| abstract
| - The Marines have settled in, once it became clear that the Sith weren't about to just go away. They treat the duty of babysitting the Sith landing zone with characteristic stoicism. Not only do they watch all of the visible goings-on of the LZ with a certain detached air, but they seem to be taking concern with the possibility that someone just might do something rash to the Sith vessels. As if that wasn't the last thing the CDU needed. And so, this part of the starport has sprouted its share of drab slate-green infrastructure, popping up overnight like mushrooms appearing in turf. Across the tarmac, Marine Captain Webb emerges from a prefab shack that has been set up for certain command and control functions, and strides across the tarmac past the bow of a serious-looking Marine Main Battle Walker that appeared with the various sensors, barriers, and other goodies. He dons his helmet and seals it, immersing himself in his suit's sensor-enhanced vision. He halts his approach 10 meters shy of the shuttle, comes to an at ease posture, and waits patiently. Inside the shuttle they waited, the Sith. Malign had taken extra care to pass the time, reading ancient scrolls, and meditation were excellent ways to pass the time in-between the long waiting periods for the CDU government to get to them. He understood their fear, but in some ways he was here to put an end to it. However, in other ways he wanted to install new fears and complicate the matters by making it gray where black and white use to exist. The ramp of the shuttle lowers slowly with a light thud and at the top standing wrapped in his black garb and surrounded by his droid protectors was Malign his hood hanging over his features he maintains an aura of royalty. He stands proud with his back straight and the red photo-receptors of his droids doing their duty to be intimidating and stoically silent, "Have you come with news?" he simply says stepping around his would be protectors and marching down the ramp of the shuttle with his heavy cloak dragging silently behind him. He silently and gracefully closes the distance between him and the marine Captain. The local merchants know things are happening, and while some of them have chosen wisely to remain out of the military's way, and to stay the hell away from the Sith, there are a few for whom the prospect of profit outweighs good sense. Thus, a droid who was not briefed on the situation is approaching the clustering of tents, and the spacecraft with the ominous feel to them, with a small holoprojector rotating the business logo of a local buffet restaurant. - Axel had spent his days, when he could, outside the shuttle. Usually on top of the fuselage, flaunting his presence. Cigarette butts littered the tarmac near the small shuttle from where he had spent long hours basking in the air and sun of what he still considered his home planet. He knew he wasn't welcome here, but he had hopes of one day changing that, of giving Caspar back to its rightful people and removing the usurper from his mount. That time may come, but it wasn't going to be anytime in the near future. When the ramp lowers, Axel awakes from a daze, completely unaware of the approaching marines until Tyler speaks. Before Tyler gets out his last word, Axel had hopped off the top of the shuttle and onto the ground, using the sloping front canopy as a makeshift ramp. "I sure as hell hope so," he says to Tyler, as he gains his footing. While he didn't mind the company of the Sith so much, their constant presence still had an effect on his emotional well being. (speaking in Basic) As with all visitors, the droid is met by a modest swarm of Marines who set to methodically determining that it is in fact merely vending food, as opposed to being some manner of ambulatory warhead. Sentients of a more organic nature have been receiving a similiar treatment. The droid's arrival is not COMPLETELY insane - the Marines have demonstrated their occasional willingness to forgo various forms of preserved rations in favor of real food. Meanwhile, Captain Webb has straightened to attention, the gesture belying reflex more than real intent. The gaze of his faceplate has fixed to face Malign, discounting Axel's approach. "Yes sir," he answers, his voice settling into an even, sedate tone, though in all honestly his heart rate quickens just a touch somewhere in that armored shell of his, "The answer is... no." The droid rapidly puts together what's going on. Marines are guarding/watching visitors to the planet that are likely highly unpopular and probably very dangerous. Ah well, that doesn't directly impact the machine's ability to sell manwiches to large men in sensibly designed armour. We're looking at you here, Empire. HM743 turns up its audio pickup, hopefully to garner more information on what's going on, as it takes orders, and sends them back via radio to the business currently paying its rental fees. Malign's expression does not change as the verdict is passed to him and his associates. What does change is the temperature as the Sith's aura begins to spread out around his body chilling the air as he breathes it can be seen more clearly than before as the molecules in the air around them begin to huddle together. Slowly he turns to Axel who was nearby and takes another smoke from his procession with