The Widow
Calico was...admittedly, tired. He'd spent the past few days talking, talking, and surprisingly, more talking. He sat in the center of the small discussion room aboard the Life Ship, in full armor, save for his kama. The Chieftain gave a short nod toward Ori'alor. "Evening ner'vod." He grunted, leaning back in his chair, arms folded over his chest. The central holoterminal beeped, a message, perhaps?
Sitting beside Calico was a man who had come to be a confidante and friend, who had pledged himself to the cause for their kindness towards them. Former Grandmaster Josh DragonsFlame's arms were folded as he calmly watched, not speaking yet...
On the otherside of Calico was Galaar, clad in shiny, polished Katarn with new blue trim. He stood with his arms crossed and in full armor, head turning toward the holoterimal, his strill making a deep gruff.
Krest found himself in the same room. In truth he did not have his own ship yet, but it was certianly something he was looking forward to obtaining. He was sitting at a nearby consol, feet propped up on the dashbord. At this point in time the Zabrak was.. Lazy. His hands where behind his head in a cutomary fasion expected of him.
Standing to Calico's left side, Zius had his hands crossed behind his back. His lightsaber presenting itself on his hip as he shifted his shoulders, the durasteel plating clanking a bit with anticipation. The blue neon glow of his visor illuminating the detailed features of his helmet. His cloak clung to his backside like a drape of shadows as he awaited whatever was to come. Keeping silent for now.
Danger 's holographic emitter would show the cerulean blue and slightly statically image of one very familiar face well known up and down the Mara Lane; Danger Arceneau, President of Arceneau Trade Company and reigning queen of Tatooine, spitfire and all.
Oh ain’t in a literal sense, but folks in the Southern Systems knew just where their side was buttered when it came to riling up that dunesea rose. With trade ports in more than half of the known Galaxy, Arceneau made a name for herself in terms of trade goods, fuel, and freighter service. Dealings with the Southern Systems Trade Bazaar only made that titan maned female all the more popular; although some might say it be her finer assets that done did this job.
With Arceneau Trade Expanding from the Fringes of the Lords towards the Mandalorian Space, jobs were opening up within the company for folk wanting to gain a credit or two under the umbrella that is ATC. While Danger was keen on making a profit, she didn’t do wrong with her employees, and working with her meant some perks most were keen on taking advantage of.
None the less, word had it that a group looking to find work might be interested, and Alisha’ven’s urging and recommendation slated a timeslot for her to make contact.
Smoke blew out from the corner of her mouth just as her lips twisted into a coy welcoming smile, “My my my, what a mighty fine pleasure.”
The clone started at the figure who appeared on the holo-teriminal, glad the Katarn helmet hid his expressions because the one across his face was similar to the one he had when sent to die metaphorically at the hands of Alli Wren, CEO of Baktoid. "Su cuy'gar."
Krest sat up rather quickly, looking over. Yeah, he knew about her. During his time in the CIS he was named Warden of Tatooine, of course he'd know the 'Queen' of Tatooine. He moved over beside the group, tilting his head. "Odd, so this is the first time I've had to talk to you. Right when I'm removed from protecting Tatooine."
Zius merely stared with little expression at the said holo-terminal. His stance shifted gingerly as she spoke with a seemingly flattering tone of voice; however, the libido wasn't present. Listening to all the others speak was peculiar yet interesting. It would aid him to understand this stranger and what business she meant. "Maintain focus here, gentlemen." His tone was apathetic and cold, likely to be unmoved or phased by anyone else.
Danger ‘s lips quirked at the corner of her mouth, Well, the traditional greeting of Mand’a certainly pegged them some kind of Mandalorian. Leastwise some that were keen ‘nuff to take to the language. Course, just about every bounty hunter up and down the Mara had some sort of connection to their kind. Not surprising at all.
‘Course that’s when one spoke; mentioning being removed and Tatooine of all things. Her eyes narrowed. Now this was an interesting pickle. Now she knew who exactly she was dealing with, if rumors be true.
