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An Entity of Type : owl:Thing, within Data Space : 134.155.108.49:8890 associated with source dataset(s)

August 5, 3007 - The crew of the Faux visits Marcuccilli of the Warren to discuss Darya's plans for the Arena and the crew of the Working Blue. Marcuccilli's Office - The Warren A thick steel security door, wood-covered in an attempt to make it seem less out-of-place, opens into a well-lit, tastefully decorated office. Thick maroon carpet runs wall-to-wall. The bottom halves of the walls are mahogany-paneled, while the top halves are painted white and covered with a wide variety of works of art, many of them expensive-looking. Directly opposite the door in the roughly square, thirty-foot by thirty-foot room is a fully-stocked minibar. To the left is a coffee table, surrounded by two black leather recliners and a couch of the same material. To the right is an oversized mahogany desk, inset

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  • "New Rules"
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  • August 5, 3007 - The crew of the Faux visits Marcuccilli of the Warren to discuss Darya's plans for the Arena and the crew of the Working Blue. Marcuccilli's Office - The Warren A thick steel security door, wood-covered in an attempt to make it seem less out-of-place, opens into a well-lit, tastefully decorated office. Thick maroon carpet runs wall-to-wall. The bottom halves of the walls are mahogany-paneled, while the top halves are painted white and covered with a wide variety of works of art, many of them expensive-looking. Directly opposite the door in the roughly square, thirty-foot by thirty-foot room is a fully-stocked minibar. To the left is a coffee table, surrounded by two black leather recliners and a couch of the same material. To the right is an oversized mahogany desk, inset
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abstract
  • August 5, 3007 - The crew of the Faux visits Marcuccilli of the Warren to discuss Darya's plans for the Arena and the crew of the Working Blue. Marcuccilli's Office - The Warren A thick steel security door, wood-covered in an attempt to make it seem less out-of-place, opens into a well-lit, tastefully decorated office. Thick maroon carpet runs wall-to-wall. The bottom halves of the walls are mahogany-paneled, while the top halves are painted white and covered with a wide variety of works of art, many of them expensive-looking. Directly opposite the door in the roughly square, thirty-foot by thirty-foot room is a fully-stocked minibar. To the left is a coffee table, surrounded by two black leather recliners and a couch of the same material. To the right is an oversized mahogany desk, inset with a computer terminal, behind which sits a high-backed black leather office chair. A glittering silver fountain pen has been placed in a holder on the desk. The Don of the Warren sits behind his desk, leaning back with eyes closed. Classical music plays, and Marcuccilli lets it continue for a moment as the door opens to admit the Faux's crew, switching it off as he opens his eyes to watch them enter. There is the usual security--two guards by the door and a psi blocker in the desk. Ace leads her crew in, nodding to the Don, "Spaciba for seeing us," she says as she stops at a respectful distance. "Is a matter of some importance that I wished to seek your opinion on." Stars moves in with some curiosity, following Ace, offering Marc's guards - and then Marc - a greeting flick of the tail, his heavy paws deep in longcoat pockets. Patiently, the big cat moves to the side, doing his best not to loom with a remarkable lack of success. Nixkamich looks a bit ditier than usual, but thanks to the all black clothing, it isn't quite as noticible as it could be. The Qua steps in quietly after the others, but like the others, does offer a polite nod to the Don. Swiftfoot stalks in after Ace, beside Stars, and offers a similar greeting. Her paws are also deep in her pockets. They make a cute couple, these, like a pair of bookends. Very large, furry bookends that look nothing alike, but still. She moves off to the opposite side that the other Demarian stands on, but still stays a bit behind Ace. Marcuccilli raises an eyebrow. "Do go on," he suggests, eyeing Stars, Nixkamich, and Swiftfoot all in turn before returning his focus to Ace. "Will get straight to the point," Ace says, opting for the blunt approach, "With Murovny missing in action, his operations are in the hands of a woman who is somewhat lacking in any business sense. Have been thinking that perhaps it is time for the Twin Moons to have a change of ownership." Marcuccilli digests that for a moment, exhaling. "Would you care," he replies, "to quantify that accusation?" Stars stands - apparently disinterested, simply patiently listening. The lazy flick of his tail, however, may speak to more interest. The ginger Demarian, on the other hand, is at least somewhat curious about the goings-on here. Swifty's ears are perked forward, and her whiskers are bristled out fully, but she remains silent for the moment. As always, Nix doesn't seem to interact that much. Like the rest of the crew, he has nothing to say as well. Folding his arms across his chest, he refrains from speaking. "Darya is a doctor who has opted to let a personal matter stand in the way of profit," Ace explains. "Not to mention the change of ownership I am considering would be one that could be very profitable for you as well." "Captain," Marcuccilli says brusquely, leaning forward a hint, "please note that generally I have