t get excited, I’m not going anywhere.” The Chiss’s red alien eyes briefly flickered to the street where he scanned for possible backup from the casino. Nothing yet, but give them time. He just had to keep the Mand'alor busy. So he stared directly at the other man with a challenging glare.

“Honorless? Yes, I’m a criminal. A coward? That’s debatable. Not good enough for your sister? Definitely. Looks like we agree on two out of three things, Azrael.” Here the Chiss crime boss shrugged his shoulders, shaking his head disdainfully. “The last I checked no blood was shed. I guess I didn’t get the memo that said breaking up with someone was a grievous crime. Seriously, man, do you really want to risk going to war over a text message and some tears?”

[member="Azrael"]

 

[Azrael]

It seemed to be a case of best face forward - as what the Chiss had displayed on Mand'alor was nothing but a necessary ruse to both ingratiate himself with Azrael, and gratify that of Anastasia's wishes. He had been clumsy, slightly awkward, but a polite and poignant young man that had been enough for Azrael to allow trust that Bane wouldn't harm his sister, and didn't need a Mandalorian escort to wherever he went. Even when things got heated between the Black Sun and the Red Ravens, and Anastasia was swept up in the whirlwind for the sole purpose of protecting Bane, Azrael didn't come after him for what could be considered an offensive maneuver. This too was nothing by a ploy apparently, given the tone, the sarcasm, and the inherent lack of respect that Bane was showing him at this moment, - even with the slug-thrower was poised to relieve his shoulders the burden of his head. However in the mood that Azrael was currently in - sarcasm was probably the least welcome thing that would come from the Chiss' mouth.

A forceful snap kick of his besk'ar boot leapt out like lightning intent on the solar plexis of Bane for that dating comment. He was not in a gaming mood, and far from amicable with the current situation. Had Cryax had enough foresight to speak in person to Anastasia about this separation, he wouldn't have hunted him. Had he given Azrael the time of day when he approached him in the Mandarin, things might of been a bit more peaceful. But no, Cyrax had decided to lob a thermo in his direction and then decide to get cheeky with the leader of the Mandalorian clans. The gun kept it's trained poise on the boy of blue, having some slight indecision about how long he'd wait before pulling that trigger - but that wouldn't bring satisfaction to him as much as he felt like doing it. He'd come here for an apology, and not for himself, but for Anastasia. She deserved the truth, and he'd come to take it, by hook or by crook.

"Flowers for your grave are the only sentiment I'm prepared to offer." The darkened reply came from beneath his visor, projected for Cyrax as the weapon was kept in hand, but lowered for the time being. The Chiss really didn't want to test Azrael's reaction time with drawing that piece either, not to mention the only way off the rooftop presently was a long drop and a sudden stop. He didn't peg the Chiss for suicidal, - but then again, he was a coward. "You think you can do something to cause Ana pain, and you won't get pain in return?" The Mandalorian half-blood took another step forward, as the digits of his bionic arm closed and opened, forming a tight clenching fist. "You threaten me with war? I think there's something wrong with your brain Cryax - in that's it's missing." Finally the slugthrower was holstered leaving just hands that crush solid stone in between him and the Red Raven's executive decision maker. "Mandalorian's feed on war, and this 'empire' you've lucked into won't last a day's span in attempting anything against the Mando'ade." Arms crossed across his chest while he watched the motions and movements of the Chiss. Azrael was well aware of the alarms, and that security would be inbound soon enough. Most of his HUD was dedicated to sweeping the signals that were flying around and estimating time frames for support.

"I didn't come here for that though - I came here to get this gutless coward before me to apologize. I'm honestly surprised you haven't even offered that up to me, but it's not me that you hurt. One way or another Bane, you're going to come clean to Anastasia." Another measured step forward, before he gripped the boy's arm within his bionic grip and lifted him up over the side of the building. "Either by apology or eulogy. Your choice shabuir." The recording on his helmet clicked on anonymously. If he chose the latter, he'd get the confession on record at least.

[member="Cryax Bane"]

 

[Cryax Bane]

The Mand’alor’s boot hit him like a freighter crash-landing on his chest, and Cryax was knocked on his tailbone with a loud thunk. His face twisted into a grimace, he slowly raised himself to his feet and then made a show of slowly dusting off his expensive suit. If there was one thing about Cryax that was true, it was the fact that the young Chiss was a stubborn bastard. Plus, now that he was the figurehead of the Red Ravens, he had appearances to keep up along with a big, shiny chip on his shoulder. The man he once was when he he’d first met Anastasia Rade, then just a client of his, and one that he honestly fell for for better or worse, was all but a shadow of the Chiss who now stood before her brother. Torture could change a man. As could the gift of too much power, too soon, and at too young an age. As Cryax had experienced both in the last few months, a walking, hubris-filled monster had been created without much fanfare. Therefore an apology wasn’t yet on the table for the young crime boss.

