Theed Spaceport

With a nod and a grin Adrien acknowledged Silas' accepting his offer to join the crew before taking the brief pause in the conversation to look at the label on the broken glass. Whyren's. Or at least a very fine knock off, he had seen better work but not by much. Someone probably made themselves a pretty cozy profit off a case of whatever bottom shelf whiskey this was. It was a pretty simple con and easy to get away with, all it took was a single bottle of real Whyren's and a good front man. Something told Adrien whoever it was that pulled this one either didn't have one of the two or both. He chuckled to himself and dropped the piece of glass into his pocket before returning his attention to Silas who was talking about someone named Isabelle. "Isabelle?" Adrien asked just before the preacher went on to explain, he nodded in acknowledgement once again before adding, "Oh the smokin' hot redhead in her birthday suit? I saw her as I passed the medbay. Good to know, I'll talk to them to see what they can tell me, thanks for the heads up."

He watched Silas as Neassa passed them, the man seemed to admire the Mandalorian and it made Adrien wonder if they had known each other prior to meeting the crew, however unlikely that seemed given what he knew about the preacher. When Silas spoke up again and brought the conversation to his role on the crew Adrien didn't know quite how to respond at first, he felt that having a good man around regardless of his particular set of skills was a good thing. Adrien thought for a few moments on what to say before he began to speak. "You handy with a blaster and believe it or not I find myself in tight spots quite a bit," he joked, "I can always use someone who can watch my back. So pretty much the same offer I'm going to make Neassa when I get a chance to speak with her." He paused and put his hands on his hips once again, as he looked around the hangar to see who might be around. "And despite what you may think now, we get into some pretty questionable moral dilemmas now and then, and my voice of reason is gone." His eyes turned downward, he was obviously talking about Connie at this point as his tone became more somber and his expression dulled for a split second before he recovered and returned his eyes to Silas. "That sound good to you?"

"They aren't all the same... I fought along side her on Etti... There is more to her then you are seeing."

The mark of a race is not weighed on the actions of an individual...but their species as a whole. Just as my ancestors before me, I too find humans as a whole...lacking." Said Jashin, a small hint of mirth in his voice. His species wasn't the only one with a distaste of humans. Indeed, a great many sentient species found the human race to be barbaric as a whole, more than a few not even half as xenophobic as the Firrerreo. "Add then that she is a force-user...I would hold no hopes for the two of us getting along any time soon." Finished Jashin, with a snort. True, Firrerreo in the distant past used to send their children to the order. More recent events - the traitor Hethrir - and the Empire as a whole had soured those days of halcyon past. Now, only bitterness and resentment remained for the Jedi.

"I'm sorry Jash... I will help, however I can."
She seemed worried, though over what Jashin could not understand. The hesitancy in her voice, and her stiff walk to the crates all pointed to some great discomfort. An alien mind looked at the problem, and only insight from spending time among humans allowed him to arrive at the answer. "You think I am upset over Poppi? He was not of my clan. Not of my species. Others will mourn his passing. I, however, shall not."

Going over his crates, Jashin eventually hit the button for the ship's cargo hold. And, he was about to turn to say something else to Sinina, when a voice from behind had him spinning on his heel, a hand on the butt of his blaster.

"Greetings, Sinjinn Rau, you are shielded from the wind, no?" The voice was clipped and stilted - Basic very obviously not the sentient's first language. A tall human, the being was dressed in a casual suit, an elegent armorweave cloak in the Serenno style draped about his shoulders. The man's skin was dark, nearly brown in fact, and he was advancing in years - maybe into his fifties in human terms. Despite this, the man was physically well fit, and his green eyes held a keenness and sharpness that showed the man was well at home in dangerous situations such as this. Indeed, the man's hair was pulled severely backward to be tied at the back of the head with a leather band - a common Serennoan military cut - which only deviated from standard protocol at the man's face, where a neatly trimmed beard flowed downward to be braided into a single graying strand hanging from the man's chin, tipped by a heavy golden bead.

At the sight, Jashin froze, ice running in his veins. Despite the fear - which he kept firmly behind his mental walls - Jashin crossed his arms defiantly, sneering at the man before finally speaking. "Sinina, if I may present Al Massat. Director of the Internal Serenno Security - or the ISS."

"That may be true.. But that doesn't mean every indivual acts according to said mark.. My sister Te'oma is a good example... She is Echani, just as I am, but she insists of wearing Beskar'gam.... why you would want to wear armour I will never know... "

"You waste your time, Sinina Riso." Said Al Massat slowly, gesturing to the indifferent look on Jashin's face. "He is Firrerreo. They judge by the rule, not the exception to the rule." Falling silent, the man slowly sat down on the edge of one of the crates that they had just taken inventory of, a cane in the man's hands coming to rest across his lap. "As for Poppi Pereau...he could have saved Sinjinn here over and over...but in the end, there is no tie that matters in the Firrerreo mind, other than blood and family. Is that not right, Rau?"

Jashin had been largely silent, but at the word "Sinjinn" he bristled and grew silver. "Yrak holtz!" The Firrerreese words sounded very much like a curse, even to those that didn't speak the language - and the rude gestured that Jashin followed it up with, also didn't really leave much to the imagination.

