Ask Aftermath

Darius Gal

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When the Crymorah Syndicate wanted something, truly wanted something, they were extremely fast to move. Darius had been on Onderon because of the Senate proceedings because of the almost immeasurable amount of government data being sent about over the holonet. When the Senators chose a planet to hold a session on, literal thousands of aides and government officials flocked to the planet to support the proceedings. Hotels were packed, bars and cafes flooded with aides, ties loosened and shirtsleeves rolled up, to get an extra half-hour of work in while they choked down mediocre coffee and a wookiee claw. All of this data and information being sent over public holonet connections.

He'd been there to quietly snoop and see what information he could unobtrusively collect. Nor was he the only one. Where government workers went, spies followed. It was easy for Darius to remain unnoticed; it was hard to detect a pattern of the same person lingering around a certain group when he could take any face he wanted. All of that changed in minutes. There he was, taking an hour to decrypt and piece together data packets he'd "sniffed" over a public holonet connection, when his Pear Phone started having a notification seizure. Before he knew it, the Crymorah had acquired him passage on a luxury liner to Ord Mantell (how, Darius didn't know and didn't want to know), provided him with information, news reports, and access to a certain amount of credits. His orders were clear. The Syndicate was explicit in what benefit they wanted him to obtain.

__________________________________________________​

So here Darius sat lounging in a plush chair, swirling a crystal glass of scotch, while a lit cigar slowly smoldered in an ash tray next to him. He was dressed casually, if one could consider an outfit that cost hundreds of credits casual. His hoodie, which he wore with the hood up over his head, was of a gossamer black with gold stitching. It lay draped open, revealing a white shirt with the faintest herringbone pattern woven into the fabric. His pants, though casual, were clearly expensive and fit him perfectly. Even his boots, modeled after a working style, had rich color and a flawless polish. They had all been provided to him for the purposes of this conversation.

Getting into the private suite had been simple. No lock was unbreakable, and in factory produced luxury liners, even those like these, they didn't use the end-all military grade locks. After all, if there was a fire or accident, emergency personnel needed quick access. All it took was an organized distraction, a political argument turning dangerously close to a fist fight, to draw away anyone watching over the hallway, and he'd been able to slip in.

His phone buzzed once more, and he tilted his head to look at the message. "Drinks are over," it read. That meant the person he was supposed to have a conversation with was heading back to the room. Darius took a sip of the scotch to sooth over that one nerve that had been bothering him. He didn't have the luxury of a lengthy amount of time to absorb all the information and come up with a pitch or strategy. In the end, he'd decided to simply play to his strengths and not rely on any one thing. Keep it fluid, that's the best strategy he could have. As the amber, slightly peaty fluid trickled down his throat, Darius leaned back in his chair and turned on the lamp, bending the flexible stem and turning the lamp head slightly up and away from him, so that anyone attempting to get a clear look at his face would have great difficulty looking past the glare. And if they tried turning up the dim room lights to compensate, well, he'd taken care of that, too. Slicing and taking over control of the room lighting had been an almost effortless task.

A faint, rapid beep beep sounded from the door as it accepted a keycard. Darius slowly lifted the crystal to cover the lower half of his face, the finger's worth of alcohol left inside lazily sloshed back and forth.

Showtime.

@Charles
 

Phineas Hawthorne

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After the his grand shenanigan at the Senate meeting on Onderon, Phineas Hawthorne had tried making amends with not only his people, but the ISC President, hoping his 50k in credits would help save his skin for the reelection. Phineas took the time to think about his future career options in case he was out of the job, which the looming doom of such a travesty took it's toll on his stress. So, Phin took some time to himself to fly around in his GX-1- flying was always a good stress reliever, or at least it was for Senator Hawthorne.

After his little joy ride, he decided to head back to his suite, sweaty hand fumbled for his keycard as he approached his room. He needed to find a way to get Black Sun out of his planet. Their hands have sewn some serious corruption and money laundering that made Phineas's election as senator a big surprise. He was always super open about Black Sun and their problems, creating rallies after his long speeches on the tyrannical insurrection they have caused. They ruled the planet, and whoever argued differently was in for a few holes in their head. So, Phin thought that it was a test or some sort of ploy to let a potential somebody like Senator Hawthorne crumble from the Syndicates to make him look bad and to send a message to the entire galaxy that it didn't matter who were- Black Sun was going to come out on top.

