Ravens Without a Cause (Rebel Alliance/Red Raven Truce)

[Armand Temi]

Location: Dragon Palace Casino Lobby, Antecedent

Maybe it was due to the recent incident where the Red Ravens entered the Rebel Alliance airspace too close for comfort and nothing had happened – no mud was flung, no shots fired.

Or maybe it was because Armand Temi, Benefactor of the Rebel Alliance had felt things were moving too slowly on the actual rebellion front. The “pick up a grenade and throw it through a fat-cat government window because change was moving too slow” type of rebellion front.

Yes the Alliance was making headwaves on Ryloth and Praesitlyn, converting the population to Selectivism, trying to establish living wages and free medical services for the abused and abased populations. But he knew that eventually push would come to shove and shove would come to bombs and he wanted to be able to tap into a network which wouldn’t implicate any of the Alliance and besmirch their good reputation as of late.

The Red Ravens

They had been mortal enemies for so long.

The Hapan doctor could tell when he talked to certain members of the Alliance that the blood between the two groups had moved beyond bad - it was clotted, crusted and dark. Mentioning certain members of the Ravens and certain confrontations like Makeb caused a visceral reaction of disgust in the most affected members of the Rebel Alliance. But the Hapan politican knew that with so much change in the galaxy and whisperings that the One Sith was amassing bigger armies of war and destruction... a bold move had to be made. He had consulted with the Alliance leaders and despite reservations, the consensus was unanimous.

War certainly made strange bedfellows.

And strange couldn’t even begin to describe the anxious feeling coursing through Temi as his lightsaber and blaster were swiftly taken from him by security in the lobby so the group of Rebel Alliance leaders would be admitted entrance to wherever the actual Truce would happen. Thanks to endless intel on the Ravens courtesy of Eugene Leopold and Wookieeleaks, Dr. Temi knew to reach out to Chiasa Krivitaas to set up this meeting. He wasn’t sure where they would be going but it would be without weapons.

Armand turned to his fellow leaders and hoped they were masking any and all apprehension of entering the criminals' threshold defenseless. He looked specifically at Corruck Kazen. “Sorry Nemesis, you have to turn over whatever arsenal you’ve got hiding in your jacket. They won't allow us in here if you've got a thermal detonator hidden in your side pocket," he smirked.

[member="Juwiela Melec"] [member="Corruck Kazen"] [member="DasGeneral"] [member="Krasnaya Xue"] [member="Cryax Bane"] [member="Chiasa Kritivaas"] [member="Patricia Susan Garter"]

 

[Juwiela Melec]

The name of the Red Ravens was not one uttered among good graces within the Alliance, and for a number of reasons, specifically what had transpired both above and on Makeb during the insurgency led by the Rebels. Juwiela was no exception to this rule, in fact, she was something of a propagator. There were a number of reasons she could tick off on her fingers - including the new cybernetic ones on her right hand - and then some. It was no surprise that she had been less than thrilled at the news from those higher in the hierarchy than her that a treaty would soon be drawn up between the two previously warring factions. Being asked to represent the Alliance came as less of an unwanted event, or at least as less of an unexpected one.

One aspect that didn't sit well with her, beyond the initial meeting being called, was the requirement that they be relieved of any and all weaponry, regardless of how harmless it may have been. That ultimately included her durasteel staff, something she gave up grudgingly. It wasn't as if any of the others were agreed to the idea either, regardless of whatever face they were currently putting on so as to appear polite guests. This ran deeper than just fighting on opposite sides of the battlefield, for her. It was more personal than that. She might have been young and inexperienced in the eyes of the Ravens, but she was certainly able to hold a grudge when she wanted to.

A quiet sigh of apprehension escaped her, and she shot the security present a look that, well, probably wasn't quite understood by them, given the fact that a tan band was present where her eyes would have been. They had to appear respectful, sure. But she was a Rebel, after all. Besides, from her point of view, they were giving up the information that they, she and Corruck specifically,had spent months keeping from those they were now going to be at peace with. It was all quite absurd. But she knew that arguing the point wouldn't get her anywhere, so she conceded to silence. That didn't mean she couldn't let her feelings be known through more subtle means.

"I know we've had some bad ideas in the past, but this trumps them all."

[member="Armand Temi"]

 

[Chiasa Kritivaas]

Where they would be going was to be ushered by a hostess after being disarmed to an over sized round table style booth, equipped with privacy field and with security droids at a respectful distance keeping the common populace away. They would also be met with a waitress to take their drink orders if they were so inclined to make one. The Dragon palace Casino had standards after all.