"Give me a moment lads, I'm charmed." It was clear that the eldest soldier was grinning under his helmet. He'd heard the stories of Tatooine's corporate ruler. His time in the Confederacy had made sure of it--Isley Verd seemed to have been enamored with the woman. Calico could see the appeal, but, as with all business people, words and pretty looks were nothing more than feathers in the wind. They held no weight.
He reached up and popped his helmet off, the sound of it depressurizing filling the room for a moment. His beard had grown out substantially, and the thin lines around his eyes seemed to demand attention. The aging cure had been found, but the damage already done could never be reversed. He ran a hand through his wiry black hair, and flashed his most charming smile--just as he had been taught.
"What's the purpose of this call, ma'am?" He cut straight to the chase. Being charming, frankly, was not Calico's strong suit; and it gave him a prickling feeling of anxiety. Still, it was all necessary to look like decent folk.
"Unless you dialed the wrong number. In that case, I apologize, we no longer sell hot-cakes." [/color]
"Though we do sell donuts." Ori'Alor said, smirking behind her helmet "you can get a dozen for 15 Creds."
Danger gave a slight pause, before bringing the cigarillo back to her lips. The cherry tip glew a bright hue ‘fore she took took it out of her mouth. This, made things interesting.
Neutrality is what made ATC where it’s at today, and if word were right --- Go tsao de! There came the mental Zeltron curse. It was non other than the former Grand Marshal himself. Business woman that she was, this bit of shock didn’t reflect in her expression, but it certainly kicked up the start of this conversation by a whole heck of a notch.
“Charmed,” she began, keeping her smile up, then giving a slight chuckle,”Well.. if this be the number to order hotcakes, I reckon that delivery would be mighty expensive make.”
“None the less, no, I ain’t the kind to make wrong comm calls, so I guess we can just get down to it, mmm?” The less she knew the better. Ain’t a lie if one don’t know.
"Depends on what you want to get down to ma'am, we're verd here. Good conduct is in the MO." It was a joke, a bad joke with the presence of a stranger, powerful one at that. What it meant was half-unclear though.
A faint smirk crossed the lips of the Jedi Master at this conversation. For a business meeting, they all had quite the sense of humor.
"I hear ya'll be looking for some kinda work; recommendations come my way to suggest that ya'll just might be the kind I need for ATC. The company's expanding at a high rate, and frankly, I'm in need of security, pilots, and what have you to keep me and mine a float." a slight grin cracked at the joke said by the one in the Katern helm.
"Hmm... been a while since someone asked me in that kinda form, but the nitty gritty be the same."
Danger 's lips went a bit wider, "Do me right and I'll do you just fine... be it credits or trade goods."
"Speaking of trade goods." Ori'ALor said, pulling out a datapad "How much do you think a Modernized C70 could get me?"
Krest scratched his chin slightly, tilting his head. "Do you right? Are you wanting our best or are we all going to come?" It was a legidimate question.
Galaar would turn to Alliera and give a glance over at her with his Blue T-Shaped visor. "We;re not here to barter ner'vod. Wait until a later date, aye?"
Calico was silent for the moment. He remained unmoved, the faint smile still on his lips. He had no need to speak. Not yet.
"I've been needing to speak to someone about the Lost Blade anyway." Ori'Alor said, semi defending herself "I admit it was a bad time, but I just remembered that she does the bartering."
Danger merely blinked at the one asking for a quote, "'Pends on what side of the Galaxy ya'll selling."
Her attention drew towards the former Visroy, "Could be a group, could be individual -- ain’t picky, but this ain’t a one stop kinda job. I’ve concerns up and down the Mara and throughout ATC trade stations that will need attention to. Same with dealin’ with folks that might start poking the Ackley if messing with me and mine.
The jobs are varied; Ya’ll can pick and chose what ya’ll want. Think of it as freelancer contracts for jobs ‘pending on your availability. However, the more you are selective with the jobs, the less money and benefits ya’ll reap. Get constant and work more with me… then the higher the pay.”