Once the Chiss was back on his feet, his eyes carefully watching the Mand’alor’s slugthrower, he let out a sardonic laugh. “I find it incredibly ironic that now the Mandos care about lil’ ol’ Cryax Bane. When I was with your sister your people didn’t seem to think too highly of me. You know her other brother refused to meet with me, right? Seriously though, you Moactan Teel are all alike. Pretending to be so accepting of those of us with a different color of skin, but in reality, I just wasn’t fair-haired enough for your little princess." He waved his hand dismissively. "I supposed it doesn't matter to you that I truly cared about her and still do. Put that in your hookah pipe and smoke it.”

Down on the street, a few blocks away, a small army of Red Raven security forces could be seen, droids, henchmen and goons, alike, sweeping the streets for any immediate threats to the casino or its missing executive. Cryax’s Datapad started pinging wildly from his jacket pocket, but he made no move to retrieve it. It seemed that some Ravens had noticed that Bane wasn’t in the immediate vicinity of the casino, and alarms were raised. His eyes blinked to the street and then back to Azrael. Cryax just needed to keep talking. Thankfully, that wasn’t a problem for the sarcastic Chiss.

He put a blue-skinned hand on his chest. “I’m not threatening you with war, Azrael, but this stunt of yours might start one whether you like it or not. What I really want to know is since when were the Mandalorian people so thin-skinned? That a simple perceived insult could risk starting so much bloodshed? Don’t you have better things to do than chase down one little Chiss, eh, Azrael or do you just have beksar in your head?”

Cryax had more to say on that subject, but found himself unable to finish those thoughts, for all of a sudden he was being dangled over the side of the building, held in the Mandalorian’s vice-like grip. His adrenaline spiked as his legs scrambled to get a grip on the building’s exterior. Azrael might not have guessed, but the tech-head Chiss knew the familiar click of a Holocam when he heard it, and knowing he was being filmed fueled a fresh round of rage in the crime boss.

“Before I even think about apologizing, put me back up there,” he gestured to the rooftop with his head. “And for the Maker’s sake, turn off that karking Holocam before I use it to tell everyone was a great night we had last night. You sure were fun, Az. It's too bad I couldn't sleep because you stole all the covers."

[member="Azrael"]

 

[Azrael]

Why was Cryax alive at the moment - when the alternative would have been so easy? Mostly it was a point of saving face, and not just ruthlessly murdering people who had not yet answered for their crimes. Granted Azrael wanted to wring the neck of this mouthy Chiss that was berating his attempts at acting the part of the big brother, yet he knew that just snapping Bane's neck like a twig wasn't going to give Anastasia any closer. The woman was still just learning what it meant to be a Mandalorian, and he was doing what he could to help her in between his duties and responsibilities, but her heart was still so big. He'd originally thought that the slave pits would have taken that special quality away from her, and yet she loved more fiercely than he saw some Mandalorians hold to their honor. How this pathetic excuse dangling over the edge of the roof had won that affection it was hard to say, Azrael certainly didn't see it. Especially considering the mouth the Chiss seemed to favor - whether that was a defense mechanism or not, it wasn't doing the Chiss any favors with the Mand'alor.

Azrael's bionic arm kept a rigid grip on the boy as he tried to both question the Mandalorian's approach to this situation, while also insulting him at the same time. If he could of given the boy a shovel, it was likely Bane would dig his own grave and then some by the way he was mouthing off. What he got in return though was a black crimson stare that obscured the Chiss' ability to gauge the reaction of how his words might affect the half-breed. Thin-skinned, besk'ar in the head, all these phrases and more pouring out of Bane's lips while he was in a position that would make most either clam up or act in a far more respectful and pleading manner. The fact that Azrael had stopped talking though should have been far more reason for concern, as it meant that Bane could no longer reason with the man, and was instead met with an unfeeling set of armor. Even as the insults flung, they seemed to do nothing to penetrate the shell hiding the man. At least during the banter there could be something of an understanding of how far he was pushing him, and now there was nothing.

Wind blew across the rooftop, flapping the garments and hair of the Red Raven's president in the passing breeze as the sounds of the city echoed all around. Various security personnel were scattered around, and several droids were now coming within range to see what was going on up above the streets of Antecedent, and yet nothing seemed to be effectively averting that cold and emotionless visor stare on the Chiss, literally held from death by the same man that had no patience for a coward. When a man was faced with his own mortality, any number of things could happen to him, and Azrael had experienced this several times in his life, on both ends of the spectrum. As Bane demanded he be put back onto the roof before he could even consider the idea of an apology, a smirk touched Azrael's hidden face, and his bionic arm dropped slightly and suddenly stopping again to keep him from impending peril below.