a light gesture of his hand and then lights it to take a long draw and exhale slowly, "Well met." He says simply. The cold blooded murderer in him firmly believed he could kill all the marines in here, he did slay every living being in the Imperial Palace on Dreven and encased the former Emperor, Malus, in carbonite and there had been royal guards. "Fear and a good memory, it serves smaller governments well, but can also close doors and opportunities in the future. It would seem apology not accepted." The Sith Lord finally allows himself to smile after another drag on his smoke, "At least we were not blasted from orbit." He turns now, "Come Vichten, our hospitality and friendly faces are not welcome here, talk to your two Admiral friends through long distance communication." He waves his hand dismissively his cloak coming to wrap around him more firmly. "No doubt you trust the Republic, but remember this, they are exploiters." He pauses walking, "I know I use to be one." He turns and shrugs, "They may act friendly and come give advice, but rest assured it is to do the same thing the Empire does, Captain, keep your government down and to dominate it, if not politically economically. Why would a government send Jedi as ambassadors if it was not a display of power?" he laughs now, "Their stench is all over your world. What we offer are secrets and information to give the CDU the footing they need to carve their own path and assurances and mutual protection. The New Republic is right to fear your government it has lasted this long in a galaxy at war, and they are right to fear my people as well because we like to find the strong and make them stronger." Malign marches himself back to the ramp his own guards meeting and surrounding him, "Tell your leader we are still open to talks. We can meet anywhere at anytime, but it would be in his best interest to hear me out, no doubt the Empire still has its eyes cast over these worlds." HM743 really hopes that Caspar isn't trying anyone who isn't, well, Caspar. Because everyone must look out for themselves, and in doing so, tend their own interests in ways likely to compromise the interests of others. Damn, these guys order a lot of fried vegetables. Some of the marines order nice, healthy meals that the restaurant really doesn't make much money on, they greatly prefer selling things that are cheaply and easily prepared, and cholesteriffic. The machine's consience, though, is pleased with such orders. - Axel had figured as much. Would that stop him from coming back? Not likely. There were enough landing pads, both public and private, and enough legitimate freighter jocks with clearance that he could sneak his way back onto planet somehow. It was just a matter of when to do it. He had business to take care of on Caspar, after all. It was time for a gathering, followed by a trip to the hazardous world of Olumekar. The only ship capable of sustaining the ionic storms in the planet's atmosphere, at least at the Olumi Osahn's disposal, was stuck on Caspar, along with several key members of the ancient cult. Axel looks from Tyler to the marine captain and gives one of his signature 'go to hell' looks. "I figured as much. They're afraid of us. No reason to be, we're here on a peaceful mission, but all the same, they fear our presence." He sighs, stopping to light up a cigarette, blowing a thick cloud of smoke in the general direction of the marine. He was completely aware of the chilling aura that Malign's body seemed to broadcast, but he paid it no heed. After all, enough time around a pissed off Sith and one gets used to some of the minor things. "I believe the Caspian Dictator has in his possession a ship of mine. Let him know, I'll be back for it." With everything said and out of the way, Axel gives a nod to Tyler and then turns to where his fighter rested. Picking up a comlink off his belt, he communicates to his two wingmen in the shuttle that it was time to lift off. A moment later, a pair of Sarians emerge and walk to the matching Z-100's while their boss makes his way to the heavily overhauled Headhunter II. "We'll be back," Axel says to the two men in their native Sarian tongue, "though next time, it may not be a mission of peace." (speaking in Basic) Webb is not by nature a political animal. Quite likely, the face behind the armor sports an expression every bit as impassive as the armor itself. Does he trust the Empire? No. The Republic? No. The Sith? No. The CSA? No. Just the Marines. So there is a palpable sense that lecturing to him on such machinations is a little like looking up at the sky and presenting it with a carefully worded treatise on why it should stop raining. He stands there patiently, letting the visitors vent, carefully avoiding the temptation to respond to Axel's barbs and bluster. "Stand by," says the Marine significantly, reaching up to touch the side of his helmet. The droid transmits off all of the orders, and wonders to himself who the sinister person who flagrantly defied the laws of conservation of energy thinks he was fooling. The droid spotted the temperature shifting around him, and immediately marked him as a hostile Force user. There are a lot of skeptics out there who do not believe in such things, the droid is not one of them. The Force produces measurable changes in levels of measurable