the utmost respect for you, but-- you know, I do believe I'll give you a simple way to cease your beating, as they say, around the bush. Are you or are you not referring to the matter of the arena?" "The Working Blue to be more exact, da," Ace says with a nod, "A ship which has sat in dock for quite some time until a crew volunteered to take her and begin to earn some money, though it was Darya who struck the deal and not Murovny. She made a personal matter more important than the money and in doing so, grounded the ship by accepting crew into the Arena instead." Stars flicks an ear, and then rumbles, softly - "'accepting' may not be the rright worrd, Captain." Swiftfoot nods in response to Stars, her tail flicking. "I would tend to agrree," she notes quietly, her paws coming out of her pockets and instead resting in the small of her back. Marcuccilli shakes his head, silent for a moment, and then speaks. "As I understand it," he says, tone neutral, "the ownership of the Working Blue remained with Twin Moons, and therefore falls under Ms. Miasnikov's control. If the crew failed to do as she requested I really see no issue with her taking action against them; after all, it amounts to thievery." He pauses. "Furthermore, if you plan on taking action against the arena and Twin Moons, I am compelled to inform you that by crossing Ms. Miasnikov you cross the Junkyard and, for that matter, you cross me." Ace raises an eyebrow, "Was under the impression that Murovny was more a rival than anything else," she says. "Came to speak with you specifically because I have no desire to cross you or Morgan for that matter." Stars glances calmly up to swiftfoot, tail curling - and idly, with a yawn, pulls his heavy paws out of his pockets, reaching up to scratch at his muzzle. Nixkamich keeps his arms folded, still keeping to himself. Content to simply watch on, he offers nothing to say. Infact, not much of anything as his expression is flat and neutral. Swiftfoot swivels her head to each side, eyeing the room in general, and meeting Stars' gaze briefly. She brushes her tail against her ankles and reaches one paw up to scratch behind her left ear, then shifts her eyes back to the Don. "Mr. Murovny met with an unfortunate accident several months ago," Marcuccilli replies. "One even, I might add, that I did not arrange. Ms. Miasnikov has proven thus far to be a much more cordial neighbor, and too has agreed to an arrangement that should prove quite profitable for me. She has no territorial ambitions, and if she develops any, I am of course always open to the idea of forcible renegotiations. For the time being, though, this power bloc is satisfactory." "Ah, that puts things into a different light," Ace says with a nod, "And again, is why I came to you first. Was unaware of what arrangements you may have had with the new management of the Twin Moons. Thought perhaps to offer you a better one should we succeed." Stars glances down to his PDA, idly - then up to Ace. Unobtrusively, a Mate to the Captain, the big cat growls, softly - "Captain?" A gentle touch to the woman's shoulder, a gesture to her chrono. Swiftfoot looks down at her own chronometer in response to Stars' urgings at Ace, her tail flicking absently. Her gaze tracks across to the Don then, her expression fairly neutral as her paws return to the small of her back. Contagious like a yawn, this makes Nix look down at his own PDA, noting the time. After glancing, he returns to his previous state. "I understood the first time, thank you," Marcuccilli replies shortly. "Allow me to outline the courses of action you can take from here. You may leave the matter alone completely: I do not expect that to happen. You may choose to fight, and perhaps you'll even succeed, but either way I assure you--it will cost you dearly. Even if you do succeed, and if I watch you carry the prisoners away as I bleed on the arena floor and all I've worked to build crumbles to dust, I will die knowing that you and all aboard your ship will not leave the Tomin Nebula alive." His expression is hard, but now it softens, and his tone, harsh before, becomes more gentle. "Captain, I have had profitable dealings with you in the past, and I have been rather kinder to you than to many who have worked for me. I respect you for the work you've done for the and the favors you've done for my associates. This time, though, there will be no yielding. There are new rules now, Captain--play by them, or whatever the outcome, you will not be welcome on Tomin Kora." "Again, is why we are here," Ace says, "Was never my intention to cross you. Came here to hear just what those rules were. Have never threatened you nor do I mean for you to think that has changed...it has not. If I did not care to stay in your good graces, would not be here now." She glances back at the big Demarian and nods, "Am sorry for taking up your time." Stars nods, inclining his head to Marc. "Pleasurre, sirr." He looks to Nix and Swifty, then nods to the door. "Evening," Swiftfoot says, offering a flick of her ears and a polite incline of her head. She stalks toward the door, her tail swishing absently back and forth. Nixkamich returns the nod to Stars. Another nod to the Don, and without a word turns to open the door and exits. Marcuccilli waves his cybernetic hand, leaning back in his chair. "Go, then," he says. "For what it's worth, Captain--your death over this matter would be one of those few that I would be sad to see. Do not force that upon me." He closes his eyes and keys the music on again. "Good evening."
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