Calico made a deep rumbling noise in the back of his throat. He exchanged subtle glances with all those he called allies, and fixated his dark eyes gaze on the holographic woman. "Alright. Our lads can do Merc work fine, but I want it to be clear. We aren't thugs. We aren't gangsters. We have morals and standards."
He paused, setting his elbow on the table, and his chin on his knuckles. "If my lads want to work for you, they certainly can. It's no secret that the Concord takes a fortune to stay afloat. If you need warriors, we're here. To make it doubly clear, we will not assist you if you support a galactic power in wartime. We left that, and we won't serve warmongers."
The smile was gone from his face now. His jaw was set and his eyes had a seriousness to them. "I'll send the message to the rest of the Concord. We'll discuss payments as things progress. Is everyone here in agreement?" He glanced around the room. "Everyone?"\
Krest shrugged his shoulders. "If I end up on Tatooine again that would certianly be interesting."
"I agree, Sarge." Galaar affirmed to his brother.
Danger couldn’t help but give a slight laugh at that. Considering she be one of the biggest neutral parties in the galaxy, “ Picking sides be the best way to ruin a business,” she replied. The terms were agreeable; ain’t like she didn’t have others under her payroll that were just fine doing other kind of work. But they signed up for that.
However, since they made clauses, here were her’s, “ But if we talking standards, I have mine.” there was a hardening in her green eyes, and while her voice flowed over sweetly, her words were biting, “ Don’t do me wrong. Honor the contract and work your best and we right as rain. Turn on me and mine… well,” she gave a small shrug, “ I swear by my pretty little bonnet, I’ll shoot you myself,” as the saying goes.
Calico huffed a quiet laugh of his own. He quirked a brow, firing back. "You mistake us for the Confederacy. We honor our contracts."
Since when was the Concord a mercenary group? If he'd known this was Omega Pyre, he'd have considered his options... His eyebrow raised as these men and... Woman, talked business. He would speak to Calico later.
Logan Wade would like to point out that there were Mercenaries within the Concord, but the vast majority were average folk.
Danger gave a slow understanding smile, "Mmm... well... they be like wind; changing to and fro at the slightest provocation. One Former Grand Marshal already spent neigh on two hundred million righting a wrong to me... I don't think ya'll have that kinda money to wager on breaking of words." it was a joke, but lighthearted. The group had a general understanding of just where the Confederacy lay.
"You'd be surprised about our funding."
"Thats another matter we don't just bring up, har'chaak."
Danger was amused at the back and forth. Well.... what a curious curio.
"Explain what Har'chaak is again?"
"Damn. Slag. Kark."
Calico cocked his head slightly to the side. He hadn't known that. "Either way, I'll put up a sign to our mercenaries. We have quite a few with nothing to do lying around. Though, I can only transfer the contract, the Concord is a government, not a group of Mercenaries. I can't promise how many will take the contract."
That was better, for sure. The Jedi Master simply nodded along then, satisfied. Just taking care of his boys in that juncture... Good. He liked it. Smart. Fair.
"Like I said, group or individual," she told him, taking another deep drag, "Payment is based on just how much work ya'll be keen on doing."
"Nerf-Humped. Bantha-waded. Hutt-rung." Galaar continued after Calico spoke to emphaise the meaning of the word har'chaak to the zabrak and then looked toward Danger. "I apologize for the cursing."
Danger 's eyebrow gave a quirk, "However.. I think it be in our best interests.... for me to not employ ya'll within Confederacy space."
"I'd be willing, Brother." Ori'Alor said to Calico, turning to him "as long I'm not party to darker things."
"It's quite amusing, actually. Colorful language is the beauty every meeting wishes it could have" the Jedi quirked toward Galaar's comment with a small, amused grin.
Danger gave a snort, "Ain't like I ain't heard a greased Hutt try to wiggle his way out of a tin can armor suit."
Danger gave another amused snort, "Now that be some language.."
"You should have heard ME trying to wiggle out of my tin armor after Geonosis."