Phineas saw the tyrannical acts they committed first hand- with the death of Maddz and his mother, to the murder and "suicide" of his uncle and cousin. They were always after Phineas- attempting to kidnap him or torture him, but he always had a way of getting out of bad situations and his trusty Python blaster pistol helped make sure of that.

When Phineas entered his room he couldn't get the lights to work. Phin narrowed his eyes in skeptical suspicion as he scanned the suite, finding a shady figure was sitting in his seat, drinking his long sought out for luxury drink he had been saving for a special occasion Phineas planned for a very special someone.

"Who the hell do you think you are?" Phineas quick-drew his Python and aimed it at the man in the shadows. "Stand up- slowly, and put your hands where I can see them." The thing was...Phin could actually barely see the man without squinting, but he didn't want to have the other guy think he wasn't willing to squeeze the trigger.

"You've got thirty seconds to explain yourself." Phineas demanded staying put right where he was- by the exit. If this guy could shoot, Phineas would be ready for it and leave the suite, waiting for backup to assist him. Who even was this guy? Why was he in Phin's suite and not someone elses?

Then it clicked- The Syndicates were surely behind this. Especially after the fool Phineas made of himself on Onderon.

Phin kept his eyes narrowed. He would not negotiate with terrorists.

@Clayton
 

Darius Gal

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An irate and alarmed reaction was something that was expected, given the circumstances. The appearance of a blaster, however, was not as welcome. Truthfully, Darius had expected a threat to call security rather than weapons being drawn. Still, he knew going to this, approaching the Senator in this manner, that he'd need to settle emotions, manage expectations, and let the Senator know that neither one of them had control over the other.

Darius gently set the crystal glass down on the arm of the chair, and splayed his hands wide in a gesture of peace. "Senator, please, does it look like I'm here to hurt you?" He said in a low, mellow voice, the same tone one might use to talk to a skittish bantha. There was a hint of an accent, too, one hard to place, but also not entirely unknown. "Pour yourself a drink, you look like you could use one," and with that he slowly placed his right hand on the bottle of scotch, left hand still open and up, and pushed the bottle forward, sliding it along the length of the long desk that ran the length of the wall, terminating into bookcase. "I'll admit this introduction was a bit dramatic, I'm sorry. As for who I am," he licked his lips, and wished that he could take another sip of the scotch to wet his mouth. "Call me a lobbyist. Lucien, if you want a name. And as for why you should put that blaster down...One, you don't need the scandal of having killed an unarmed man on top of everything else. Two, you have several problems that the people I represent can help you with. Killing me won't change that, but listening to me just might. Three, we have mutual rivals, in fact, you've led a stalemate of a political campaign against them."

He didn't rise from his seat, but he was guessing that Phineas wouldn't straight-up murder him for sitting in a chair. Darius did not have a weapon out, he was seated, and not making any threatening movements. But, also, he had little desire to move up from the chair and give Phineas an excuse to shoot. No "he lunged from the chair at me!" He dipped his head slightly. "At the very least, hear me out. Then if you still want to, we can revisit me getting the hell out of your room."

@Charles
 

Phineas Hawthorne

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Phineas lowered his gun, but stayed where he was. This guy was good, but Phineas wasn't an idiot either. 'Lucien', here wasn't just a lobbyist. His lights had yet to brighten and the comlink on the inside of Phin's left wrist had yet to call in any security. Whoever this guy was, he was good at his job. He looked at ease as he slid the drink away from himself, so Phin thought that there was no need to be overly aggressive. He'd play his game- for now, at least.

Lucien noted Phin's entire political campaign to get rid of Black Sun from his world and show the galaxy how small they really were when the people worked together to get rid of the thugs that have held his home planet for so long. If Phineas could actually successfully get Black Sun out of his home, it would send a message to the rest of the galaxy that it isn't impossible to fight back against the Syndicates. The end game for Phin was that by defeating Black Sun, he could go after the rest of the Syndicates with a greater and greater chance of driving them into the ground. However, this guy said that Black Sun was a 'rival'.