"Easy now, Jashin...easy. No need for all of that." Said Massat, patting the air, an easy smile on his face. Chuckling deeply, he shook his head hopelessly at the golden alien.

"Welcome aboard, Director. Can we help you?"

At that, Al Massat smiled broadly - the smile of a dangerous man who held all the cards. "We? No. Jashin, however, can help with quite a bit." At the alien's inevitable refusal, Al Massat raised a hand, slowly rising to his feet by pushing on his cane. "Now Jashin...let's not start that up, shall we? I mean really. Wanted for two hundred thousand in loan default by Zordo the Hutt. The theft of the Shard of Shiraya. Not to mention the entire fiasco in orbit: and we know all about that. I believe you know what I'm talking about."

"How could you possibly -" Began Jashin, before being cut off by Massat.

"No matter, the affairs of the Republic and the Order are, frankly, not any concern of Serenno." Massat raised a finger at that. "With the exception, of course, of what would happen if say, either party learned about said events. Knowing you, you've already calculated the implications of that. No?"

"...Yes. I understand the implications very well." Grated Jashin, fists clinched at either side, his skin silver.

"Excellent. Then consider yourself re-activated." Massat reached into his pocket, producing a thin card, setting it on the edge of the crate where he had previously sat, before walking out of the ship hold with no further ado. Before long, a non-descript speeder stopped, Massat climbed in, and then promptly left the scene. Leaving a rather stunned Jashin looking as if he had just been punched.

Licking his lips, Jashin walked over to the crate, picking the card up, before secreting it away to a pocket. Closing his eyes, rubbing his temples, he eventually turned to Sinina. "We...need to talk."

As Sinina walked forward, Jashin held up his hands defensively, walking backward - keeping the space between them. He had a fair idea what Massat had in mind, what with the whole "reactivated" bit. And he knew, then and there, that having Sinina around, no matter how much he may want her around, was indeed a very, very bad idea.

"You are going to try and send me away again?"

Jashin came to rest against the freighter's cargo hold wall, and, leaning against it, dipped a hand into a pocket in his jacket. A few seconds later, he revealed a box of tabac cigarras - and tapping the edge of the box, removed one of the cigarras before putting the box away. A simple chemlighter was next, a small incandescent flame lighting up the end of the cigarra as Jashin took a rather heavy drag on the cigarra, the tip illuminating briefly, before he exhaled a large cloud of citrus smelling orange-tinted smoke. These cigarras were rolled with Marcan herb - a favorite of Hutts - and one of Jashin's unhealthier habits that he had picked up while on the outer rim. Taking another drag, he ponderously considered Sinina, not answering the woman's initial question. Eventually, seemingly making up his mind, he pushed off the hold wall, practically stomping over to the bulkhead proper: it was only after closing the cargo hold's ramp and the bulkhead, sealing the two inside the cargo hold, that he answered Sinina.

"Alright. What I'm about to tell you? It doesn't leave this hold. I don't care if karking Luke Skywalker walks in with an army of Jedi selling Ranger Scout cookies. Ok? It. Does. Not. Leave. This. Hold." A brief pause, another drag on the cigarra. "That Massat, is a very, very, very dangerous man. And that man has something very large over my head now. Bigger than credits; more along the lines of something that seventy thousand sentients gave their lives for. Something that the Resistance and the New Order went to war for here in neutral space. And that thing, of which I dunno the specifics, is currently inside of my body."

A long pause, another drag. The cigarra reaching its butt, Jashin dropped it, ground his heel on it, and then promptly lit another one. "Now, Massat there, he just wants me in the service. I said I was a soldier, before, right? Well he wants me back in the employ of the Serenno government. Assassination. Bounty hunting. Asset "termination". That kind of thing. That's simple enough work. He'll probably give me a ship, and some weapons. That works in my favor. What doesn't work in my favor, is him tellin' the Order or the Republic the teeny tiny little detail that a memory crystal is in old Jashy's gut. Can you imagine what they would karking do? They wanted this thing bad enough to send entire fleets after this thing."

Another long drag - already the air in the hold was beginning to hang low, the pungent citrusy smoke beginning to sting the eyes. "Now...I'm good with many things. Weapons. Flying. Mechanical engineering. Interrogation. Slicing and encryption? Not my thing. That's Intelligence and Counter-Intel ops kark right there. Massat knows this, and that's why he figures it's a good leash on me. Which is why I'm going to go along with his merry plan...and you, Sin, are going to stay far away from me -" Jashin held up a finger. "- until, you find someone who can decrypt the stuff in my gut. I've heard good things about Adi, and my dad loved Raven. Someone in this group has to either know the Resistance, or be able to decrypt this kark."

Dropping the (now) butt of the cigarra on the ground, Jashin walked over to the cargo ramp, a hand hovering over the cargo door button. "And then, old Jashy boy can finally be free of this...mess. Savvy? My comlink is on that crate over there. It's linked to a comlink embedded in my greatcoat. When you find someone, comm me. I figure Massat is gunna have me do some work on Naboo in the interim. After that...well I need you to find someone by then."