"Careful hut'uun, my arm's getting tired." The response that broke silence, though it wasn't said in a tone of jest, but in a manner so dead-pan that it was obvious patience had worn out it's welcome and had been quickly and silently evicted. Caring about his safety was becoming less and less of a precedent, no matter if the actions he took brought a little noise to the Mandalorian border. He knew his vode wouldn't bother even balking at the reason for hostility, they'd simply open fire on any from the Red Ravens that dare cross that line with them. Despite this being personal business, war was never far away from the culture, and he wasn't about to shy away from it, if it meant justice for his sister. Once the Chiss caught onto the holo-cam that activated on his helmet and threatened to try the slander approach, Azrael twisted his metal grip, spraining Bane's wrist with the force. "Oh this isn't broadcasting anywhere di'kut - I just wanted the backup so I could watch you do this..." All at once his hand released the grip, and let the Chiss fall from his grasp, over the side of the building to tumble like a lead weight straight down towards the pavement several meters below. "..over and over again."

Unfortunately the duracrete pavement of the Antecedent sidewalk wasn't going to gain the permanent impression of the Red Raven's president tonight. That honor would have to come later, as the stealth Ca'prudii intercepted the cowardly Chiss in a sweeping movement that while it would likely bruise his ribs and ego a bit, wouldn't kill him. The ship rose up swiftly, keeping Cryax pinned against the exterior before he was quickly clipped up by the jet-packing Mandalorian who shot into the bridge as the ramp dropped and tossed Bane immediately to the holding cell before the craft jetted out of sight and into the night sky. The entire time Bane had been blabbering on, Azrael had been setting up that little escape plan to kidnap the president of the Red Ravens.

[member="Cryax Bane"]

 

[Cryax Bane]

As Azrael toyed with Bane like a cat with a mouse, dangling him several hundred stories above the pavement, loosening his grip on the Chiss and then grabbing him again before he could free-fall to street below which was now jam-packed with Red Raven security personel, henchmen, and Zeeo droids. The crime boss couldn't hide the panic in his eyes when he did it, but Cryax didn't say another word. Although it was tough for the snarky Chiss, he thought it wise to finally keep his mouth shut for once. Especially since his last crack about the Holocam earned him a pain in his wrist that was so sharp he momentarily saw stars. Cryax couldn't translate Azrael's Mando'a but figured that none of the words he spat out were flattering, and finally, the other man, had gotten exasperated enough with the Chiss to let him fall. Well, this is it, thought Cryax as he braced himself for the end.

Or not. Just like that, the Chiss was swept up into a ship, and before he even knew which way was up he was dumped in a cell. His wrist was swollen and when he breathed in too deeply he felt a sharp stab of pain in his ribs, but he was alive, and not laying on the pavement with his grey matter splattered everywhere. Bane took his Datapad out of his pocket and began typing a message to [member="Logan of Little Coruscant"], the Vice-President of the Ravens to let him know that he'd been nabbed by the karking Mandos. Yet his finger hovered indecisively over the "send" button. Frankly, he was embarrassed by his stupidity, and self-conscious about his image within the organization. Rising up in the ranks from geeky slicer to crime lord was not the smoothest trajectory for the Chiss, and he knew there were a few vocal naysayers in the Ravens who would love nothing better than tear him down from his golden pedestal. No, it wouldn't do to let the Ravens know their President had let himself be captured that easily, and with that in mind, he deleted the message.

Cryax sighed and took a seat in the cell, hunched over, hanging his head between his knees, the four walls of a prison becoming a woefully familiar place. How did he end up in situations like this time after time? Was it the foolishness of youth? Prideful oversight? A death wish he'd been harboring since his torture in a Kessel death camp? Cryax wasn't sure, but he supposed that the same assets that allowed him to rise above in the ranks in the Red Ravens, all the way from slicer to Secretary to President were the very same skills that cursed him time and time again.

[member="Azrael"]

 

[Azrael]

Of the notable traits of the Mand'alor, the idea of humor was not on the short list. Few had seen his ability to be comic relief, but most of the vode, and even those not of the Mandalorians knew him for a very different side to the half-breed's personality. Azrael dealt in affairs of business far more than he dipped into the acts of pleasure or comfort. He'd been working from a very tender age in a system that was built on the sweat of labor and the hard and long days of enduring back breaking service to the scrap yards. It was hard to pull away from that - even harder when he became a Mandalorian. Their constant thirst for war, combat, strife and glory was not unlike how hard he had to keep pace on Ord Mantell. Though it was certainly more enjoyable to his spirit once he had adopted the Reson'nare as his guiding star. The fact that Bane had tried to dismantle his attack with humor seemed to be falling on deaf ears - only proven by the fact that he could have let him die, and would have slept that night, and slept well. The only saving grace for the Chiss was that while Azrael was a man of war, he was also a man of compassion, and if that wasn't directed to Cryax directly, the benefit of his brief tryst with Anastasia had saved his life again. In retrospect, if he had simply picked another woman to woo - he wouldn't have been in this spot of trouble at all.