"Then by all means ner'vod." He shot back to Ori. "By all means. Just try not to get shot. We would all be displeased." The former Grand Marshal rumbled with laughter at his comrades banter...and gave Danger the oddest of looks about her Hutt comment. "I...wh-...okay. Well, I think we're settled then. Did you have anything more to discuss, ma'am?" He huffed another laugh. The lack of understandingof the phrase was actually rather amusing.
"Watching a hutt try to wriggle out of anything is quite the entertainment" the Jedi snarked amusedly. "They'll never get out. It's like a pup trying to chase it's tail"
"S'long as we have an accord, I can have Alisha'ven sent out the contracts to a neutral encrypted site for ya'lls review. Payment will also be made in a neutral depository," a wry smile came "In case some folk decide to seize funds... wouldn't put 'em pass them."
"Considering how many I employ in the galaxy... I think it be a fair right guess that I don't know each an every member in my payroll" she said it casually, "Too much for my pretty little brain to keep up with. Am only a female right?" that was the joke, but the meaning behind it was clear. She'd keep quiet about them and keep em off confederacy space so they can do their jobs for ATC without worry.
Last thing she needed was the Confederacy sniffing round her warehouses.
"But if the terms be right by you... well then... we gots ourselves an accord."
Calico lifted his shoulders in a slight shrug. He saw no real harm in accepting, and it seemed all the others were in agreement. "We accept. Be ready to recieve some of our boys in a week or so." He glanced around the room. "Anything to add? I not, I think we've finished."
Danger shook her head, "No.. been a real pleasure. Alisha will relay what jobs open up."
Zius stiffened his posture and spoke aloud. Utter sincerity within his tone as his shoulderguards clanked lightly with the sudden shift in stance. Killing was killing and Zius had his fill, and it wouldn't mean much to see men die once again; he'd grown used to such tragedy. "I agree to do it as well."
Calico pushed up from his chair, and reached for his helmet. "The pleasure is all mine, ma'am. Enjoy your evening." He simply assumed it was evening wherever she was, and cut the connection. "Do as you please son, just be careful. You too, Or'ika. I'll be in my quarters." With that said, he went off toward the exit.
Sitting beside Calico was a man who had come to be a confidante and friend, who had pledged himself to the cause for their kindness towards them. Former Grandmaster Josh DragonsFlame's arms were folded as he calmly watched, not speaking yet...
On the otherside of Calico was Galaar, clad in shiny, polished Katarn with new blue trim. He stood with his arms crossed and in full armor, head turning toward the holoterimal, his strill making a deep gruff.
Krest found himself in the same room. In truth he did not have his own ship yet, but it was certianly something he was looking forward to obtaining. He was sitting at a nearby consol, feet propped up on the dashbord. At this point in time the Zabrak was.. Lazy. His hands where behind his head in a cutomary fasion expected of him.
Standing to Calico's left side, Zius had his hands crossed behind his back. His lightsaber presenting itself on his hip as he shifted his shoulders, the durasteel plating clanking a bit with anticipation. The blue neon glow of his visor illuminating the detailed features of his helmet. His cloak clung to his backside like a drape of shadows as he awaited whatever was to come. Keeping silent for now.
Danger 's holographic emitter would show the cerulean blue and slightly statically image of one very familiar face well known up and down the Mara Lane; Danger Arceneau, President of Arceneau Trade Company and reigning queen of Tatooine, spitfire and all.
Oh ain’t in a literal sense, but folks in the Southern Systems knew just where their side was buttered when it came to riling up that dunesea rose. With trade ports in more than half of the known Galaxy, Arceneau made a name for herself in terms of trade goods, fuel, and freighter service. Dealings with the Southern Systems Trade Bazaar only made that titan maned female all the more popular; although some might say it be her finer assets that done did this job.
With Arceneau Trade Expanding from the Fringes of the Lords towards the Mandalorian Space, jobs were opening up within the company for folk wanting to gain a credit or two under the umbrella that is ATC. While Danger was keen on making a profit, she didn’t do wrong with her employees, and working with her meant some perks most were keen on taking advantage of.