"If all I need to is find a splicer... Why not walk up and ask Raven if she knows? Why not just come with me to the Inn and ask the group that is there if they know? Why do I have to stay away til I find out? If he is so dangerous, how do I even know you'll be at the other end of this when I find out?"

"Because we're being watched." Jashin said bluntly, watching as Sinina paced back and forth. "The only reason Massat showed himself is because he must believe he has the extreme upper hand. The second I leave this ship, every movement and every action will be watched and catalogued. Likely, he has been watching since I landed on planet. The group, though, is more than likely off limits to him. He wouldn't risk getting my father involved by attacking Raven Alora and Adi. Not unless he absolutely had to."

Jashin paused, then, before shrugging. "Besides. I don't have any resources at my disposal. If I can go along with Massat and keep his attention diverted, and get some resources out of it at the same time...then all the better."

"If I got closer, then it would force his hand. He would immediately take action. And, unlike us, he has had ample time to prepare for an encounter with force users. I wouldn't put it past him to involve the First Order in all of this." There was a long pause as she came closer and laid her head on his chest. He resisted the urge to comfort her: in Firrerreo culture, it was the male's part to come up with solutions and to protect his house. Weakness could not be shown. "This is the only option. Besides...I believe there may be something else at work."

"How... are you that calm putting your life in such danger? It sounds like playing chicken with the executioners guillotine...."

"On Serenno, our nobility is only nobility as long as they follow Noblesse oblige. "Nobility obliges". It means, essentially, that a noble is only a noble unless he acts like one. It has, no matter how much I run from it, always been my fate to serve my life to the people. Maybe it's time I start accepting that."

Jashin was quiet, then. The words had come from him without him really understanding where. But, in finding Sinina an acceptable sentient being, he had perhaps come to understand his family's desire to protect the people, from war, disease, and what have you - he likened it to the feelings he had for SInina. Was that, then, something so vile to run from? In the past he had never understood how a Firrerreo could so selflessly throw their lives away for their subjects. Whether it was toiling away at a throne, or serving as commanders in a war.

Perhaps he was a little closer to understanding it all.


Laying a kiss on the top of Sinina's head, he firmly, but gently, pushed her away - walking then to the cargo hold door, he hit the button to lower the hold's ramp before walking ahead, eventually to disappear into the city proper.

At first, Alora just sat there, counting the dead in her mind, before her instinct kicked in and forced the darker thoughts out of her mind. It was difficult- and dwelling on it only made the mark on her chest burn. She even thought she felt it grow a little more- like the night before. This trend didn't happen often, but it was becoming more common- almost to the point that Raven feared the darkness overtaking her before she could find a solution to the problem. Regardless, her mind turned away from the tragic events in orbit, to the stress rolling from the cargo bay. Then it struck her. What was she going to do with this ship? Maybe she should attempt to change the access codes and log numbers for the ship- at least so that it would appear to be ownerless...or she could just leave it here for the Authorities to come pick up. She wasn't quite sure at this point, but something interrupted her thoughts. Sinina's voice was curious, but also lingered with worry. Raven had been too distracted to dwell on what was happening in the cargo hold, but she could sense that it was very important, and very heavy upon at least Sinina's mind. Turning her head, she looked at the Echani, her small brown eyes still holding traces of the sorrow the events in orbit had grown in the Jedi Master's mind. But that was fading away, giving rise concern for the young Echani.

Sinina? She tilted her head, standing from the pilot's seat and giving the woman a small concerned frown. Given what had consistently happened between her and the Firrereo, Raven could only assume what was happening now. He's going off into danger again? She asked cautiously and shook her head. It's very difficult to see people we care about put themselves in harm's way, especially when no one can tell you for certain that he'll be alright. She closed her eyes, remembering the many times Gadriel had gone gallivanting off into danger- and, how she did the same thing to him. But one time Gadriel didn't come back- and she hoped it would not be like that for Sinina.

That does sound good, Captain. Silas nodded, visibly pleased that Draykon had placed the outlander in his good graces, and relieved he'd be able to stay. I'll do my best to uphold the good name of the Midnight Shadow, and I'll keep any pursuers in my crosshairs. His brow furrowed though in concentration a moment later, and he continued. Makes me think though, Captain -- fact is, I'm good with my slugthrower, but I'm pretty awful with an honest-to-God blaster. Balance and report of the shot -- 'kick' -- is all wrong. My 'thrower is a touch low on ammunition, and not a simple solution in sight. Could be I'd do well to pick up a blaster, and train some with it, so I don't find myself without a piece when the cards are down. Know if there's a merchant hereabouts? 

Following Adrien's verbal directions, and bidding his Captain a modest farewell for the time being, the outlander heads for the boarding ramp, spying Erly and Trent locked in what looks like serious conversation. Leaving them to their important talk, Preacher instead seeks out, and finds the only one he'd truly trust with such a thing. Moving silently to her three-o'clock, Silas clears his throat as he approaches. Neassa -- I wonder if you might... help me with something?