The Night Shadow had taken wing, lofting through Antecedent like a streak of dismal black and crimson red, shooting passed fortifications and dipping into the obscurity of night and space. Ebony hues washed over the craft mirroring it's own surface area as pin pricks of light littered the enveloping shadow of space. The cockpit was overtaken in a few moments, plotting a course and trajectory that would take the pair through the nearby pocket of space, and into a familiar hyperlane that would jet set them across the Galaxy. He knew it wouldn't be long until the knowledge of Bane's capture was made known, but that wasn't exactly a great concern weighing on the Mandalorian. His thoughts were more on retribution, and figuring out what to do with the Chiss once he had made him come clean in front of his sister. Were it anyone else of the vode, he knew what would happen immediately. Bane would not last through half the confession before he'd the business end of a besked would part his hair, and the rest of his flesh in a clean swipe of vengeance. Ana however was a different woman altogether, and while she was trying to become a better Mandalorian, her heart was bigger and more open than most.

"Now if you even have a heart, or a conscious that can override your cowardice, you might want to think on what you'll be saying to Anastasia. Be warned though, we have ways of making people give up the truth - and none of them are exactly pleasant." The Sith could torture, and they were quite good at it, but the Mandalorians could interrogate, and even with unwilling subjects, many of the vode had unique traits to see into the mind's eye and pull out information. Either way they would get their answer, it just depended on when and how when it came down to those that they were interrogating. Azrael only gave the warning to the Chiss to give him something to do with the time it would take to cross through the Galaxies hyperlanes and end up on Mandalore to be brought before the vode, and see justice done. In part, Azrael was not expecting the Chiss to make it off Mandalore after confessing to his cowardly ways.

[member="Cryax Bane"]

 

[Cryax Bane]

Hunched over on the bench in his cell, Cryax slowly raised his head at Azrael, meeting his gaze without fear. Red alien eyes glimmered like tiny fires in his skull, filled with pure, unadulterated rage. He ignored all of Azrael's advice about reflecting on what he was going to say to Ana. The Chiss crime boss definitely had some words he wanted to say alright, but none of them about his apology. It took a miraculous amount of restraint on Cryax’s part to keep his voice level and to mute his mocking tone, but he managed to somehow. “The biggest question here Azrael, the one that’s begging to be asked, is how are you able to justify assault, attempted murder, and kidnapping all because of a few hurt feelings? Here Cryax furrowed his brow incredulously and spread his hands in front of him. “Now if I were tried and found guilty of some grievous galactic crime, then by all means drag me away, but I didn't do anything that's worth all of this trouble."

Cryax put a blue-skinned hand on his chest and smirked, the snark finally returning like an old, comforting friend. "An outsider looking in would have a hard time guessing which one of us is the crime boss in this situation, as the last time I checked, you're the one committing the felonies. Don't you think that's ironic, Azreal?" Then the Chiss cleared his throat and leveled out his tone again. "Look, I know you are a reasonable man. And you know I am also a reasonable man, even though you pretend I'm not. Why don't you let me out of this cell, and we'll have a drink and just talk this out like civilized humans and near-humans, eh?" He ran his fingers through his blue-black hair and gave the Mand'alor a weak but conciliatory smile, looking much more like the version of the Chiss Azrael had previously encountered on Mandalore. It could have been an act, or perhaps Cryax really did want to knock some shots back with a man who had just tried to drop him off the side of a building. Sometimes the young Chiss wasn't even aware of his own motivations, only that they felt right at the time.

[member="Azrael"]

 

[Azrael]

Crisp clear clips disengaged the seal on the buy'ce before it was lifted from his face and slid to the side of his waist, clipping in place. The slight crimson sheen on tanned skin greeted the air with a visage of stern and stoic resolve while he stood feet away from the one man cell, guarded by an energy barrier to keep any attempts of escape or sabotage at bay. Arms crossed over his chest a moment later while Bane's scarlet hued eyes met the grey irises of Azrael's impassive stare. The bravado and near jubilant attitude that Cryax had witnessed on Mandalore when Anastasia had introduced the two to each other was gone, long replaced by an exterior expression devoid of compassion or mercy, but not written in anger. He carried a great weight on his shoulders, as he suspected the Chiss before him attempted to. Both of them were the respective heads of the faction they represented, and while that bought a measure of respect from the Mand'alor, it did nothing to atone for the crimes he committed against his sister, even if Bane himself didn't see his cowardice as anything more than a personal grievance.

"Aruetiise do not concern me with their views of the Mando'ade. We have never attempted to live up to or down any reputation than that of the vode. Though since you can't seem to grasp the concept of keeping a reputation with a woman you had claimed to love, I don't expect you to understand that." The half-blood retorted with a bite of venom in his voice shifting from one foot to the other. It was an insult, and Azrael didn't sugar coat anything he was saying to Bane, as he didn't deserve the courtesy in his eyes of anything but the treatment any Mandalorian would give a coward. Either on the battlefield or in regular life, a coward was the worst insult you could ever give a Mandalorian, and consequently, it was the worst insult they could brand on an outsider who wasn't a war criminal. "You seem to have the notion that this is somehow about you though. It's not. You're not that important to me Bane, even if you were still in the good graces of my sister." He shook his head offering physical gesture to the concept. "No, this is about her, it always has been about Ana'ika. She took a chance on love, let her heart feel something for the first time in many many years, and you stomped that flat." He paused a moment, containing his composure at the idiotic notion that he'd let Bane out to drink with him. He wasn't going to give the man that honor.