Who they would be met by was one tiger-striped Twi'lek in a fairly simple (for her) black dress, with her hands folded on the table and a largely unreadable shading to expectantly friendly expression. Her co-leader [member="Patricia Susan Garter"] was also present. She had vaguely considered not telling the blonde about the meeting, but decided she ought to make some effort to co-exist. Besides, if they did reach an agreement the blonde would need to know to stop shooting.

Chiasa was conflicted on the matter of the Rebel Alliance. On the one hand, they were the ones who had shot Lysle Rigger, and that was a matter she found hard to forgive. On the other, they had quite frankly always baffled her.

Apparently they were anti-government.

So they'd immediately gone to war with criminals.

Because that made sense.

In any case, while other people being at war could be infinitely profitable, the Ravens being at war was costly, and she did not approve of it when it could be avoided. So despite the slight urge to find out who had pulled the trigger and then gouge their eyes out and set them afire, she was going to play nice and hear what they had to say.

She was still the Diplomat after all, and she was endlessly pragmatic.

[member="Armand Temi"] [member="Juwiela Melec"] [member="Corruck Kazen"] [member="DasGeneral"] [member="Krasnaya Xue"] [member="Cryax Bane"]

 

[Corruck Kazen]

Corruck grinned, not a warm humorous smile. No this was the kind that said, 'Given one opportunity I would slaughter everybody here.' This was absolutely too far for him. He wouldn't be here in fact, if not for the Bene... no [member="Armand Temi"] . Ever since Gen had gone off to take over the Republic, Corruck had never really been able to think of anybody as the Benefactor. If not for Armand's decision to try and make allies of the enemies that had given him over to Dredge. If for no other reason than Armand had insisted, Corruck had grudgingly accepted.

Now though, the icy smile was replaced by fabricated hurt with a pinch of insult. He responded, making his voice appear to be one of indignation but obviously joking. "I would never use a thermal detonator maybe a Permacrete Detonator..."

He had to keep himself to appear friendly, even if his entire being would prefer to bombard this place and then exterminate survivors. He had to control himself, otherwise he would be asking for trouble. He knew in his heart that he had to let go of his anger/hatred/whatever it was, and he had to move beyond it. His mind though, that was the problem. He felt urges to just shove his blaster into the nearest Raven and let three blaster shots do the talking for him. He couldn't do that, he knew, but it was a tempting offer.

To remove the temptation, and to obey the rules that had been set, he handed over his two guns, Dropper and Core's Death, and a small incendiary grenade. He gave the person he handed it to a stern look before moving on. He expected to have those returned when this was all over. If they weren't, well that was just one more thing he would make them pay for. The damage those weapons could do would be incomprehensibly less than what he would have done.

Corruck then followed the hostess into the room. One look around and already his mind was going about deciding which areas would be safest in a fire fight. He shook his head, breaking the thoughts before he turned his attention to the Twi'lek at the end of the table. He didn't spend much time on her, too easy to let thoughts that were both inappropriate and unnecessary to enter his mind. He instead focused on himself, trying to hold in the rage that seemed to ever be growing within him.

[member="Armand Temi"] [member="Juwiela Melec"] [member="Chiasa Kritivaas"]

 

[Miss Blonde]

[member="Armand Temi"] [member="Juwiela Melec"] [member="Chiasa Kritivaas"] [member="Corruck Kazen"] [member="Cryax Bane"]

"This is nice, look at us all cooperating and @&$% it's almost like we totally don't hate each other." Patricia smiled at Chiasa with a sweet little grin.

"We should probably wrap this meeting up soon Chiasa, judging by your dress I can see that this might cut into your guest speaking role at Hookercon." Patricia said in a serious tone before stifling a few laughs.

Sitting next to Chiasa, Patricia was relaxed in her chair with her body slumping down. Normally the Raven Chief of a Staff was out overseeing or handling operations herself in wild space and around the galaxy. But she had been dragged back to antecedent from her current deployment to go and handle a truce between the Rebel Alliance and themselves. She had been a big supporter of the alliance and had even gone on operations with Solan and Gen a few years back when she was still a republic agent. She had done everything from capture slaver leaders to free slaving colonies. It was something she was proud of and while her loyalties lay with the ravens it didn't mean that fighting with the Alliance was good for anyone. The ravens sort of liked to just stay out of the way of local governments and rule the underground. As long as people remained blissfully unaware of their presence the better. Otherwise you had incidents like Makeb.

But Patricia didn't mind getting roped back to Antecedent, her kids that were normally taken with her on the Ranator could eat real food and her daughter Erika could go to her ballet class she had been missing for a few weeks. She always kept her kids with her, it was dangerous being in charge of a criminal syndicate so she had her babies close.

"Well let's hope they aren't complete tools today." Patricia said and adjusted her little red dress and long blonde hair.

