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| - The lunite is standing near the entrance to the mouth leading outdoors to Plaindid Street, dressed in the robes of his organisation he looks somewhat out-of-place, yet at ease. He simply watches the quiet bustle, with the look of watching out for someone. Seale strolls quickly into the cavern, one hand occupied with a suitcase, the other fiddling with a PDA. An elderly-looking Timonae follows him two steps behind. "We got Virriz off the street?" the Lunite asks the Timonae. "Yes, we have him holed up in Jeannie's house. He won't be groping the Sivadians, don't you worry." The Lunite merely shakes his head gravely. "I'm sure there's something we've forgotten." The watcher follows the regal-looking lunite's entrance with a note of surprise. Almost immediately his eyes focus in on the man and with a nod to himself makes after the gentleman and the elderly-looking timonae. The Timonae rubs his smooth chin. "The Sivadians are fed, the harbor is taken care of, the streets are taken care of, we've got the festival committee in full swing, and all the council are awake, sober, and threatened with bodily harm if they try to take potshots at the Sivadians to look good for the coming elections. There's nothing else, sir." The seven-foot bald Lunite shakes his head, fumbling with his electronic key. "There's always something else," he mumbles darkly. Ryan makes good speed, following in Seale's wake he doesn't have the few people obstructing his path that the older man does, his timing is perfect as he makes a small cough just as the man finishes muttering 'There's always something else.' Seale turns towards the sound of the noise, his eyebrows raising in vague surprise. "Why, hello there. I'm really somewhat busy right now. Is there something I can help you with quickly?" The Timonae steps off to the side, sizing up the robe-clad man. Ryan's voice is deep, reverberating and emotionless, sounding more like a synthesiser of the type used by the G'ahnli or the Centaurans than a 'human' voice. However the lunite's eyes show a good mix of age and humour that more than make up for it, "I sent your government a message a short while ago." He gives a short bow, "I was once Jeffrey Ryan, Ex-Senator to the Free Lunite Protecorate." "Quite the wanted man, last I heard," Seale says unemotionally, handing his briefcase to the Timonae and gesturing him inside. "I know your history, Mr. Ryan. What gives me the pleasure of having an alleged terrorist within arm's reach?" "I want to offer my services to New Luna," replies Ryan. "Only damned place left where lunites are living free of the Fleeters." He doesn't seem fazed by the veiled threat. "I'm a patriot Sir, always have been, always will be. And I want a chance to earn back my name." Seale furrows his brow, sizing the man up. "If I put you on my roster officially, we'd be a Sivadian protectorate within a year. Even you have to realize that. So unless you have enough ships to defy the Royal Navy under that robe..." he trails off, his eyes squinted thoughtfully, as if not fully committed. "I've done my own bit in the defence of Sivad Sir." The word 'sir' does roll around his mouth as though it's not been used recently, "It's not widely publicised, but it can be proven. And besides, I have contacts in the Centauran Freehold. With a bit of pushing I might be able to have them throw their political weight behind our independence and perhaps even nominate us for inclusion in the Orion Army Treaty Organisation." He pauses for a second before clarifying, "No promises, these are just some thoughts that spring to mind." The taller Lunite emits a booming laughter, prompting the few in the cavern to look over towards the two. "Where does a man with as much blood on his hands as yourself get a foothold in the Freehold?" he asks as the laughter subsides. "You haven't shown yourself to be much of a political ally to anyone as of late. More like a lead sinker." The man waits for the laughter to subside, though he shows no hint of amusement himself, "Unlike most races, the Centaurans know I mean what I say. There's no lying to them, I wouldn't try." Subconsiously the man seems to be holding himself at his full height, "And they've always known I was innocent of the charges laid at my feet by the Republic, I've blood on my hands, but that blood goes back to the days of rebellions against Neidermeyer. The only blood I've spilt since then has been Nall blood. I'm a man of peace, a patriot and a soldier, the Xeter knows this and believes this. And if you doubt it, the next time I can arrange a meeting I invite you to join me." Seale purses his lips, his head shaking slightly from side to side. "If you wish to speak with the Xeter about our admission into OATO, I will not attempt to stop you. However, your political capital in the Orion Arm is such that I really can't be the one sanctioning this or giving you the ability to speak for New Luna. Our world lies in such a fragile state between two empires who have reasons to take us over. We must tread carefully. If you are good to your word, and can clear your name in the political arena, I would be happy to have you as an ally." The lunite nods to himself, obviously thinking. "I need more than that. I'll approach the Freehold about a proposition in my name as acting ambassador for New Luna to the Freehold to admit New Luna to the Orion Arm. We won't announce this until I can convince the Freehold to make the announcement on their own, then you simply endorse it and get the backing of the council. If you have to, inform them beforehand. But the Freehold will know if I don't have legitimate authority." He quirks a smile up at the man, "You're not going to get a better offer, nothing to lose if I fail, everything to gain if I can pull it off." Seale sighs softly. "I still lose if it gets out that you're my acting ambassador. And the Centaurans aren't necessarily known for keeping other people's secrets, only their own." He grits his teeth, his eyebrows low, almost feral. "Fine. I will give you ambassador status in exchange for your DNA. If you disgrace this planet or send us into war, I want some way of knowing that the corpse the bounty hunters lay before me is the real you." The strange reverberating sound seems at first to be a distortion, it then becomes clear the rebel leader is laughing, and then grinning offering his hand, "Done and done." There's a small pause followed by a knowing look in Ryan's eye, "And you'd be surprised how good the Centaurans are at keeping secrets when they have to." Seale closes his eyes for a moment, lets out a long sigh, then extends his broad hand down to the alternate Lunite's and clasps it in a shake. "Let's hope so, for both our sakes," he mutters tersely. Jeff Ryan just holds the hand for a few seconds and then lets go, "I'll see how the Centauran's take it and let you know. We'll proceed from there." He adds, "And Sir, I know how slippery politicians can be, I know I've been there. If I can do this, I don't mind sharing the glory, but I need, not want some of the credit. It's going to take some time to clear my name, perhaps never as white as I want it, and this could be a good start." "I'm not convinced you can do this in the first place," Seale says frankly, licking his lips. "Let's jump that hurdle when we come to it, eh?" "I expected that," replies Ryan. "But I look forward to convincing you otherwise, I'll stop by your medical facilities and leave the required... donations before I head offworld." Seale bobs his head gravely, like a man being led to his execution. "That is acceptable. Do not fail me, Jeff Ryan." His eyes are hard, cold, his hands balled into fists, knuckles a cream color against his dark skin. Jeff Ryan nods his own head in reply, "We'll talk soon." He gives a small bow to the elder timonae also before he quickly turns and heads in the direction of the Street. Seale takes a deep breath in, and lets it out slowly as his eyes follow the other Lunite. "Dear God, what have I done," he whispers.
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