energy types. And thus, it is as real as hyperspace. As for the blue-eyed person with the fairly good dye job, the droid doubs he could have been more obvious without a holoprojector to provide a large arror over his head that flashed the words 'Enemy Of State'. The Dark Lord gestured toward the control panel that closed the shuttle ramp as it began to rise sealing him within once again. He would not bridle Axel Vichten, the trip in a way was therapeutic for him and was a good means for him to throw his own frustration to the ground as well as foster more hate and anger. Malign strides through the shuttle and takes his seat in the cockpit. He keys the engines to begin their warming cycle and signals for clearance to takeoff. The sleek Imperial designed shuttle's engines begin to cycle and hum to life kicking up small particles and debris not held down by the rain. "Alert my Star Destroyer of my arrival." He says politely to his copilot who gives a nod and transmits a tight beamed transmission off into space, his ships were on standby waiting and on high alert. No, no was not an answer a Sith liked to receive but there will be other times and the armor of the CDU did have its holes. It was only a matter of time if not diplomatically there would be other measures and means, like it or not, the Sith were interested in these worlds and this government. - Like the Sith, Axel was not going to take No for an answer either. He would have to bide his time. Even upon arrival, the fleet patterns were noticeably different than when he trained with them. He'd have to do his homework, fortunately, the Caspian system still held many allies of the Dark Priest of Olum. Stepping up to his ship, he turns and gives one last look towards the marines. He had enough firepower on his one fighter to level half an enemy base, the problem was that he was sure the CDU was on a raised alert level and he'd never get out of system. No, now was not the time. Taking one last breath of real atmosphere before his long trip in the confines of the fighter, Axel plots his revenge. "Let's go," he says to his two wingmen, who were already climbing into the cockpits of their Z-100 Centurions. He then turns and climbs in the cockpit of his own ship, the Chimaera. Unlike the Sith, Axel had no desire to chat with the towers and request authorization for takeoff. With a hotboot to the engines, the sleek and agile superiority fighter lurches off the ground. The repulsors only stay on for a moment, before the pilot engages the thrusters. It was an illegal move in any starport to do such a hot takeoff, but what did he care. Following suit, the two Centurions take off as well, though without the speed and grace of their point man. All three fighters scream through the atmosphere at top speed, a speed unparalleled by any standard Centurion fighter. (speaking in Basic) With various snits and temper tantrums now well in progress, and everyone in such a hurry to leave, it might stand to reason that it goes entirely without notice that an entirely different voice has begun to issue forth from that speaker set into Captain Webb's helmet - a lower voice of a more gravelly texture, and a few more decade's experience. "Hello? Hello," the voice is one that should be eerily familiar to anyone who pays attention to the Union News Service... less so to those who slavishly follow IGN. "Damn it. Can they hear me Marine?" "Sir. Afraid not, sir," intones Webb openly, his voice varrying a palpable hint of a smirk, "They're an impatient lot, sir." The voice pauses contemplatively, then says with mild irritation, "Yes. I can see that, Captain." HM743 scuttles towards the door, passing the security checkpoint at the speed chosen by the Marines operating it, and heads for the restaurant to collect the food, which is cooking at that very moment. The droid wonders if that kind of takeoff habit will get a missile up the blonde with the dyed hair's engines someday, and finds that thought vaguely amusing. What a way for a fighter pilot to go. The Shuttle sits on the tarmac as Axel's fighters blaze off ahead of it. Leaning back in his seat Malign continues smoking his borrowed smoke from Axel Vichten feet kicked up on the controls, smoking did a lot for his emotions and was a nice way to kill the edge. Hazel eyes shift over to his copilot, "Once approval is received take us up slow. Unlike, Mr. Vichten we'll respect the local laws." He smirks, "Bring me something stiff to drink." Parts of Malign's old persona had never completely left him inside he was still a drunken bruiser that had flown on all sides of the war more than once and had seen the great defeats and victories on both sides of it. There was a lot of Damion left in him and his Sith training would never fully drown him out. An droid brought him a drink, whiskey, perfect perhaps droids did learn. After a few beeps on the console he nods, "Take us up." After several moments the shuttle's repulsors pushed the vessel off the ground and allowed its S-foils to unfold as the nose of the ship oriented on the heading and vectors instructed from the towers. After a few moments the two rear ion-engines engage pushing the ship slowly and steadily off and into space. Malign shrugs, "Well mark that one off the vacation spots for a few more months." He muses and keys a private com to Axel, "Vichten