Looking over at Chiasa she saw that the woman had brought the itty bitty titty committee with her. she looked back over to herself and crossed her arms over her physically superior chest and smiled in triumph

 

[Chiasa Kritivaas]

The Twi'lek sighed, eyes closing momentarily in a slightly pained expression, and hand rising to her temple.

"Bea tlursakoo san nolsata."

She intoned, eyes opening and looking upwards as if searching for deeper wells of patience. Who even needed enemies with allies like this?

She definitely should not have told Patricia about the meeting. The woman was a diplomatic disaster.

 

[Cryax Bane]

Looking like something the cathar dragged in, Cryax Bane, President of the Red Ravens Criminal Syndicate, stumbled into the Dragon Palace Casino as if he were lost. His suit was rumpled, breath was liquor-soaked, and there were a number of unmentionable male anatomy parts drawn on his face. Twelve hours before, Bane and the teenage slicers in his employ were riotously celebrating the move of Cryax's company, Bane Innovation, to Nar Shaddaa. However, keeping up with a bunch of partying younglings was a task that Cryax sadly underestimated, and the way his head pounded in time with the flickering neon lights of the Dragon Palace Casino reminded him that he wasn't getting any younger. Still, the kids seemed to have a good time even if they did damage thousands of credits worth of new technology.

To add insult to injury, the Red Ravens were calling a truce with the Rebel Alliance, a diplomatic decision that made his blood boil hotter than a Tatooine summer. However, now that that Bane was focusing his efforts on Little Coruscant and his software company, he had little right to squawk about it. The Outer Rim was, for all intents and purposes, Chiasa's and Patricia's show. He was merely here to represent the organization, and also to remind all the game's players that he was watching with glowing red eyes in the back of his head, should one of them try to backstab him or have him greased somehow. Speaking of backstabbing, the blue-skinned crime lord sensed a galaxy of friction between the two Raven women who were flashing each other what were clearly "oh no, she didn't" looks. Perhaps splitting the power between the both of them was a mistake? Silver linings, at least it was an entertaining one.

Flanked by his usual suspects of security droids, he cast a gaze around the room, searching for his former Antecedent bodyguard [member="Erud'ryz'ladre"]. He had invited her to the gathering because he knew how much of an honor it was for her to provide security for her fellow Chiss, and an underworld luminary at that. At least in his mind. As the Chiss flopped down into one of the seats, almost missing it by half a foot, a clearly sympathetic security guard pointed to his face, and made what looked like an obscene gesture. Cryax narrowed his eyes in a hazy squint. Perhaps it was his drunk-googles talking, but the fairly attractive man seemed to be coming onto him. Geez, time and a place, handsome. The crime lord stared in confusion as the security guard came near and whispered something in his ear, with an almost imperceptible roll of his eyes. The Chiss' mouth made an "o" shape, and he nodded an affirmative.

As the meeting was about to begin, the Chiss began to lazily lick his hand and wipe it on his face in attempts to cleanse his skin of whatever foul graffiti the slicers had tagged him with.

[member="Chiasa Kritivaas"] [member="Patricia Susan Garter"] [member="Corruck Kazen"] [member="Juwiela Melec"] [member="Armand Temi"]

 

[Armand Temi]

Armand didn't reply to the commentary from Juwiela and Corruck more of out respect than anything. They had a right to complain, to question his decision-making ability. In fact, he hadn't felt this level of possible mutiny from a crew since he was back in Wild Space with Admiral Brightsky and for scientific research wanted to take home a live Sith virus which could kill the entire galaxy. And looking back on it that was a terrible decision he had to be talked out of. Would this be the same, he thought? In hindsight would this truce raise the Alliance up to the next level? Or would this ultimately ruin it?

Juwiela and Corruck both bore physical scars from the criminal syndicate. Armand didn't know the depths of their mental scars. He turned to them as the security guards practically had to pry their weapons from them with a force bar. At their grim faces, he wanted to say something funny or offer them a drink or a tropical vacation on his dime. But no breezes or palm trees right now would soothe them, he knew. "I don't know if this is the right thing to do," he admitted. "But maybe if anything we can give the Ravens a cause to fight for."

As they snaked their way through the casino with security flanking them closely, the Rebels were brought to a large round table. Two of the Crime Syndicate's top leaders, Chiasa Kritivaas and Patricia Susan Garter were already sitting there waiting. Armand swallowed a lump in his throat and had to steel his nerves. Since the Ravens had placed women in the highest rank of their organization, he had to be careful he didn't laspe back into the master/servant relationship with the female species that had been ingrained in him since he was a teenager on Hapes. If I appear servile, I may as well walk of here right now, he thought.