Poor choice of words. He thought menacingly as he holstered his weapon, still keeping his hand on the handle of his gun just in case. This guy was a fellow Syndicate member, so that must have meant that Phineas had two common enemies. Black Sun, and whoever 'Lucien' worked for- The Pykes? Probably not...this wasn't how they did business. The Hutts? Definitely not- especially after the recent execution, they'd have no one willing to cross lines like this. Crimson Dawn? Probably...they had been pretty quiet for a while now, so maybe this was their covert doing. Crymorah? Just as probable as Crimson Dawn, except they've been a little louder than Crimson Dawn, so it easily could've been them that sent Lucien. Phineas did need help, but he needed the right help. Honest help.

"Who's your employer?" Phineas asked. "Who sent you?" Phineas already had a good idea of who had sent him, but he wanted to play the part of the confused source. He took a few steps forward, hesitantly, as he tried getting a better glimpse of who was talking to him. "I'm sorry, but I can't even consider negotiating with you if you won't enlighten me on who wants me to work as a pawn for you and your superiors." Phin said with as much sarcasm and distrust he could muster. "Regardless of how clever you are, my reputation is as low as it's ever been- I might not even end up being reelected with the stunt I infamously pulled in front of the entire galaxy, so why are you interested in me and not some more prosperous runner up? I wouldn't be surprised if Black Sun was planning an assassination when I got home- so please, enlighten me on who sent you and why you want me, of all people."

@Clayton
 

Darius Gal

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They were getting somewhere. Phineas had holstered his weapon, and didn't seem to be calling for help or running, so that was progress. "Lucien" lowered his hands, resting them on the rather luxurious armrests. He briefly thought about purchasing one for himself - this model would make long hours sitting in front of a computer much more comfortable. It was clear that the gears were turning in Hawthorne's brain, and his words conveyed a solid grasp of his current political situation. "First things first," he said, raising a finger. "Where politicians go, spies follow." He reached for his phone, the screen brightened, reacting to the proximity of his hand. He quickly tapped a few icons, and a faint, electronic whine began to emanate from the device, at a pitch that was almost irritating, like the presence of a mosquito that couldn't quite be spotted. The screen darkened once more as his hand moved away. "For bugs," he explained.

"Pawn? Hardly. You're a Senator of a wealthy planet, not some muck with a gambling debt. You have a good grasp of the situation waiting for you back home, though I'm not sure if the Suns are at the kill you stage yet. And since we can be honest with each other...I work for Crymorah." The name lingered in the air for only a moment. "And we have a business proposition for you, one that can give you job security, resolve your Black Suns problem, and bring casino interests back into their place."

His palms briefly turned upward in a gesture of understanding and admittance. "I know, we're an undesirable group to a lot of people. So what? Identity is based on perception. We can be anyone," and with that "Lucien" leaned forward in the chair, bringing his face into light. Phineas would find himself staring at a very familiar face. Intense eyes, dark hair, and slightly pointed ears. The lamp, illuminating Lucien's face from the side, cast shadows over the other half of Emryc Thorne's visage. "The only question is," He said slowly, as his face began to shift and twist, the bone structure shifting, cartilage rippled under the skin in an unpleasant to watch manner. The grimace that crossed his lips conveyed that this was just as uncomfortable to go through as it was to watch.

The skin tone shifted, and the features settled into a disturbing mirror. "Who do you want us to be to you?" finished Lucien, staring back at Phineas with the Senator's own face. It was both a subtle warning, and a promise of untold possibilities ripe for Phineas' taking. The face began to shift once more as Lucien leaned back in the seat, retreating into the shadow beyond the lamp for a moment, before he reached out and turned the lamp to point down. The lamp's dramatic impact had been utilized, so now there was no reason to sit obscured. The face Lucien now bore was that of an exceedingly average man. Blond hair, brown eyes, mild complexion issues, soft nose.