you still in system and want to perform your role as an escort, or be childish and leave the system and my shuttle unprotected?" - "I'm still in system," Axel replies over open communications, not bothering with the encryption protocols. "I don't care who's flying it, I wouldn't put that bucket of bolts against a squadron of Centurions." And it was true, as soon as Axel had left the atmosphere, showing his proverbial ass with the launch, he had gathered his senses and ordered his men to pull back on the throttles and await their ward. The three ships hung in a low orbit, listening to the communications and performing passive sensor sweeps of the system, committing every ship, along with its location to the computer's memory core. Their positions would no doubt change, but the fleet composition was likely to stay the same. "Just let me know when you're ready to go. I'll escort you back to the Predator, then I have some things me and my boys need to take care of. Vichten out." Still, he maintained open communications, as if hoping the CDU fleet would take his transmission as an implied threat. (speaking in Basic) Briefed to expect such antics as Axel's, the tower manages by way of a flurry of quick instructions to avert possible mid-air collisions with the streams of incoming and outgoing traffic. Meanwhile, as Tyler's shuttle is awaiting clearance to depart, Captain Webb is on the comm-channel to have said-same clearance delayed. After all, he has his Commander-in-Chief linked directly into his sensors and comm. It wouldn't do to appear lax in initiative. The departure controller, for lack of better way to put the Captain's surreal instructions. "Predator 1. Predator 1. The uh... Interim Presav seems to be... waiting to have a word with you." And no, Axel's scans are unlikely to reveal the presence of each and every ship, let alone commit them to computer core. Star systems are big things, and not every hull up there is radiating 'hey look at me'. Some of them might even be actively trying to foil detection and minimize their passive signatures. Some of them might even turn their jammers towards Axel's flight and light them off if it seemed Axel were getting too nosy. "Stand by Axel Vichten." The Copilot of the Predator 1 says sternly as the shuttle seems to slow completely and hover in space just outside the atmosphere of Caspar. Malign slides the whiskey and things out of sight and extinguishes his cigarette the old Corellian does a number on himself cleaning up and straightening up before signaling his copilot, "Affirmative, control. Predator-1 ready to accept transmission or receive new coordinates, seems there was a bit of cultural lag there." He smiles nervously. Certainly not diplomatic lingo but enough to put anyone at ease he was a green pilot from Corellia given shuttle duty to a very powerful galactic figure. The Sith Lord enjoyed hiring Corellian pilots, he was after all one himself. He nods, "Turn our nose around and await further instructions, tell the Predator to standby the game is changing." He says coolly, the shuttle handled all the communications restated its positioned informed Vichten of the situation, "Maintain escort position around our shuttle until we are given our new instructions." The Sith would need to exercise the patience he had instructed his apprentice to. - It was true, passive scanners had an even shorter range than active scans, and there was no way Axel could get full scans of every vessel in system. But there were visuals and the ships in range got committed to the core memory of the fighters, as did any ground sites within sensor range. "Acknowledged," Axel says over comms as his droid beeps a few times to make sure he was paying attention to the broadcast. "Alright guys, lets take up defensive position around Predator One," Axel says into the comms. The two Centurions bank and dive into flanking positions beside the shuttle, while Axel does a fancy aerial maneuver as he re-enters atmospheric conditions. Eventually he comes up from underneat the lambda, and takes the point position, completing the triangle. There was little protection aft of the shuttle, but with the CDU unaware of the fleet position of the Predator and Dark Offering Battle groups, Axel had hoped the CDU wouldn't be brave enough to attack. "I guess they decided to talk afterall," Axel says over the encrypted channel this time. "What do you think changed their mind?" (speaking in Basic) Ah, the life of a starport traffic controller just doesn't get much more interesting than this. Suddenly he's clearing ship after ship to give the Sith shuttle an approach back to the same landing pad as before, where Captain Webb waits. And has he waits, he settles into an approximation of an at ease posture... though the toe of his right foot taps the tarmac in mock-impatience, to the unfortunate amusement of some of his Marines. But as the Sith shuttle returns, so does any whimsy as all of them go back to their 'game faces'. The droid id shortly scurrying back, carrying two llarge thermal cases, and one smaller one. Of course, now that the shuttle's on its way back down(it's a good thing fuel's cheap these days), the Marines lunch might have to wait. The shuttle returns to the same starport and settles down again going through its cooling cycles. Malign sits inside