"Would you like a drink, gentlebeing?" a waitress asked him. By the Maker he would love a shot of Corellian whiskey but he said, "A stimcafe please."
He waited for Melec and Kazen to settle in. His brown eyes took in Chiasa Kritivaas first. She was a beauty for sure. Poised, polished and exotic with her orange skin, adorned with delicate black stripes which settled like paint from a brush on her body. His mind flashed to his Leilani for a moment and then he focused on the task before him. Then there was Patricia Susan Garter, a blonde bombshell, basically spilling out of her tight red dress. The Ravens were clever to have these two at the helm for many reasons that didn't need to be mulled over at right now, lest he be too distracted.

But there was something between the two women. Tension? Jealousy? He couldn't tell at this moment.

"Thank you for meeting me on short notice," he said, still standing around the table. "Should we expect anyone else to join us before we begin? Or should we get down to business?"

Just then he saw the blue form of Cryax Bane weaving over to the table. By the eternal core, what was the drawing on the man's face?!?! Was that...? Oh.

Armand shot a glance at Melec and Kazen, raising his eyebrows like get a load of this. He could tell the Chiss was drunk and at first he felt slighted that the crime lord would show up to an important meeting like this fifty sheets to the wind. But perhaps this turn of events would work to their advantage.

[member="Juwiela Melec"] [member="Corruck Kazen"] [member="Chiasa Kritivaas"] [member="Patricia Susan Garter"]

 

[Juwiela Melec]

The last time Juwiela had been in the presence of any Ravens, not to mention in such close proximity, she had been held prisoner, regarded with as much concern as a common houseplant. Throughout her time in captivity she could sense a tension there, an unspoken fear of just what she and the others were capable of, given what had occurred on Makeb. And she had liked it that way. It was better to be feared by one's enemies, even if the object of their fear really wasn't quite so terrifying. Presently all of them were allowing themselves to forget those events and move on. At the very least she took solace in the fact that Corruck was just as unwilling as she was.

What she couldn't complain about were their first two hostesses, and they seemed cordial enough, though there were hints of something more between the two, a sense of animosity that they were doing their best to conceal. It would have been amusing any other time, and was in the vague sense of the word now. It showed that, despite the show they put on and the reputation that preceded them in all cases, the Ravens were just as much prone to petty squabbles as anyone else. So much for the syndicate trying to appear professional, though it really wasn't her problem.

The next individual to make themselves known immediately drew her attention for quite malignant reasons. Of course, she knew he would likely show his face at this meeting, given his standing, but she still wasn't happy about it. After all, sitting across from her, and all of them, was the man responsible for the disaster that had been their most recent rebellion. Whereas last time the Chiss had been the epitome of cold and sinister, he was now very obviously intoxicated, something that was obvious even without physical sight to show her the cues. Anyone else would have perceived his current state as an insult, but she took it in stride. In a way it gave them an advantage of at least appearing more professional.

Where the Ravens appeared at ease the Rebels were tense, a fact none of them were attempting to remedy. With a certain careful slowness she finally sat, resting her hands on the table before she remembered that had been her forced position during her interrogation, and so she leaned back in her chair with her arms crossed under her chest. A water that she couldn't quite remember asking for was set down next to her, but she paid little attention to the beverage, more important things on her mind.

Her gaze, for want of a better term, remained steadily on the Chiss, the barest of smiles on her lips. "You can still go kark yourself, Bane." It might not have been the smartest thing to say, but who could really blame her?

[member="Armand Temi"], [member="Cryax Bane"], [member="Chiasa Kritivaas"], [member="Patricia Susan Garter"], [member="Corruck Kazen"]

 

[Miss Blonde]

[member="Armand Temi"] [member="Juwiela Melec"] [member="Corruck Kazen"] [member="Cryax Bane"]

Patricia smiled at Chiasa when she spoke in her native tongue, the woman stuck out her tongue slightly then let out a little chuff of laughter. The rebels had started to gather at the table and started to speak, Patricia looked over to Cryax and saw that he was covered dicks that were drawn on his face. Patricia couldn't hold it, it wasn't her fault it was just so damn funny. Hopefully it would help lighten up the mood here but either or she was going to laugh. Patricia began to snort and laugh loudly at Cryax's face, her chest heaved pleasantly and she banged her fist on the table.

"HA! HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!" Patricia laughed wildly at the man some more and a few tears ran down her face. It was just so funny, really it was.

The big terrible president of the Red Ravens showing up to a meeting with their enemies hung over and with dicks drawn on his face. That meant he was the first to pass out last night, Patricia kept laughing and responded to the blind girl's comment.

"ITS TOO LATE!! SOMEONE BEAT HIM TO IT!! HA!" Patricia banged her fist again on the table and let out another snort.

Reaching into her purse she grabbed a small bottle of hand sanitizer and a rag. With a smile split ear to ear on her face she wet the tissue with the sanitizer and while normally this was something she saved for her baby Kincaid or her daughter Erika when they made a mess eating, Patricia had to clean up her close friend. Gently moving his hands down in a motion a mother would do she wiped away the phallic symbols on his face and put a hand on his thigh.