"As far law is concerned, the Ravens are a criminal enterprise trying to stake their claim on a market that I could really care less about. All this talk of trials, felonies, and grievous galactic crime is the only irony I see here." A small smirk of humor touched his face for a moment before it vanished. "You're as lawless as they come Bane, so don't pretend to preach to me that you're some kind of man of honor in a den of thieves. The Mandalorians may be known for taking what they want and damning the consequences, but at least we have honor, and we face our problems head on. We don't run from them like a pathetic coward terrified to own up our own insecurities in order to save face." Turning his profile towards the cell, another shake of his head in abject disappointment at the Chiss. "Sit there and stew little man, and maybe if you're as smart as you claim, you'll live to see tomorrow, but I wouldn't hold my breath." Azrael clipped his footfalls towards the pilot seat and settled in, intending to ignore his prisoner for the time being until they would reach Mandalorian space and come in for a landing.

[member="Cryax Bane"]

 

[Cryax Bane]

Prideful. So prideful, thought Cryax. He'd always heard it said that the Mandalorians were a vainglorious people, but he never knew just how easily their collective ego could be chaffed. Since the modicum of diplomacy that the Chiss had attempted failed miserably with Azrael, he transformed back into his old agitated, sarcastic self with an ever-present axe to grind.

Cryax rolled his eyes. "Please, Azrael. If you cared at all about Ana, you wouldn't open up old wounds by making her see me again, that's for sure. Don't you think when she sees my pretty face, it's going to break her heart all over again? This is not about me, or her. This is about you. You and your self-gratification and your conceit. There is an old Chiss saying that goes something like, 'Btuzah cavrcah ch'an'ucw ch'aah vin'bati, k'ir veo bsetah vat.' It means, 'Blowing out another's candle, makes yours shine brighter.'"

"And Lawless?" he tutted, standing up so that he could face the other man head on. "Without a trial, you have no proof I've personally done anything wrong. Girls gossip, Azrael. Not men. Didn't know that tabloid rags were your thing. You know you shouldn't trust everything you read in those things, right?"

As Azrael turned on his heels and walked away, promptly ignoring him, Cryax simply muttered "kark," and once again took a seat. The crime boss could have called in fleets to mobilize and give chase the Manda'lor's spaceship, but unlike the Mandalorians, Cryax didn't want to waste resources on a personal affair. Or so he rationalized. Truthfully, embarrassment was the more powerful motivator for inaction. With that in mind, Cryax flopped over on his bench and lay still, eyes closed, arms draped across his face. In that position he would stay until they reached Mandalore.

[member="Azrael"]

 

[Azrael]

No reaction from the cockpit. Oh he had heard Bane, and the thought of what it would do to Anastasia to see Bane again had been a factor in his decision to come to retrieve the Chiss from Antecedent. While on one hand it might open old wounds, on the other (as he had instructed his prisoner) the Mandalorians faced their problems, they did not run from them. Anastasia may not enjoy the meeting, and he wouldn't blame her, but closure would help heal the wound rather than the unknown that lingered in the air everytime she felt a twinge of memory of the boy. Despite their tryst being shorter than a Dug and just as forgettable, it had proved to be a sore spot for his sister. Azrael might have even cared about Cryax's thoughts on the matter and his feelings about his sister if he hadn't been such a damnable coward. That however had removed all sympathy for the boy, and reverted Azrael to treat him like a prisoner of war. Still, he wasn't dead, and that was at least something when you were dealing with Mand'alor and his personally adopted family.

He hadn't alerted the other Mando'ade to this coward though - or even those he was especially close to. Mainly because it was something he didn't need backup on, and he really wasn't going to compete with most of the vode who'd rather come and kill him just for the sport of it. If Cryax thought Azrael dishonorable for doing this for what seemed like a minor offense, he really would he hard pressed to find any comfort or solace with those who hadn't met him before and were only acquainted with the blonde he spurned. Digits gripped the yoke as the spit out of lightspeed hyperlane tunnels and blinked into the visible space surrounding Mand'yaim. The shuttle cut across the sky, shifting into a course pattern that would direct the Night Shadow through the Protector's channels and use his own entrance into the planet and towards the Capital city. This was going to be a meeting in which was to be private - unless he needed it to go otherwise.

:: Mand'alor to Keldabe. Secure prisoner transport and hail [member="Anastasia Rade"] on my arrival. :: The message sent silently through his helmet to the ground party as they broke the atmosphere and began their decent. Cloud cover split to reveal the dusty but rather urbanized setting of a rural outpost twenty clicks from their position, but over a mile and a half down. The large towering durasteel structure in the distance was the mighty MandalMotors and great hall, and all around the city were dozens of factories and shipyards spread out around homes and villages. A blend of the old and the new, as they drew closer and the specs on the ground began to be seen as men and women going about their daily business and life while the shipyard hangar welcomed them into it's massive embrace. Once the shuttle landed and the exhaust ports spit out their clouds of steam, the armored Mandalorian half-blood stepped from the control to slide the E'tad Kal back into the sheathe at his back and deactivate the forcefield to pull Bane out and walk him down while his arms remained cuffed behind his back.

