| abstract | - Tyy'sun rests in the command chair of Remittance, the crew having been released to the crew lounge for a bit of R&R while the crimelord secretly meets with one of his most trusted Lieutenents. It had been some time since the last reports have come in from Gren Delede, but Eson was confident the man had followed his instructions regarding illicit operations on Corelia, in lue of the most mysterious and recent lockdown from Compnor and Corsec of the system. Much was afoot, Eson sensed, and he would know of the underhanded dealings that are behind the scenario. Scrat's presence is endured, the bridge crewer being a member of the family and allowed to stay on.. With patience, Eson awaits the arrival of Gren Delede. Gren steps onto the Bridge, dressed in his old flightsuit, the Lieutenant looks haggard, as if he has been up for days on end, which, realistically, is close to the truth. He nods his head to Tyy'sun, upon stepping in front of the command chair, the man clearing his throat. While he is covering it well, there is likely a sense of a man committed, and set upon a path that he cannot change. His single blue eye studies the Twi'lek for a moment, before he speaks. "Twila Virda has been captured by Compnor, Mr. Eson." A pause, and he continues, his face hardening. "But, I have negotiated for her release." Now, the question is. What did he sacrifice? Scrat just sits in his allocated chair, looking out of the large viewport of the Remittance. He was wondering what was going to happen as his commanding officer, Eson sent the rest of the crew down to the lounge. But then the turbolift opens and he sees Gren step out onto the bridge. The Bith just sits there and watches in anticipation. Gren mentioned something about Twila being captured. He did not like the sound of that at all. Scrat thought he might keep out of this conversation for as long as possible. The news does not elicit an immediate reaction from Eson, regarding Twila Virda. The crimson Twi'lek remains passive in the command chair, and steeples his hands and fingers before his face in though, elbows resting on the control panel arm rests beside him. After a few moments the crimelord speaks from the darkness of the gaberwool cowl shrouding his features, "Corsec is subject to interrogation by Compnor, it is the way of the Empire.. she will not talk. My concern is more to the nature of Compnors supposed knowledge of Maffi involvement within the system, and within Corsec and the Laran administration." a moment of pause, and then, "negotiated?" "The Empire has initiated a program to remove Maffi from the Empire entirely, Mr. Eson. If they are interrogating Twila, Governor Laran is sure to be close behind." A pause, and Delede glances in the direction of Scrat, for just a moment, before looking at Tyy. "I do not care wether she she will talk or not. She is a loyal member of the family, and she will not endure torture, if it can be avoided. If she does not talk, she will die, and that is not going to happen." Not now. Folding his hands, he closes his eye, as if steeling himself, before re-opening it, and staring into the shadow-shrouded cowl. "I have agreed to cease the syndicate's operations within the Empire. For the moment, it may be the entire Family's best choice of survival. We wish to expand into the Rebel's so-called New Republic, this is the perfect oppurtunity. Once the ISB has grown complacent once again, there will be rich markets, that have not been culled, to exploit once again." Well, he is going to try and spin it. Scrat was listening in on the conversation with great interest now. He had heard things about what had happened on Corellia but nothing in detail. He still didnt like the idea of harm coming to Twila. Nor anyone he knew. Perhaps he had been cooped up in the Remittance too long. He should probably get out and find out what happens first hand, instead of finding out from other various people that he comes in contact with. While Scrat's mind wanders, the conversation between the two still continues. He notices the glance that Gren gave him. Scrat barely looked away, mainly because he was rather interested in the conversation. Much like watching a holo-vid soap. He wasnt sure if Delede was convincing Tyy'sun though. His arguement was well enough. It just lacked faith on his behalf. Scrat just thought he could have placed more belief in what he does. The Bith shrugs mentally. Rage erupts on Tyy'sun Eson's expression, the cowl falling down around his neck and shoulders as the crimelord jumps up from the command chair, spittle flying witht he words, "YOU WHAT?!" Tattooed lekku furls and writhe in indignation at the thought.. "What powers has the council bestowed opon you to negotiate the Family's Galactic operations within the imperial underbelly?" Eson stalks the short distance between himself and Gren Delede, black gloved hands balling into fists, and blue/grey orbs displaying an outraged fire. "You dare!" The eruption causes little reaction in Delede, if only, because he has already had to deal with a Sith's spectacle in the past day and a half, and is simply too mentally exhausted to care much. His eye remains locked on Eson's face, and he is silent, as he studies the crime lord. "I did what had to be done to save a member of the family, and to keep the syndicate intact." And yes, there is no hidden fact about this particular member of the Family meaning more to Gren than most. "Did you wish to see everything destroyed, because the Maffi is too proud to step back? Or would you rather it