"Hey, it's alright little blue. Just relax and try not to get upset." Patricia gave the man a soft kiss on his now clean cheek and looked up to a waitress.

"A round of tequila sunrises for the table, light on the tequila please. Enough to taste but don't stank it up." Patricia snapped her fingers and soon a round of the juice and liquor drinks were served to the table.

"Little hair of the dog Cryax." Patricia took hers and took a sip of it.

"Come on people this is a meeting not a funeral, lighten up a little." Patricia smiled and took another gulp of the liquid. What was the point of a meeting if you couldn't have a little fun.

 

[Cryax Bane]

A boozy scowl crossed Cryax's face when he heard Juwiela Melec's words from across the table. He looked around the room at the other Red Ravens, his face full of exasperation. "Somebody please kill her," slurred the Chiss.

Then Patricia's loud guffawing cut through the room, and the bang of her fist nearly sent Cryax flying sky high. Suddenly Patricia was fussing over him with a wet cloth, and as his hand nonchalantly tried to wave her away, she cleaned all evidence of the slicers' prank. He would be hard-pressed to admit it, but the phalluses weren't even the half of it. Once he passed out, the teens not only drew on his face, but also managed to duct tape him to a large industrial pipe on the ceiling where he limply hung until he woke. Even worse, the pictures they put on the Holonet had managed to make it to the Spacebook feed of his mother who Holo called him in tears while he was trying to sleep it off on his Galaxy One. And lastly, there were the drunken texts to his ex...don't even get him started on those.

Still the best nights were always those which you remember with the most profound shame imaginable.

Curling his fingers around the glass, he took a sip of the fruity cocktail and then looked around the room. What was going on again? Oh, yes, diplomacy. He supposed he should make a contribution to the dialogue. He straightened his askew tie, took a deep breath, and cleared his throat.

"This is a farce," Bane announced, slamming a hand on the table. Then, he sat back in his chair, his arms folded, and nodded off for a bit.

[member="Patricia Susan Garter"] [member="Juwiela Melec"] [member="Armand Temi"] [member="Chiasa Kritivaas"] [member="Corruck Kazen"]

 

[Chiasa Kritivaas]

The Twi'lek did not react, did not even look over as the bloody farce with [member="Cryax Bane"] and [member="Patricia Susan Garter"] played out. Her face was utterly deadpan save for mounting tension in her shoulders and a slightly clenched jaw. These people. These bloody imbecilic morons who ought not to have been unleashed on the general populace and certainly should never have or have had power.

The were both banned from future diplomatic talks. So help her if she had to spike their drinks, have them kidnapped or, and this was becoming increasingly appealing, HAVE THEM SHOT IN THE DAMN HEAD...

When the tequila came, the Twi'lek pushed hers over to Patricia, perhaps she'd do everyone a favour and pass out too as Cryax seemed to have. This was the closest she came to further acknowledging the blonde. To hell with diplomacy. Were the Rebels recruiting? Couldn't be any worse than the circus she was currently with. Still, it was good to be Ringmaster even if you had to work with clowns.

She responded to [member="Armand Temi"] her tone polite, trying to keep all traces of utter frustration and murderous rage that were not in fact aimed at the Rebels in any case out of her voice.

...maybe she could give them Cryax and Patricia. That would make up for past whatever she hadn't bothered to be involved in and save her future headaches. But no, idiots though they might be, they were her idiots, and could not be handed over to any but the staunchest of allies. Maybe after.

"I think this is likely.. more than necessary in attendance already."

Alright she definitely failed at keeping the slight edge out of her voice there but come on! These people were just taking diplomatic power points and tossing them at the other side like confetti.

"We may begin when you are ready."

 

[Armand Temi]

"Thank you, Ms. Kritivaas."

Even though he was twenty-eight, Armand suddenly felt like he was the only mature adult in the room. He finally took his seat among the criminals but much closer to his Alliance companions so they could face off across the table from each other. “I’m fine with my stimcaf for now, Ms. Garter,” he said at the offer of a Tequila sunrise. “Maybe later though and thank you." For a moment, Dr. Temi would remind the small blonde mother of a certain female Temi she had known before.

He sighed and started to speak, but Cryax Bane began to snore and he thought, oh brother what a farce it truly was. Armand cleared his throat loudly, trying to wake the Chiss and have his voice be heard:

“Let’s cut to the chase. We’re here as emissaries of the Rebel Alliance to call a truce between the Red Ravens and our organization. I believe we are both after the same goals at the end of the day.” He sat forward in his seat and looked each of them in the eye. Well except for Bane who was asleep.