"Your casinos make tremendous amounts of credits through what is essentially theft legalized under the illusion of a fair chance. It is inseparable from crime. You might succeed in rooting out some corruption, but given a few years it will return, the vacuum will be filled. You won't know who or how, only that once again the casinos are opposing you. I'm sure even now they're considering opening their treasure trove to the campaign war chests of whatever Senatorial candidate they like better than you," he began, pitching the proposition in careful earnest. "Your apology was an expected one, though the donation was a nice touch. We might even be so moved by your generosity that we're considering matching that donation to your own campaign funds. That being said, you still have the problem of casino interests and the Black Suns...who go hand in hand. We can, and would be very happy to pull the rug out from under both."

Lucien relaxed a bit, settling his hands in his lap, fingers intertwined. "To do that without resorting to...inconveniently loud and traditional methods, we'd need you to flex your influence. The Ord Mantell Gaming Commission is in charge of regulating and enforcing compliance within the casino industry. They have the wonderful power of giving surprise rectal exams to casinos whenever they please. We want a qualified candidate of our choosing to be placed on the Board. We can use that authority to identify the extent of the Black Sun's influence in the industry and deal with it." Lucien allowed himself a faint smirk at the combination pun and double entendre. "And, of course, guard against any attempted return, and send a message to the industry if they get uppity with you."

@Charles
 

Phineas Hawthorne

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Phineas leaned away from 'Lucien' after he admitted to working for Crymorah- how would he explain his case now? He should've shot the man while he had the chance, but it was all too risky. He would've shot an unarmed man sitting down in his seat, but now he was conversing with a Syndicate member. His people would think him to be not only a disgrace but a traitor. Phin flinched at the thought of being accused of treason if this conversation ever got put out in public- especially if Phin agreed to 'Lucien's terms.

Which he wouldn't.

Ever.

Then, Lucien began changing everything about his person...taking the appearance of Emryc Thorne himself. "How did you...what are you..." He gawked, but then his face shifted again, churning into someone very familiar. Phineas went speechless as he stared at himself. Out of horror, out of awe- this man was good. Fear left a bitter taste in Phineas's mouth. This man could simply kill him and take his place as Senator- so why was he bothering to 'help' him with his current predicament? This really was an odd meeting, but Phineas paid closer attention now.

After 'Lucien' made his case, Phineas thought for a long moment. He couldn't give in to fighting fire with fire when it was fire he wanted to get rid of in the first place. Even if this plan worked, Phineas would then have the crossairs of Crymorah on his back to deal with. He'd still end up a puppet either way and that wasn't going to happen while Senator Hawthorne was still alive and breathing.

"I'm sorry...Lucien, but I can't accept this offer." Phineas choked on his words a bit, still trying to erase the image of himself asking himself what he wanted Crymorah to be for him. "I promised the people I would rid our home of the corruption that has been growing like a well hidden cancer. Your plan is very full proof, I'll admit, but then wouldn't Crymorah end up taking hold of Ord Mantell after beseeching Black Sun? Wouldn't your people end up being the new Black Sun? I want them gone. I really do- but I need to do it the right way. I can't allow myself to become the very thing I swore to destroy. There has to be another way, Lucien. I'm not only after Black Sun, I'm after the similar corruption that plagues our galaxy." Phineas said earnestly.

There was a plan he had made a while ago when he was little, a symbol that haunted and hunted the bad men and women of the galaxy- not killing them, but using the same crippling fear they showed the worlds and turning it in on themselves. He wanted to make them be afraid of whatever symbol he became. Of course, that was when he thought he would be a Force sensitive and go to live off with the Jedi, but he soon found out he wasn't and was just another human boy who lived on the streets. It was a fantasy, but it would've worked if Phineas had the wealth he did now. Now that seven-year-old fantasy could be reality. Phineas was not willing to become a pawn to the Syndicates, but he was willing to follow them like a shadow and make them rue the day they decided to become scum bags and thugs. He had to admit, it was all a little childish, but Phineas needed to at least get it through to 'Lucien' that he desperately needed Black Sun out of Ord Mantell in some sort of galaxy far, far away from here.