for a moment letting the shuttle fully power down before the ramp slides open his escort moving first this time and positioning themselves in two crisp rows to either side of the ramp to await Malign's reappearance. For all he knew this was just one more no and maybe a never come back from the leader himself. He chuckled inward at the notion he just turned his shuttle all the way around to here one more no and an idle threat, naturally if that was the case his patience would be pressed to an edge that only destruction could quench. After a few moments Malign reappears at the shuttle entrance and marches down the ramp through his escorts but chooses this time not to close the distance. He waits now for the message, pulling his hood from his head and letting his moderately long black hair fall down around his shoulders, traced with the gray of age. He lets the Force listen to the moment stretching it out over the starport to pick up on all the inside jokes and mockery he and Axel had dropped on themselves. He never worried too much about such things; he was a drunk long before he was a ruler of the galaxy. - Axel wasn't in such a good mood as the Sith Lord. As the shuttle settles into place, so do the three fighters giving escort. "Stay tight, gentlemen. R2, keep my fighter prepped. I have a feeling this isn't going to last a very long time or it may be a trap." He awaits for the acknowledgement and when they come, he pops the canopy and climbs out. He only stops for a moment to light a cigarette, before closing the distance between himself and the Sith Lord. "How long before they kick us off planet?" Axel asks in an almost joking manner, though the look on his face would suggest he was in no joking mood. "This is either a trap or some kind of stalling measure. I've got my men on standby just in case." While he was quite sure Tyler could take care of himself against a few marines, he wanted to make sure they could still get off planet, or at least to orbit if a battallion showed up. Besides, Axel was not the fighter that Malign was, and if a fight broke out, he'd much rather have a chance at hopping in a combat ready fighter than having to pull the small hold-out blaster from his sleeve holster. (speaking in Basic) In his customary position, standing 10 meters from the foot of the ramp, is that same daft Marine Captain. He slips to attention as the ramp drops. Beneath that helmet, he's somewhat bemused by he role that he's about to play in all of this... while many of his Marines are themselves grimly amused at the role their Captain is going to play in all of this. Eye to sensors, there is just the briefest silent pause, before Mahon's voice slips through the speaker of Webb's powersuit. The Old Man, as they call him sounds tired, yet gruffly matter-of-fact, "Hello, Mister Damion. Lovely night, isn't it?" Malign's eyes seem to lighten up as humor leaks into his normally cold and hate filled exterior. He steps forward and smirks toward Axel giving him a light shrug, irony, something he was use to in this galaxy, "Mister Damion." He repeats and nods to himself, "You know Mahon, there was a time when I was a lonely old Private Investigator and was doing some work on this world, years ago." He chuckles to himself, "The nights are much the same, cold and raining. Remind me to bring you some brochures for a few beaches on Corellia where we get a fair dose of sunshine." His voice was cordial but he avoids making it a friends call. He tightens his cloak around him as the rain continues to pound around him, "Apparently I have caught your attention, that is good." He says quieter now closing the distance between him and Webb, "I do not blame you for questioning my motives, after all I was a sick and twisted Warlord who managed to take control of a fair part of the galaxy using an Imperial War machine." He sighs, "I wish I could say we all make mistakes, but mine seem to shine a bit more proudly than leaving the oven on or not wiping my feet." He smirks being mostly honest, "I've found a new calling in life and that is to help those caught in between the Galactic Civil war by helping them give it back to both sides and helping governments such as your own find breathing room to exist in a galaxy torn apart from war." - 'I just want my ship,' Axel thinks to himself, but remains quiet. Besides, that wasn't all he really wanted, and everyone knew it. He takes a long drag of the cigarette, doing his best to keep it dry. No, there were many things he wanted for Caspar and himself, only now was not the time to speak them. As the voice of the man Axel calls the 'Usurper' booms over the speaker system, a nasty looking snarl crosses the pilots face. There was so much that Axel wanted to say, and it was apparent from the look on his face, but he remained silent, at least for now. (speaking in Basic) "I've seen those same beaches. Good real estate. Don't think the present owners would take well to me dropping in though," comes that weary, ageless voice of a man bearing a particular responsibility that he never particularly wanted. It's surreal in a way, for the voice tone so does not seem fitting for Marine Captain Webb's mannerisms. The voice, in particular, really wants a good stiff drink. "It's not like I have the legs for swimwear anyways," the voice quips evenly, before seemlessly