None the less, word had it that a group looking to find work might be interested, and Alisha’ven’s urging and recommendation slated a timeslot for her to make contact.
Smoke blew out from the corner of her mouth just as her lips twisted into a coy welcoming smile, “My my my, what a mighty fine pleasure.”
The clone started at the figure who appeared on the holo-teriminal, glad the Katarn helmet hid his expressions because the one across his face was similar to the one he had when sent to die metaphorically at the hands of Alli Wren, CEO of Baktoid. "Su cuy'gar."
Krest sat up rather quickly, looking over. Yeah, he knew about her. During his time in the CIS he was named Warden of Tatooine, of course he'd know the 'Queen' of Tatooine. He moved over beside the group, tilting his head. "Odd, so this is the first time I've had to talk to you. Right when I'm removed from protecting Tatooine."
Zius merely stared with little expression at the said holo-terminal. His stance shifted gingerly as she spoke with a seemingly flattering tone of voice; however, the libido wasn't present. Listening to all the others speak was peculiar yet interesting. It would aid him to understand this stranger and what business she meant. "Maintain focus here, gentlemen." His tone was apathetic and cold, likely to be unmoved or phased by anyone else.
Danger ‘s lips quirked at the corner of her mouth, Well, the traditional greeting of Mand’a certainly pegged them some kind of Mandalorian. Leastwise some that were keen ‘nuff to take to the language. Course, just about every bounty hunter up and down the Mara had some sort of connection to their kind. Not surprising at all.
‘Course that’s when one spoke; mentioning being removed and Tatooine of all things. Her eyes narrowed. Now this was an interesting pickle. Now she knew who exactly she was dealing with, if rumors be true.
"Give me a moment lads, I'm charmed." It was clear that the eldest soldier was grinning under his helmet. He'd heard the stories of Tatooine's corporate ruler. His time in the Confederacy had made sure of it--Isley Verd seemed to have been enamored with the woman. Calico could see the appeal, but, as with all business people, words and pretty looks were nothing more than feathers in the wind. They held no weight.
He reached up and popped his helmet off, the sound of it depressurizing filling the room for a moment. His beard had grown out substantially, and the thin lines around his eyes seemed to demand attention. The aging cure had been found, but the damage already done could never be reversed. He ran a hand through his wiry black hair, and flashed his most charming smile--just as he had been taught.
"What's the purpose of this call, ma'am?" He cut straight to the chase. Being charming, frankly, was not Calico's strong suit; and it gave him a prickling feeling of anxiety. Still, it was all necessary to look like decent folk.
"Unless you dialed the wrong number. In that case, I apologize, we no longer sell hot-cakes." [/color]
"Though we do sell donuts." Ori'Alor said, smirking behind her helmet "you can get a dozen for 15 Creds."
Danger gave a slight pause, before bringing the cigarillo back to her lips. The cherry tip glew a bright hue ‘fore she took took it out of her mouth. This, made things interesting.
Neutrality is what made ATC where it’s at today, and if word were right --- Go tsao de! There came the mental Zeltron curse. It was non other than the former Grand Marshal himself. Business woman that she was, this bit of shock didn’t reflect in her expression, but it certainly kicked up the start of this conversation by a whole heck of a notch.
“Charmed,” she began, keeping her smile up, then giving a slight chuckle,”Well.. if this be the number to order hotcakes, I reckon that delivery would be mighty expensive make.”
“None the less, no, I ain’t the kind to make wrong comm calls, so I guess we can just get down to it, mmm?” The less she knew the better. Ain’t a lie if one don’t know.
"Depends on what you want to get down to ma'am, we're verd here. Good conduct is in the MO." It was a joke, a bad joke with the presence of a stranger, powerful one at that. What it meant was half-unclear though.
A faint smirk crossed the lips of the Jedi Master at this conversation. For a business meeting, they all had quite the sense of humor.