"Keep your mouth shut and your eyes forward. I doubt you'll be here long enough to get your bearings." Azrael commanded pushing him forward but keeping a firm grip of his right hand on the man's shoulder as he strode forward towards the turbo-lift that would take them down to the surface.

[member="Cryax Bane"]

 

[Cryax Bane]

Cryax was roused from a nap by the hiss of the forcefield lowering, releasing him from his cell. Then, the Chiss crime boss was man-handled out into the ship’s corridor and cuffed by the Manda’lor. “Vizehn k'tavr k'on'becsoi,” he hissed in Cheuhn, his red eyes gleaming with hatred for his Beskar-armored captor.

As Cryax was shoved forward, he made no attempt to resist, but simply walked along as he was bade, biting his tongue, no small feat for the Chiss. The sooner he could get this charade over with the sooner he could go home and eat fodu noodles with his boyfriend. Did Azrael not care that this was merely a disingenuous act forced upon an unwilling participant? If he were Anastasia he’d be insulted that his apology was one that he was coerced into. As they took the turbolift down from the hangar, Cryax walked with a pained gait, his ribcage hurting like the devil from Azrael’s kick, and every now and then he had to stop to catch his breath when his chest cried out in pain. He probably needed medical attention but he was going to be damned if he asked for any favors from the Manda'lor.

The walk gave Cryax ample to seethe inwardly at what he felt was the blatant hypocrisy of the Mandalorians, a people who saw themselves as a stalwart warrior culture with arms wide open to those they considered family. Cryax had a different experience with them. He found that if that family happened to have blue skin color and red eyes, their arms weren’t so welcoming.

As far as he was concerned, the Manda’lor had thrown down the karking gauntlet and this would not be over. One did not kidnap and humiliate an Outer Rim crime boss without some retribution. A smile played upon his lips at the amusing ways he would someday enact revenge on Azrael. Cover him in raw meat and throw him into a den of Rancors, lock him in a mind palace until his body withered and died, or fling him into a Sarlacc pit. Someday, Cryax would make the man pay. Not only Azrael himself, but also his family he held so tightly in his arms.

[member="Azrael"]

 

[Anastasia Rade]

All her life Ana had been treated as nothing more than a rag doll to be used and abused. [member="Cryax Bane"] showed her that even though she had been rescued that nothing had changed. She wasn't worthy of being loved or even the decency of being told it wasn't working in an appropriate way. The young woman had been though much in her life but this broke her in a way she couldn't describe.

Ana was strong though and wouldn't allow anyone to see her cry. She saved those for her pillow after all it was her that was stupid enough to think that someone could love her. The young mandalorian couldn't help but be embarrassed that she had been stupid enough to open herself up to love. She had wasted [member="Azrael"] time by introducing him to Cyrax. At the end of the day he had never cared about her in the first place.

She vowed to stick with the family she had and be happy with that. If she was really that lonely she could get herself a pet kitty or something. Taking a chance on that stupid little thing called love certainly hasn't been worth her time. It once served to set her progress back.

The way things had been left made her wonder what she had done wrong. There were parts of her which wished to go and ask but it wasn't worth it. How could she expect a straight answer from him? Sighing she twirled the glass in her hand before taking another swig. "Ana, the Mand'alor is requesting your presence."

Normally that could mean a slew of things but knowing Az he was probably just concerned about her. She might not have told him what occurred but there was always the rumor mill.

Downing the rest of her drink Ana threw a few coins on the table as she left to meet Azrael.

 

[Azrael]

Originally the half-blood had thought that speaking with the Chiss about his actions would have proven sufficient to sway the cowardly red eyed slicer into cooperation and owning up to what he had done in order to save face. Ideally there was the hope that Bane had some sense of common decency in him that would have reared its head when faced with the brevity of the situation - unfortunately that approach had failed to yield those results. The tactic of fear had come to mind shortly after, in the attempt to shock Cryax into submission and leave the man pleading for mercy, or begging to set things right in order to spare his own life. Even worse was that result, as Bane had proven to be even less concerned about his own life and had begun to berate the Mand'alor with accusations of anything his mind could work up while he was thrown about on the roof of one of Antecedant's highrises. It went to show Azrael that the face he saw was rarely as telling as the mind and personality behind it. Though, in the end the Chiss wasn't able to talk his way out of his current situation, and now being on Mandalore and in the capture of the Mandalorians - he would be hard pressed to weasel his way from this stronghold with only his tongue at the ready.