“I know there is a bloody history between us but our paths will cross again and I would like it to be without bloodshed this time. There are much bigger enemies out there that we should worry about. The Sith is expanding according to my intelligence, and along with it, are enslaving entire planets. Servitude is what our organization stands against.” There was also that whole Selectivist agenda but he didn't expect a bunch of criminals to understand that when at times even the other Rebels had trouble with the concept. Armand noticed he was sweating in his woolen suit coat so he took out a handkerchief from his breast-pocket and mopped his brow.

“If you hadn’t already noticed, subjected populations are not conducive to your means of income,” he said plainly. “Slavery throws a torque wrench into the cogs of commerce and free trade. When half of the population is enslaved they cannot spend money.” He continued trying to drill the point home. “Slaves cannot buy spice, they cannot buy weapons, they cannot gamble.” He stopped to quickly monitor Ravens’ reactions. He turned to the Twi’lek. “Do you agree, Ms. Kritivaas?” And then he looked at Patricia Susan Garter and asked, "And Ms. Garter?"


[member="Chiasa Kritivaas"] [member="Patricia Susan Garter"] [member="Corruck Kazen"] [member="Juwiela Melec"] [member="Cryax Bane"]

 

[Chiasa Kritivaas]

"To a degree."

That was a diplomats trap he'd set. And she enjoyed that he had. Gods knew it was nice to play the game with an actual adult once in a while. She would not agree with him wholesale, but neither would she disagree while he was making statements that were for the most part true and valid.

"I am not certain I would say we have the same goals, but certainly they might align on occasion. I will be blunt, as you know who we are, we are interested in credits. That is our goal at the end of the day, getting paid. Not anyones political agenda. There is a reason you are meeting us here in a Casino and not up in the political buildings, which if you choose to frequent you would find filled with largely the same politicians who were there before we arrived."

"This is our Temple Mr Temi. Have you ever asked what is the root of credits which are so often said to be the root of evil? Credits are a tool of exchange, which can't exist unless there are goods produced and men able to produce them. Credits are the material shape of the principle that men who wish to deal with one another must deal by trade and give value for value. Credits are made possible only by the men who produce."

"When you accept credits in payment for your effort, you do so only on the conviction that you will exchange it for the product of the effort of others. Not an ocean of tears nor all the guns in the world can transform those little chits in your wallet into the bread you will need to survive tomorrow. Those chits, which should have been gold, are a token of honor – your claim upon the energy of the men who produce. Your wallet is your statement of hope that somewhere in the world around you there are men who will not default on that moral principle which is the root of credits."

"In short, Mr Temi, we have one God and one belief and we do not concern ourselves with much outside of that."

"That being the case, we've judged this little.. scrap to be unprofitable. Quite frankly your insistence on fighting with us has always confounded me. While we do not go out of our way to hunt slavers down, if you asked any employee here or in our other holdings you would find them well paid, they even get dental. We do not have slaves. Moral issues aside, they tend to be lacking in loyalty and commitment. We are not a government. We do not pass laws or oppress people. The only people who find our coming particularly distasteful are other criminals, because as they cut into our profit, they cannot be tolerated. Besides, I have no time for amateurs, those who would gun down a civilian without realizing that by doing so they remove an individual upon whom a future profit could be made."

"Profit, Mr Temi. I would prefer not to lose it fighting you. If it can be gained through better relations, wonderful. Rebellions often eat up supplies, or need things moved from point A to point B. Here we can assist. Do not expect us to throw ourselves into blaster fire for your glorious cause, for there are no credits in the afterlife, but if your cause furthers ours..."

She shrugged.

[member="Armand Temi"]

 

[Reverance]

He had been here before, he distinctly recalled the flavor. Pretty pretty lights, dancers of superficial appeal, even the bar seemed to have it's own charm. Lights switched between vibrant blues and rose golds but he couldn't seem to flick away the feeling of irritation. Like the nuisance of a bug stuck in the helmet, wings against ear drums but incapable of discerning locale. He sat here, he remembered, as he looked across the table towards the former Vice President of the Red Ravens and accepted the bearded individual under his tutelage. Antecedent was the home of the Red Ravens and no matter what odd cosmic events occurred, the Dragon Palace was the booming sort of land for the crimson corvids.

Logan of Little Coruscant was an event short lived in the Wrath's life, their departure occurring some time after Prakith and the defense against the republic invasion. But that didn't mean he would forget, nor would he forget life shot from the belch of a space station above Barab I, Black Sun territory diminished by the guiding hand of the former Hand. He had ties to these people, long standing and even through the recent change in estate, he assisted them with squashing rebellions and discovering new forested planets for the trees that lied beneath. He was an adventurer at heart and was more than happy to help allies in their conquest because that's what it was - no matter how you described it or how you looked at it through rose colored lens. Crime was crime, varying degrees only justification for justice by those looking to skate by on weak morals and shoddy ethics and compromise. It wouldn't slice it...