be known that all of this talk of loyalty to our own is just that, talk." Finally, he straightens his back, and smiles coldly. "Kill me now, and I will die with no regrets." A flicker of his single eye to Scrat, and he adds..."You will make sure that Twila knows the sacrifice that was made in her name, Pledge. And that I died for her, and the Family." Scrat jumped rather high, as he did not expect the explosion from Tyy'sun. Now the emerald Bith didnt particularly want to be listening in on the conversation all that much. All this anger slightly scared the shy being as he prefered things go nicely. He was a pilot after all. A lover, not a fighter. Scrat noded an agreement to Delde's request. "Of course i will. Though i sincerely hope it does not come to that." Tyy'sun's black gloved hand shoots out to grasp at Delede's exposed throat, the boiling anger and passionate ire fueling his movements, and the darkside rearing its head within Eson's heart. How dare this Liuetenent take matters into his own hands, "You deem to lecture me on the integrity of loyalty and protection in this family, Gren? Do you take me for a fool?" he spits into the man's face, pulling him closer so that their eyes bore into one another, face to face.. only Eson's black gloved hand clenches tightly, playing out his ire, and cutting the wind from the Lieutenent's pipe. "There is also a hierarchy to this family, boy." Within that eye of Delede's Eson sees something that he has never known, yet only simulates for hismelf within the hierarchy time and again - that of love.. it is a powerful force, and it explains the actions of the liuetenent far more than the man himself could ever explain in words.. but it does not have the desired affect on the crimelord, who washes the blood from his hands daily in a ritual of walling off a blackened and hardened heart. The grip tightens.. "Twila knows the dangers of her position, took them willingly. The Entire empire is a thousand thosuand systems wide and containing a fruitful underbelly that makes us all secure and you dare place it opon a negotiating table like a bargaining chip in your personal sabacc hand!?" "I have no regrets." That is the simple statement that Delede chokes out, his eye remaining defiant, as that black gloved hand clenches around his throat. Even as the pilot's brain's cut off from oxygen, he keeps it's lid forced wide so that he can prove that he will not go to his death begging for forgiveness. If anything, Tyy'sun likely senses respect, but serenity from the usually somewhat ambitious, and sometimes overblown Lieutenant. He believes what he did was the right, and only option, and is prepared to pay for it in his own blood. Just as Scrat was about to ask something about Twila, he sees Eson's hand grab Gren's throat. It was about this time that Scrat thought that he would cower under the station that he sits at. For some reason, he didnt particularly want to witness a death in a hurry. At one point, the emerald Bith thought of making a run for the turbolift and hide on another level. Though he thought better of it as that would probably draw attention to himself. So he just sat under there and tried to block out the yelling. It wasnt working. "Then you are blinded and weak this day, Liuetenant Delede." snarls Eson. With great strength the throat of the man is released in the form of a viscious one armed shove. "The Empire is massive behemoth, its underbelly rife with hiding places and strategic alcoves, perfect for our affairs, yet our word is our bond, and you have spoken for the council in a most unfortunate way. There is more afoot between the Family and the Imperial forces than you know. You are /NOT/ A member of the Twi'leki head council! To cut loose from the entirity of the Empire is to cut our own throats, and you believe your actions are that of wisdom. Maffi would have rode out this scenario just as it has ridden previous charges from Government agencies. Now we appears as fools before a government that would just as quickly turn its head to our deaths as consume us alive - and all becuase you have shown them how weak we are, in the face of pressure, you have risked all for personal feelings and jeapordized an entire Family. And for what? To rush Twila Virda to a safety that was likely within our reach without such promises." "You underestimate their resolve, this time. These orders came directly from their Emperor." Gren says, looking up from where he has smacked into a bulkhead, and slid to the floor, thanks to that shove. Not one to stay beneath any man, the pilot drags himself to his feet, and continues to stare at Tyy'sun, fighting the urge to rub his throat, which is already beginning to bruise." Instead, he clenches his hands before him, folded tightly over his stomach. "I spoke directly to Darth Malign. He made it clear that they had tired of our interference in their systems. They will continue to work with us, in regards to hurting their enemies." A pause, and he adds, his voice raspy, as it has been since he was choked. "They go through Emperors like others go through elected officials. Soon enough, a new Emperor, with different views on the Maffi will allow business to return as usual." Scrat continues to hide under the desk. There is wisdom in Gren Delede's words, in spite of Eson's unwillingness to listen. But the Crimelord paces inspite himself, pondering the events as they have unfolded.. pondering an agnle that will bring some damage control, and still retain Maffi's integrity in the matter before the Empire. This is