"I hear ya'll be looking for some kinda work; recommendations come my way to suggest that ya'll just might be the kind I need for ATC. The company's expanding at a high rate, and frankly, I'm in need of security, pilots, and what have you to keep me and mine a float." a slight grin cracked at the joke said by the one in the Katern helm.
"Hmm... been a while since someone asked me in that kinda form, but the nitty gritty be the same."
Danger 's lips went a bit wider, "Do me right and I'll do you just fine... be it credits or trade goods."
"Speaking of trade goods." Ori'ALor said, pulling out a datapad "How much do you think a Modernized C70 could get me?"
Krest scratched his chin slightly, tilting his head. "Do you right? Are you wanting our best or are we all going to come?" It was a legidimate question.
Galaar would turn to Alliera and give a glance over at her with his Blue T-Shaped visor. "We;re not here to barter ner'vod. Wait until a later date, aye?"
Calico was silent for the moment. He remained unmoved, the faint smile still on his lips. He had no need to speak. Not yet.
"I've been needing to speak to someone about the Lost Blade anyway." Ori'Alor said, semi defending herself "I admit it was a bad time, but I just remembered that she does the bartering."
Danger merely blinked at the one asking for a quote, "'Pends on what side of the Galaxy ya'll selling."
Her attention drew towards the former Visroy, "Could be a group, could be individual -- ain’t picky, but this ain’t a one stop kinda job. I’ve concerns up and down the Mara and throughout ATC trade stations that will need attention to. Same with dealin’ with folks that might start poking the Ackley if messing with me and mine.
The jobs are varied; Ya’ll can pick and chose what ya’ll want. Think of it as freelancer contracts for jobs ‘pending on your availability. However, the more you are selective with the jobs, the less money and benefits ya’ll reap. Get constant and work more with me… then the higher the pay.”
Calico made a deep rumbling noise in the back of his throat. He exchanged subtle glances with all those he called allies, and fixated his dark eyes gaze on the holographic woman. "Alright. Our lads can do Merc work fine, but I want it to be clear. We aren't thugs. We aren't gangsters. We have morals and standards."
He paused, setting his elbow on the table, and his chin on his knuckles. "If my lads want to work for you, they certainly can. It's no secret that the Concord takes a fortune to stay afloat. If you need warriors, we're here. To make it doubly clear, we will not assist you if you support a galactic power in wartime. We left that, and we won't serve warmongers."
The smile was gone from his face now. His jaw was set and his eyes had a seriousness to them. "I'll send the message to the rest of the Concord. We'll discuss payments as things progress. Is everyone here in agreement?" He glanced around the room. "Everyone?"\
Krest shrugged his shoulders. "If I end up on Tatooine again that would certianly be interesting."
"I agree, Sarge." Galaar affirmed to his brother.
Danger couldn’t help but give a slight laugh at that. Considering she be one of the biggest neutral parties in the galaxy, “ Picking sides be the best way to ruin a business,” she replied. The terms were agreeable; ain’t like she didn’t have others under her payroll that were just fine doing other kind of work. But they signed up for that.
However, since they made clauses, here were her’s, “ But if we talking standards, I have mine.” there was a hardening in her green eyes, and while her voice flowed over sweetly, her words were biting, “ Don’t do me wrong. Honor the contract and work your best and we right as rain. Turn on me and mine… well,” she gave a small shrug, “ I swear by my pretty little bonnet, I’ll shoot you myself,” as the saying goes.
Calico huffed a quiet laugh of his own. He quirked a brow, firing back. "You mistake us for the Confederacy. We honor our contracts."
Since when was the Concord a mercenary group? If he'd known this was Omega Pyre, he'd have considered his options... His eyebrow raised as these men and... Woman, talked business. He would speak to Calico later.
Logan Wade would like to point out that there were Mercenaries within the Concord, but the vast majority were average folk.