Speaking of slices, the Wrath dug his hand into a full bowl of oranges. Pulling an unpeeled quarter from the recesses of the dish, he bit into the ripened inner flesh, the delicate fibers so closely resembling sinew, the seeds were organs of reproduction, and the juice flowed like blood from a wound. But...it was just an orange. His left hand would lurch out, grabbing a waitress by the arm, as she recoiled from the touch but seemed adaquately prepared for a certain level of inappropriate touching, given the venue. "Menkooro whiskey, on rocks...and a cup of caf. And do me a favor...find me Cryax Bane." He eyed her, the corner of his socket revealing the only true indication of his recognition of her presence. As she gave a nod to his request, a smile formed at the corner of his mouth as he released the iron grip, permission for her to go on her way.

In water or air, smoke rises. And from the ash tray in the middle of the table, offset from the orange bowl, a cigarra remained cemented to it's position, straddling grooves in the ceramic dish. He stared quietly at the object, biting into the orange slice to deprive it of any remaining sustenance. He wanted to know where Logan was but more so, he wanted to sort out this odd feeling in his gut, something he had learned to trust since his days as a mercenary, long past. Maybe it was something, maybe it was nothing. But if he knew anything, he knew that the tainted Chiss would be here, once afflicted with a sort of distinguishing mark by the Voice. And that very chiss had assisted the One Sith efforts on Kashyyyk, working his magic against the stronghold turrets to allow better penetration from the Legion Yun'Do. Gabriel had never had the opportunity to thank him and if there was one place he might be, it was here. A shot in the dark perhaps...but sometimes popping off a few rounds into the abyss was worth the opportunity for reward.

While he waited for his whiskey, he would make no attempt to mask his presence. His was a tenebrous aura, the likes of which leaked malice and unabated hatred. What did he hate? Anything that stood in his way for the purpose of delaying the inevitable change he fueled. Beyond that, he was of a tempered mood, pointed and precise. Depending on how long it took for the whiskey to arrive, that might change.

[member="Cryax Bane"]

Spoiler

ooc: I asked Cryax if I could join in here, since there is some history. If it's trouble, pm me and I'll back out no biggie.

 

[Chiasa Kritivaas]

Chiasa had been rather pleased with that little speech, though she kept any hint of self satisfaction off her face. Vain narcissist she might be, and more impressed with herself than anyone else, she was still the consummate Diplomat, even surrounded by idiots. Still, as she fell silent to allow the Rebels a chance to reply, an uneasiness settled upon her.

Only one thing that she knew of could provoke that sort of reaction, impose an emotion on her, a dark-sider, and a strong one at that. Damn and double damn. This wasn't quite treason, yet, she'd left alone Temi's mention of the Sith, had not accepted or rejected the idea of them as a bigger enemy. The tension that had started to ease as the game continued picked up again, muscles tightening. A faint hint of fear whsipered around her mind.

She remembered her mind being ripped open and memories torn out. She remembered muscles and tendons, bones being pushed just to the point of almost breaking. She remembered the scent of ozone and the taste of blood as electricity coursed through her. Oh yes, she remembered these things very well indeed. And they had come when she was playing good little Sith ally. Insult upon insult from one of the Voices of the Dark Lord. How many times had their actions crossed the line of what would be considered acceptable under the treaty? Too many.

But the Twi'lek was not interested in directly opposing them.. They were too strong. Besides, some of them had in fact assisted the Ravens, causing the treaty in the first place, and had continued to assist them since. Plus as she'd said, she had one Master, and he did not sit on a dark throne, he jingled in her pocket and lived in digital form. There were even fewer credits on going to war with the Sith than there was in continuing the fight with the Alliance.

She would need to step carefully, oh so carefully. A privacy field was no guarantee of such against one strong in the Force.

[member="Reverance"] [member="Armand Temi"]

 

[Juwiela Melec]

Had it been both biologically and physically possible, at that very moment Juwiela would have rolled her eyes. This was beginning to turn into a joke, and it would have surprised her at this point if any actual diplomacy was accomplished by the end of these talks. Granted, she was likely to blame for much of the issue so far, but given all that had arisen between the two parties currently seated at opposite ends of the table, the space between them only beginning to symbolize the divide that split them. And thanks to the behavior of a certain [member="Cryax Bane"], it was only widened. Again, she had spurred him on, but it was all deserved, to her.