He could self fund himself, but he'd need to be smart about how the money was handled and needed to make sure that no one caught on to mysterious money investments that would show up nowhere, as if he had blatantly thrown it away. He'd need to make sure that he could still act as voice for the people while also acting as the peoples' fists. It needed to be discreet. It needed to be- Phineas sighed, as he was already bending his beliefs. He believed in justice. He believed in liberty...Maybe this idea didn't fall so far from the tree as Phin had thought. He was, after all, going to be delivering both where no one else seems to have been able to do anything.

But could Phineas really do that? Live a duel life as some sort of masked-thug puncher and as a rich Senator funded by the slippery Casinos of Ord Mantell? Well...he knew he was willing to, at least. He knew this road would be long and hard, but Phineas could take it. He just needed 'Lucien' to understand that it wasn't about Black Sun. It was about corruption and crime in general.

"You asked me...earlier...what I wanted you to be...I'm still not sure- but I want you to be out of the affairs of Ord Mantell if we can't come to an agreement. However, I have my own proposal..." Phineas gulped and rubbed his chin a bit out of anxiety. "What if, instead of this covert coercion, we had just one man- one symbol -for the people to look to? What if this said symbol...went directly after Black Sun. He wouldn't kill them, but act almost as some sort of wraith or ghost. Someone who haunts them, makes them want to die but never gives them the option. He only lets them live with the reminder of how small they really are and gets the thugs to look over their shoulder not out of instinct, but out of fear- it may sound like a stretch, but hear me out. What if we made a vigilante? I can't help but feel that I'd end up a puppet to your superiors with the plan you explained, and I won't allow myself to do that...but I will allow the old idea that the Enemy of my Enemy is my Friend. If this is going to work, regardless of whoever's proposal is decided, we need to be on equal footing and I'd actually prefer you're Syndicate stopped calling themselves as such. With what you did to the Hutts, it's not giving anymore of those "Bad Guy" vibes you've had for so long. You're doing a service to the people of the galaxy- like a bunch of vigilantes.

"I don't know who this client is of yours, but I don't like the idea of them manipulating an official board the same way Black Sun has been doing it since before the Clone Wars. It makes you just as bad as them. I propose that we find someone who is willing to get their hands dirty while keeping their identity, their affiliation, and their sources a complete secret- someone they would never expect. Someone like...me."

@Clayton
 

Darius Gal

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Lucien allowed himself a small measure of satisfaction as his transformation had a clear effect on Hawthorne. As then Senator spoke, Lucien wasn't very surprised at the resistance displayed. If the Senator had acquiesced immediately, he'd have been suspicious of some sort of trick. This was a big ask of Hawthorne, asking him to bed down with one Syndicate to remove the other. It was only natural that he would tightly cling to his ideals. He continued to listen, and then slowly took a drink as the conversation took a very bizarre turn.

To say that Lucien was confused was an understatement. "That is...a lot to unpack," he said slowly. Did this...scrawny man think he was going to take on some sort of vigilante crusade against the Black Suns? He looked about as adept at combat as Lucien was. The other problem was the Senator seemed to be trying to arrange his own deal where he gained a clear benefit while Crymorah...gained nothing?

"No offense but...you're...Hm." He finally said after a lengthy pause, trying to figure out what the hell to say in response to Hawthorne's proposal. "You make an interesting point regarding Duro. We killed him, us. Not Crimson Dawn, not the Black Suns. That was us. But don't fantasize what we did. Do you know what we did? We slit his throat on camera and televised it for the galaxy to see. The era of the Hutts is over, and has been for some time. We televised Hutticide, formerly an unthinkable act, to no repercussion. We don't train..." He paused, thinking for some analogy. "Shadow jedi. That fate, Duro's fate, is what you will risk every time you put on whatever mask you get at the costume shop. You put yourself on the line, but also your reputation, and Ord Mantell's reputation, your office's reputation, on the line. What image would that be, the Senator Hawthorne, bloodied, bruised, bones broken, fingernails ripped off, teeth shattered, forced head down on live television and riddled with blaster shots...or worse?"

"The point of a business deal is both parties gain some benefit. Put our man, or woman, on the Board and we take out the Black Suns, keep the casinos in check for you, and you have the stability and peace of mind knowing that the people who are involved with the casinos are on your side. We take on the risk of loss. Something turns violent? You have no direct connection. Deniability. Well by the force you were right! Those Black Suns brought that to Ord Mantell so it's time to enact stricter reforms!" He exclaimed, tossing the idea out to Phineas with a knowing wag of his finger.