Streams of horizontal light spilled through the turbolift while Azrael stood behind the Chiss, his helmet on and his stoic resolve as unflinching as his besk'ar was tough. He understood well what kidnapping this man meant, and despite the knowledge of his position as the president of the Red Ravens, this was not a political move. They'd likely try to come for him, but unless the Chiss could get a message out to his organization, it'd be a little while before the Ravens would come knocking at their door and looking for their leader. Honestly it was a worthless attempt on their part should they come to the Mandalorians about anything. If Mand'alor captured someone, the Mando'ade were not going to blink twice about supporting that decision. Still, the intention of Azrael was not to form a war out of this movement, it was simply to settle a debt that could not be weighed in credits. Several levels below ground, the lift finally slowed and the doors hissed open to empty into a long corridor where some of the more advanced prison facilities were hidden. These cells were designed for the non force adepts that they would run into, allowing easy storage of the few prisoners they found worth enough to keep alive, for now.

Minutes later the thin field of energy encasing an empty cell was deactivated and Azrael gave a firm shove to the shoulder of Bane to push him into the duracrete alcove layered in durasteel for strength and signal blocking. They were stories underground, and unless there was a transceiver of Bane's working outside of the cell that would relay to the top, even his systems were not going to penetrate this cell. A glance was given to two Mandalorian guards, who simply crossed their arm over their chest, giving a rap on their armored breastplate, given acknowledgement of his silent instructions. Turning back to face Bane in the cell, his eyes narrowed at the blue skinned coward on the other side of the energy field.

"My use for you notwithstanding, should you try anything against your time here on Mandalore, and you'll be a forgotten line of text in the story of the Red Ravens." Azrael promised the president before turning from the cell and moving to the right to exit the corridor and enter a main hall that would lead him directly to the waiting vision of a pink armored Mandalorian whom he'd sent for prior to landing his shuttle. Each hand rose to grasp his helmet and slide it from his head, clipping it to his belt as a smile graced his slightly crimson features. Boot clips echoed on the duracrete floor in what was one of the war rooms the Mandalorians normally used for plans of conquest and invasion. A large round table rested in the center of the room, and above a holo display of several screens that were currently shut off for the time being. The room was devoid of life save for the two of them, and Azrael was going to ensure that it stayed that way until he was ready to bring in Bane.

"Su cuy'gar Ana'ika." Azrael said in a voice that was familiar, kind and compassionate while he crossed the room to embrace his blonde haired sister. Wrapping both arms around her and hugging her tight with a firm and hardy grip. A small kiss to her cheek was offered as they parted their arms. "It's good to see you again, I hear you've been having some glorious adventures as of late." The compliment was mixed in with the acceptance that she was forging her own path, and not waiting on others to find one for her. He appreciated her zeal and determination to continue to explore and find what the Galaxy had to offer, be it bad or good. "I've arranged something to help you though - something that will allow you the chance to exercise the Mandalorian's legacy. We are a people that face our demons Anastasia, and we do battle with them head on. I have captured that cowardly Chiss and brought him here today so that you may confront the doubt he left you with. Though, I will not force you to do this, I do believe you need this to put him and that part of your past from your mind."

Azrael left it at that, and was true to his word. Should Anastasia refuse the offer of confronting Bane at this time, he'd deal with the situation at hand, but he hoped she'd be bold and brave enough to work through it face to face. The Mandalorians did not back down, and their strength was in their undying resolve. Azrael had cut off his own arm to survive, rather than let fate determine his death. He knew that Anastasia had been through much worse, and had weathered those storms. He wanted to see her work through this as well. This wasn't about his own pride or anything that Bane had referenced, this was in an attempt to help and give closure to his sister in the wake of what had depressed her fiercely. He knew the betrayal of a love, he'd experienced it years prior - and he hated to see her try and go that alone without being able to confront it like he had.

[member="Anastasia Rade"] | [member="Cryax Bane"]

 

[Cryax Bane]

As Cryax was marched down into another building, he had conjured up about two-hundred and seven different unique ways for the Manda'lor to die. His favorite by far was the Embrace of Pain, an organic Yuuzhan Vong abomination that held its victim upside-down in tentacle-like restraints and mercilessly tortured him, bringing its hapless captive to the brink of death, then reviving him, only to begin the torment anew. He had heard of a Mistress on Syvris that had one in her parlour, and filed this person away as someone he needed to Holocall when he got back to Antecedent. If he got back to Antecedent. It was not unlikely that after he had been made to grovel in front of Anastasia Rade, he would simply be put down like a rabid Akk dog.

By the time he was brought to his cell, Bane was in a slightly better mood. The energy field zipped down behind him, as Cryax was pushed into another cell with another bruising shove with a crushgaunt. Rolling his gleaming red eyes, Cryax turned to face the Manda'lor once again, his chin raised in indignation and his arms defiantly crossed over his chest. Then with a death glare in his eyes Azrael addressed him once again.

"My use for you notwithstanding, should you try anything against your time here on Mandalore, and you'll be a forgotten line of text in the story of the Red Ravens."

A smirk crossed the face of the Chiss. "Poetic, Azrael. Truly moving," Cryax put his hand on his chest mock-dramatically and added. "I don't think I'll ever be the same." The Chiss began laugh at his own quip until his ribs hurt, which was quite alot as they were probably broken, and he continued to laugh even as he watched the man turn heel and walk away.