A number of biting retorts that would shock even those minds currently present came to mind, but for better or worse she kept silent, merely listening to the proceedings. They hadn't come to discuss her interrogation or [member="Corruck Kazen"]'s torture at the hands of the Yuuzhan Vong, no matter how freshly those events stood out in both of their minds. This was a time to forgive and forget, though she would be hard-pressed to comply with either of those goals until the Ravens agreed with the terms that had been pre-arranged and agreed on by every one of the Alliance leaders. To get them to accept would be a long-winded ordeal, most probably.

Once more she shifted her position, leaned forward to rest her elbows on the table, not speaking up herself just yet. It was a better decision for her to remain silent unless spoken to, given her ill will towards the Chiss that was currently slumbering on without a care in the world, as if this wasn't an important alliance being forged between a criminal syndicate and an organization that prided itself in rebellion and instigating its own form of government on worlds that were previously enslaved or otherwise under tyrannical rule. In all respects they were polar opposites, but as the most recent speaker, a Twi'lek female by way of her sight, had said, if their goals coincided, this was only beneficial in the end.

Surprisingly enough the woman seemed to be entirely compliant with the thought so far, even if it was plainly obvious that the two were after much different goals. Where one favored monetary gain the other was in search of profit, no matter the means necessary to go about it. But again, as the more vocal of the women had pointed out, not much could be said against it all if they could, at the end of the day, help to further each other's causes. There was only one facet that needed to be altered...

Before she could lend further time to that though, a presence made itself known to her via the Force, familiar to her in the sense of allegiance, though not the individual. The individual, whomever they may have been, was obviously affiliated with the Sith, a matter they had come to this very establishment to discuss. More to the point, the termination of the coalition that had come about between the Ravens and the following of darksiders. It wouldn't come easily, but it would be made even more difficult by one of that very Order being currently in the building, and seemingly nearby. Idly she tapped the fingers of her left hand on the table, using the same type of code she had in her holo those months before to sign one word: Sith.

[member="Chiasa Kritivaas"], [member="Armand Temi"], [member="Reverance"]

 

[Armand Temi]

Armand listened intently to the orange-skinned Raven leader and although her soliloquy was a bit long-winded, he thought at least someone around here is more interested in debate than the drinks.

"Yes," he said. "I think we are on the same side of the fence as it were." He glanced at Kazen and Melec and hoped they would forgive him for the bravado he was about to display:

"The Rebel Alliance is under different leadership now, I assure you. There will be less insistence on fighting with criminals and a larger initiative to battle the true evil that lives in the galaxy."

As if on cue, Armand felt a cold chill shoot up his spine as someone or something of a darker nature entered the Dragon Palace Casino. This presence was in sharp contrast against the gleeful noises of lucky gamblers and drunk revelers. He tried to push it away but it remained. Armand needed to continue despite the strange malaise he suddenly felt.

"Which brings me to my question of your loyalties, Ms. Kritivaas. There is one thing that would prevent this truce from taking place and I will pose it as a question." His eyes narrowed as he spoke to the Twi'lek and his chin raised defiantly. "Just what is the nature of your alliance with the One Sith?"


[member="Chiasa Kritivaas"] [member="Patricia Susan Garter"] [member="Corruck Kazen"] [member="Juwiela Melec"] [member="Cryax Bane"] [member="Reverance"]

 

[Chiasa Kritivaas]

Damn the man! She supposed, not knowing that he himself was force sensitive, he might not have been aware of their new guest but.. How was she to handle this? How was she to give the answer that would allow them to move forward, remove the Rebel Alliance as a threat and make their relationship profitable without setting off the Sith that the overly paranoid Twi'lek was convinced had been tipped off and was here, listening.

This was her Casino! Her operation! Her staff and her schemes and hers. Her territory.

In theory she was co-leader. On paper she still ranked below Cryax. This did not stop or negate any of the above. The whisper of fear made her angry, brought the blood to her cheeks that anyone dare make her feel threatened within her own home. But look at the idiots she was trusting to have her back. How many of her security teams had Patricia replaced? How many of them were still competent? Who could she trust?

 

[Carbon]

Seated at a bar not too far from the grouping was a lone man in a battered old sweater to go with the weathered features that constituted his face. He hadn't shaved in a few days, though his hair was appropriately trimmed and slicked over to one side. Hunched over a glass of whiskey, his attention seemed intent on the holodisplays set above the alcohol on display in front of him.

The Ravens were beating the Mynocks 2 to 1, so far. Which meant if this kept up he might make a few credits. He wasn't normally a betting man but he had to have some reason to be here.

Actually, in truth, he did have a reason to be here. His eyes fell towards the mirror that separated display from bar display, lingering on where the orange Twi'lek should be behind him. A single, firm glare. Nothing more. Nothing less.

A face of stone. A glare of disappointment. His eyes went back to the game, his hands clapped together faintly at the new score. 3-1.

The show went on.