sliding into the matter of Tyler himself. "You do have a way of getting attention Damion. I admit... I'm intrigued, yes. About a lot of things." "We're both old warhawks, Mahon, we both are tired of a lot of things." The Sith replies smoothly, "Cochran set a lot of my senses straight, a lot of former Imperials such as Fleet Admiral Honos who resigned following the ordeal. Of course I stayed on long enough to have Danik Kreldin executed." He shrugs, "Now I do my own thing with a few familiar cohorts, we're not very friendly with the Republic or the Empire. Not a big fan of these galactic spanning governments anymore." He chuckles lightly, "I'd say we could learn a few things from you keeping your own Union of worlds together in troubling times like these. I am just interested in extending the branch to you, to drop a few past errors; if anything I did you a favor. You did manage to root out a few Imperial sympathizers from your government." He chuckled lightly, "And if you were smart the Republic ones as well. What I want is simple, to rebuild a cordial relationship with myself and associates and your government. I'm not big into elaborate treaties, more into a few firm handshakes and understandings. Possibly, some exchange of goods and information." He raises a single datacard from a pocket. - Tyler could talk of branches and handshakes and cordial relationships all he wanted. Axel wanted Caspar to be controlled by a Caspian, that was something Mahon was not. "I want my home back. You cost me millions in art, property, and hardware. I'm willing to push that aside. This is my home, not yours. You are an imposter, a person not of Caspia, not of its culture or beliefs. You aren't even legally holding office by Caspian laws." Axel couldn't stand by any more. If he ruined the whole ordeal, so be it. Tyler would very likely have words with him later, if not worse things. "I swore to protect this system and its people, to preserve its culture against enemies foreign and domestic alike." If Axel was looking to get his citizenship back, this was definitely not the way to do it. "You think of me as a criminal, and I am. You should see the same kind of criminal every time you look in the mirror. You nearly brought this planet to war with the Empire over what? A harlot non-Caspian you placed in the Diplomatic core when she couldn't hack it with NRI. You, Thomas Mahon, are the worse criminal to the Caspian people than I ever will be." (speaking in Basic) "I tried to minimize the whole practice of rooting folks out. Last thing the Union needed after the number you did on us was a witch hunt," answers Mahon evenly, his voice freed from the constraints of bitterness that many would harbor over such a history. The comment is followed by an audible sigh. And it's true, in the final analysis, according to any reasonably accurate history. There were no mysterious disappearances, no mass-arrests, no 'special' camps. A few of the most spectacularly corrupt went to prison, after meticulously fair trials. The rest took their example as a cue to reign in their inclinations. Coincidentally, Ernie Pallando hasn't been back to CDU space since. "Cochrane remains a spectacular reason as to why the CDU isn't part of the New Republic," intones Mahon, and it seems like he's putting a little special emphasis on 'New'. He served THE Republic once. This New one isn't it. The Marine turns his head slowly to look at Axel, finally, as if with a macabre curiousness. Tyler is by now holding that datachip. Mahon cuts in, "Captain. If you would be so kind as to accept Mr. Damion's gift." Webb looks away from Axel now, and hesitantly turns a hand palm up to receive the offered chip. Yeah, he can see through Webb's suit. The chip was handed over with relative ease the Sith watching the hesitation and enjoying every moment of it. His hazel eyes however turn toward Axel, "Vichten, I have had enough of your mouth for one day. It seems our host is much more tolerant of your ranting than I." he raises a finger toward Webb, "One moment Mahon, I need to take care of a something." The Sith turns his aura toward Axel as dark energy begins to spread over his cohort, "Axel I'm afraid I need to you to lay down, you seem to be losing all of your strength." His face twists into something that remotely looks to be concern as visible dark energy lashes out from Malign and leaps toward Axel to ensnare him and sap his strength, "Go to sleep my friend and we will talk about this in a few hours." He takes a deep breath and turns back to Webb, "Sorry, Mahon, there are some people who cannot respect a civil conversation." He says with a smile, "But you're right, I caused your people much too trouble. I just hope that this information can be the first of many stones to rebuild a layer of trust." He bows his head once, "As I warned your marines, I will say the same to you. Do not put your faith or trust in the Jedi, they have an agenda that is more violent, bloody and absolute than any Imperial one. Be on guard." - "You keep silent because you know it's...." Axel starts to exclaim before he loses train of thought. He turns to Malign, and that 'oh no' expression comes to his face. This wasn't the first time he'd pissed off the Sith by running his mouth, but this was the first time he had been told to go to sleep. Glowing blue eyes