Danger gave a slow understanding smile, "Mmm... well... they be like wind; changing to and fro at the slightest provocation. One Former Grand Marshal already spent neigh on two hundred million righting a wrong to me... I don't think ya'll have that kinda money to wager on breaking of words." it was a joke, but lighthearted. The group had a general understanding of just where the Confederacy lay.
"You'd be surprised about our funding."
"Thats another matter we don't just bring up, har'chaak."
Danger was amused at the back and forth. Well.... what a curious curio.
"Explain what Har'chaak is again?"
"Damn. Slag. Kark."
Calico cocked his head slightly to the side. He hadn't known that. "Either way, I'll put up a sign to our mercenaries. We have quite a few with nothing to do lying around. Though, I can only transfer the contract, the Concord is a government, not a group of Mercenaries. I can't promise how many will take the contract."
That was better, for sure. The Jedi Master simply nodded along then, satisfied. Just taking care of his boys in that juncture... Good. He liked it. Smart. Fair.
"Like I said, group or individual," she told him, taking another deep drag, "Payment is based on just how much work ya'll be keen on doing."
"Nerf-Humped. Bantha-waded. Hutt-rung." Galaar continued after Calico spoke to emphaise the meaning of the word har'chaak to the zabrak and then looked toward Danger. "I apologize for the cursing."
Danger 's eyebrow gave a quirk, "However.. I think it be in our best interests.... for me to not employ ya'll within Confederacy space."
"I'd be willing, Brother." Ori'Alor said to Calico, turning to him "as long I'm not party to darker things."
"It's quite amusing, actually. Colorful language is the beauty every meeting wishes it could have" the Jedi quirked toward Galaar's comment with a small, amused grin.
Danger gave a snort, "Ain't like I ain't heard a greased Hutt try to wiggle his way out of a tin can armor suit."
Danger gave another amused snort, "Now that be some language.."
"You should have heard ME trying to wiggle out of my tin armor after Geonosis."
"Then by all means ner'vod." He shot back to Ori. "By all means. Just try not to get shot. We would all be displeased." The former Grand Marshal rumbled with laughter at his comrades banter...and gave Danger the oddest of looks about her Hutt comment. "I...wh-...okay. Well, I think we're settled then. Did you have anything more to discuss, ma'am?" He huffed another laugh. The lack of understandingof the phrase was actually rather amusing.
"Watching a hutt try to wriggle out of anything is quite the entertainment" the Jedi snarked amusedly. "They'll never get out. It's like a pup trying to chase it's tail"
"S'long as we have an accord, I can have Alisha'ven sent out the contracts to a neutral encrypted site for ya'lls review. Payment will also be made in a neutral depository," a wry smile came "In case some folk decide to seize funds... wouldn't put 'em pass them."
"Considering how many I employ in the galaxy... I think it be a fair right guess that I don't know each an every member in my payroll" she said it casually, "Too much for my pretty little brain to keep up with. Am only a female right?" that was the joke, but the meaning behind it was clear. She'd keep quiet about them and keep em off confederacy space so they can do their jobs for ATC without worry.
Last thing she needed was the Confederacy sniffing round her warehouses.
"But if the terms be right by you... well then... we gots ourselves an accord."
Calico lifted his shoulders in a slight shrug. He saw no real harm in accepting, and it seemed all the others were in agreement. "We accept. Be ready to recieve some of our boys in a week or so." He glanced around the room. "Anything to add? I not, I think we've finished."
Danger shook her head, "No.. been a real pleasure. Alisha will relay what jobs open up."
Zius stiffened his posture and spoke aloud. Utter sincerity within his tone as his shoulderguards clanked lightly with the sudden shift in stance. Killing was killing and Zius had his fill, and it wouldn't mean much to see men die once again; he'd grown used to such tragedy. "I agree to do it as well."
Calico pushed up from his chair, and reached for his helmet. "The pleasure is all mine, ma'am. Enjoy your evening." He simply assumed it was evening wherever she was, and cut the connection. "Do as you please son, just be careful. You too, Or'ika. I'll be in my quarters." With that said, he went off toward the exit.