one nagging question, though, regardless of Delede's actions with Darth Malign. Who has betrayed the Family's interests to the Emporer? Rage wells up once more in Eson and with hardly a thought the crimelord whirls on the control pannel Scrat hides beneath, "Get up you sniveling Bith, I grow tired of weak backbones in my court!" he shouts, slamming a fist atop the controls, and shattering a few of the keypad relays. Another castigating gaze is then laid on Delede, "I will have your finger for this, Liuetenent, though your life shall remain in allegence to the Family. You career is intact, so long as you deliver to me the betrayer of our operations on Corellia. I shall see to the departure of Maffi's criminal operations within the Empire myself. Now place your hand on the desk. Pledge Scrat is going to learn the meaning of temperance and stoic duty today." A vibro blade is produced and laid on the control pannel, near the shattered keypad, presumably for Scrat. "I will begin my investigation into the matter at once." It's a simple, still raspy reply from Gren. The pilot's left hand is placed atop the flat desk, fingers spread. A single blue eye flickers over to Scrat, and then to the vibro-blade laying there for the Pledge to take. "I have already lost an eye, Pledge. A finger is but a scratch. Cut swift and true, that is all that I ask." With that, the Lieutenant looks into the shadows of Tyy'sun's cloak, as if trying to pierce the darkness, and see into the man, himself. Scrat hears the order from the angry twi'lek and jumps up doubly quick. His trembling legs threatened to buckle underneath him, though he perseveered to keep them standing. The washed-out emerald Bith looks at the vibro-blade, then at Delede. He was starting to wish he made a dash for the turbolift. How could he cut off a friends finger? Though he dared not defy Mr. Eson. For he liked everything on his body in the exact places it was. Scrat slowly, but surely picked up the blade and held it in his hands. Consulting Delede's advice, he lifted it up, so that the momentum of the blade would make it swift enough. Just at the peak of the swing. He realised what he was doing. There was no going back after this. He slamed the blade down onto the station. As if the Bith just went deaf, he watched the finger roll of the desk and drop onto the floor. He was completely unaware of his surroundings apart from the finger and his deed that he had just completed. Scrat just slumped into the chair and stared at the station for the next few minutes. The gaberwool cloak having fallen from the crimelord's face, Eson is inwardly impressed with Delede, as he normally is with the Liuetenent.. the display of sheer tenacity in the man is what makes him so valuable to this Family int he first plce.. today, above all other days, as the two lock eyes and Eson nods his accord and respect, and forgiveness to Delede as Scrat's vibro blade cuts home, Tyy'sun Eson knows that the made man is the real deal, and has always been so. "So be it." he says after the deed is complete. "Take the Liuetenent to medical, Pledge." instructs the crimson Twi'lek. Thoughts lead back to Malif, when that man's finger had been removed, and the subsequent fallout and the events leading up to that punishment. Malif had been a fool, and unworthy of his station. "Let us look forward to Twila's quickened release, and the betrayer of the Family delivered promptly to justice, my friend." says Eson. The Crimelord's rage had played out, and Delede's decision had been made.. the chips had fallen and now it was time for the Family to show its hand, and the Empire to show its own. With the cutting of his finger, Gren's face does harden, and his eye widens in pain, and perhaps, there is a small gasp of pain, but it is buried, beneath his own hatred, that Tyy can likely feel, as he returns his nod to Eson, before turning his head, and looking at the Bith Pledge. "You have done your service to the Family, Pledge. I thank you, Mr. Scrat." He then lifts his bleeding hand, and looks at the stump, before reaching into his coat, pulling out flask, and dumping an amount of whiskey on the open wound, causing another wince, and leaving some booze on the control panel, to mingle with the blood. With that done, he rips off his eye-patch, revealing the healed-over socket, and ties the elastic band around the base of the finger, a quick tourinequit. "I would prefer my own doctor take care of it, Mr. Eson. I have business to attend to, and a homecoming to prepare for." That hatred continues to fill him, as he speaks a final time, his voice raspy. "If Darth Malign betrays me, even the Sith Lord will feel what I can do." If services for the family are always like that, then Scrat was wondering where he went wrong to be in such an evil place. He didnt recall this being in the job description. "Thanking me? You people's views still elude me." The Bith vowed to himself that he would take a few days away from the supposed comforts of the Remittance. He was not sure how he was going to come back to this station in particular and not bring up his meals at the thought of this occasion. He makes to the turbolift as Delede's guide until he objects. Tyy'sun adds as Delede and Scrat depart, "As will he feel my own wrath, and that of all your Family, should betrayal be at hand, Liuetenent.. " the cloaked figure then turns away, to his thoughts, and to the viewport displaying the Bonadan system and the expanse of space. There is much to be done...
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