grow big, "No... No.." Axel says as the web of brilliance draws closer and entangles him. He loses the ability to speak first, probably the best thing, then the ability to stand as every ounce of energy is sapped from his body. Within seconds he collapses into a heap on the floor. Seeing what happened to the High Priest of their order, the two Centurion pilots power thier repulsors up just enough so that the ships move into a hover. There was little they could do, but they weren't sure if Axel were alive or not. If Malign killed him, then they may be next and it called for bugging out. One of the two pilots even has in his mind to raise his shields, as if that would offer some more protection than being in the ship in general. (speaking in Basic) "Mmm. Yes," agrees Mahon, to the notion that Tyler has something to take care of. The channel is silent for a moment, except for the occasional warble that infiltrates its way into the signal by virtue of Solusar's 'robust' elecromagnetic field and the storm overhead. That warble oscillates into an odd whine as the dark side energy seethes forward. The Marine through which Mahon speaks takes a reflexive step back, and yet... cannot help but be morbidly interested in that web which Tyler has produced. When it's all over, Mahon feels no need to speak of it. "Well. You won't see us flying their Phoenix anytime soon, I assure. But... you'll understand if my responsibilities don't allow me to trust you either in entirety. Which is a big part of why you were denied freedom of movement. That and too many folks know your role in Tracer's fall. In Vichten's case, I imagine no explanation is required. I suppose we can let Halwinder loose though." Not that Mahon particularly cares for Halwinder, so there's a touch of reluctance in his voice born more from knowing that he's going to find the results of his actions to be highly annoying than out of any real worry. Malign nods, "Indeed, I do not wish to harm anyone here." His hazel eyes drifting toward Axel, "He'll be alright; he just needed to take a load off." The Sith now turns away from Webb, "We'll be in touch Mahon, I might yet become a welcome face here. I trust my presence here will not be discussed with anyone representing the New Republic. There might be a very powerful response if it was, from the Republic, they may send their fleets here hunting for me. I guess I am wanted there." He shakes his head and waves a hand toward Axel's subordinates, "Come collect your priest." He says simply, "His droid knows the way home just strap him into his fighter." The Sith shrugs, "For now we simply represent Nar Shaddaa, that is the only official title we have, Solon, if welcome here can be our mouth piece. A crude mouth piece, but an able one, you can contact me directly." He says with a wave of his hand, "Enjoy the weather here, Mahon, I'll make way for you on a more beautiful world in time." With that the Dark Lord laughs and shakes his head and moves back to his shuttle and his awaiting honor guard who had stood stoically and immobile since the talks had begun. What Mahon would find on those files were records about the annexing of CDU, the plans and efforts, rather clean cut and in the end several objectives were achieved. Other information was encryption keys for several intelligence services, fleet movements, officers who resigned following Cochran, and all the details of the Battle of Cochran right down to flight recordings. The Sith sees his shuttle prepared for launch a second time. An aide waiting outside just incase the CDU marines had any items for the Sith. As... impromptu and bizzare as all of this has been, it is a touch difficult for the CDU to really prepare any sort of repayment. Cholesterol-laden food delivery from that strange droid that's been skulking about just doesn't seem appropriate. Indeed, perhaps Malign can take a little delight in the amount of sheer confusion that what has transpired will generate. "Well. That was truly interesting. Thank you for the eyes and ears, Captain," is the last that Mahon says. Webb simply stands there silently, watching the shuttle vanish into the clouds. The two Sarian pilots, wary of the Dark Lord of the Sith, wait until he gets back to the entrance of his shuttle before settling their ships back down. The Headhunter II lifts a bit instead, using repulsors to slowly slide closer to it's owner. The droid had spent decades with it's master and with his ships. The two sarian pilots climb out of their cockpit and do as the Sith says, collect their high priest and put him in the open cockpit of the ship. Then, the two return to their own. Unlike his master, R2-FU does not scream out of the atmosphere. He instead takes a very liesurely pace lifting off the ground, though still does not wait for ground clearance. The droid also does not take lead position in formation. Taking rear, with the pair of Z-100's slightly forward and above, the ship heads out of atmosphere into space. There would be no flashy moves, though neither would there be an escort for the shuttle. A casual trip through the common and clear space lanes followed by a flash of light and the dissappearance of the same three ships as they enter hyperspace. (speaking in Basic)
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![[RDF Data]](/fct/images/sw-rdf-blue.png)