[member="Azrael"] [member="Anastasia Rade"]

 

[Anastasia Rade]

She would rather speak with her brother on those glorious adventures instead of about her love life. Ana had tried to find love but the whole thing had backfired. At this point she was alright with being alone especially if it meant less of a chance of her getting her heart ripped out again.

It was always good to see her brother regardless of the circumstances. Ana didn't get enough time with him and she cherished any and all time that she did get. Time she didn't want to spend talking about some stupid boy.

After returning his embrace Ana listened as he spoke. She wanted to say something back however at the moment found herself lost for words. The last thing that she ever expected was to see the Chiss that broke her heart again. There was so much that had been left unspoken and so much unknown. Ana didn't know what to say. She was both shocked and touched that Azrael had done this for her.

"It's been nice to get out there and see the galaxy," she began with a light smile. "I'll see him and listen to what he has to say. It's high time I close that chapter on my life. I can't promise I won't punch him." She almost grinned. "Where are you hiding him?"

Ana took a deep breath as she waited. The young woman had been through much in her life but this was hard. It was kind of like if she saw one of her old masters again. She had nothing to say to him but facing him would more than likely be a very good thing for her. She just needed to keep her wits about her and not let him see her sweat. She was in charge of this situation.


[member="Azrael"] [member="Cryax Bane"]

 

[Azrael]

When he'd first laid eyes on her it was behind the tint of a crimson visor, as his automated HUD had detailed several things about the woman; including her height, weight, species, and any injuries that were still existing from the torture she went through as a slave of the Graug. At the time she was a prisoner, and a calculated risk to rescue from the pit as he slaughtered the Sith-spawn scum, getting both herself and her brother out of the fray and onto the ships of the Mandalorian fleet as they laid waste to the Sith's Order on Mytus. At the time Anastasia was just another person in the Galaxy, but she'd shown so much heart and a zeal and thirst for adventure, it hadn't taken long for the half-blood to understand how important she had become in his life. With all the death and destruction that he'd lived through on Ord Mantell, and then had to endure as a soldier of the Manda, having family was of great importance. They grey unhindered gaze that now fell on the blonde saw her in a completely different light. This was his sister, a trusted and worthy vod wearing armor that befit her prowess and rank. She was moving up in the Mando'ade, and everyone was taking notice at the striking blonde with a heart filled with compassion. It was this very heart that was both a great strength, and a weakness. Azrael was capable of love, and he loved his sister dearly - but he was far less compassionate than she was, and he admired that about her.

It was unfortunate that the meeting of the two had to be under these circumstances. It wasn't the first time however that Azrael and Anastasia had a bit of reunion due to the presence of the blue skinned slicer. The terms and emotions had been vastly different last time, but he was still a part of the picture - at least for now. He wouldn't have made it to Mandalore if Azrael didn't feel the Chiss owed his sister an explanation and an apology. The only thing the salvager really wanted to see was the funeral procession that would be brief and forgettable for causing his sister any grief. Bane thought Azrael was over-reacting and reaching much further than he should have for what amounted to an imagined slight in his cold red eyes. This was likely because Bane, like most aruetiise, did not understand the kinship of the Mando'ade and likely wouldn't ever come to grasp that kind of bond - even if he lived passed today.

"Well I hope you do more than punch him Ana'ika. I wouldn't be offended if this was his last hour - he's a hut'uun and not worthy of you." Azrael admonished with a smile gracing his face. The word coward was the worst possible insult in Mando'a, and Anastasia knew that well. Speaking that word of any Mandalorian would likely end in a bloody death match between the accuser and the accused if they didn't outright shoot you first. Saying it about anyone else was just as much of an insult in their collective mindset. "I have in holding, but I'll bring him in." Azrael stated looking towards the door and giving a nod towards the guards. He paused for a moment, and shifted his gaze back to Anastasia. "He'll use his words to try and save his sorry skin. He tried the same with me - but I'll be right here." Assuring her that he wasn't going to leave the two of them alone and let Bane try something inevitable. Once he gave that nod, Azrael stepped out of the war room and headed directly for the prison cell, having the guard deactivate the cell energy barrier to retrieve the Chiss.

"Time to face the music aruetii." A simple indication that it was time to go see Anastasia, Azrael's bionic arm came to grasp the scuff of the man's collar and push him in front, to keep pace down the corridor and around the corner to the war room. Anastasia was the only one left in that room, and the twin guards that flanked the doors simply hit the release button on the chamber door as it slid open to reveal the silhouette of the pink armor she wore as light bathed the cool blue metallic structure of the underground prison. Keeping his arm between himself and the Chiss, and pushing him forward until he'd enter the room and the door would shut behind them. Immediately Azrael popped his right leg out to undercut Bane's legs, hitting at the knee joint to instinctively make the boy kneel down before Anastasia.

[member="Anastasia Rade"] | [member="Cryax Bane"]