"Like I said, remove the cancer now, on your own, but it will return. Better the one you know than the one you don't. We get all the benefits that flow from that, not just the fact that the Suns are gone. If all we wanted were the Suns to be gone, we'd raid their dens, firebomb their speeders, gun down their dealers. We'd empty the casino vaults and pin it on the Suns."

Lucien shook his head, a confused expression on his face. "All I can see is your proposal puts us deeply in the red. I don't understand what we would gain from doing this...vigilante training you to fight dirty thing. No offense but...I mean...when was the last time you got in a fight? We'd be expending resources training you and supporting you in this role, for what, slightly less risk to ourselves? To have to do the job properly, ourselves, if or when you fail? We are not politicians, Senator, we don't care about which option is three percent less risky." And that was the real issue. Crymorah wanted something out of this. Ideally more than what they gave, but a roughly equal exchange wasn't off the table. They wanted something of value, tangible value, out of the Senator. True, the idea of letting some boy toy Senator run around trying to fight Black Suns was entertaining, but it was hardly enough to be acceptable to the Crymorah. "What we do care about is efficiency. It is efficient for you to do what you do well, and for us to do what we do well, and to allow those strengths to benefit each other while maintaining an appropriate distance. We succeed in our respective worlds because we've developed ourselves to suit the worlds we chose to live in. Crymorah wouldn't reach into your office to second-guess the wording in paragraph six, section three subpart g for legislation regarding...I don't know...hyperspace lane density regulations."

@Charles
 

Phineas Hawthorne

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And there it was, the crippling reality Phineas saw coming a mile away. He understood what Lucien spoke of, as far as the public execution went, but to his dismay his plan was out of the picture. Phin must have been daydreaming too long to forget that he was asking to learn how to fight properly, but Lucien's comment on when the last time Phineas had gotten in a fight got the skinny man to laugh. "Last week, before I was elected. Some thugs cornered me at a bar and ushered me into an alley- well, I'm here speaking to you, so I think I understand a little bit on self-defense." But his smile faded into a more thoughtful expression.

"But I understand your point of view. You and your people are business people, and I care about efficiency as well. Of course, with my little slip up that might be hard to believe. Honestly...I'm desperate. Desperate enough to sit down and converse with you without putting a few blaster bolts in your forehead." Phineas said every word as subtly as possible with his charming half smile that he used as a poker face. "With that aside, I want to make sure I can still make a difference to my planet if I end up not getting reelected- and I want zero interference coming from any of your people concerning that matter. If I'm to be reelected, it's going to be because the people want me. Not you." Phineas put little more emphasis on those last two words. He wanted to know his accomplishments would come to be by his own merit.

"I'm aware of the stakes I'd put myself in, but if I had the proper...training, as you put it, I wouldn't have to worry about anything happening to me. I'm confident in your abilities, Lucien, and I'm very aware of the power your people have. I watched it myself after you eviscerated Duro." Power the senator knew he needed if he was going to have any chance going up against Black Sun.

Phineas then thought about a way both he and the Crymorah could benefit from his proposal...a way they could both benefit. "Even if that said person was working on my side, it's still the same thing Black Sun has been doing since before either of us were born. It's still makes me a hypocrite- regardless of who does and doesn't know of what happened. And how am I supposed to know that you aren't going to slip out an ace from your sleeve that I never dealt to you? As far as I'm concerned, I'd end up in your pocket anyway...Look, my reputation right now isn't too great, and your plan would greatly improve it, but I couldn't live with my conscious, knowing that I'm a cheater and liar like the rest of Black Sun. I'd need to know that what I did really and truly was the right thing for my people and my home. I'd need to know that your people can respect the love and admiration I have for my home." Phineas refrained from saying "the rest of the Syndicates" but decided to use their current common enemy as an example.

"Now, Lucien, if that's even your real name, I'm not a gambler but I am willing to bet that if you helped me become a symbol for my planet, I'd end up owing you a favor, now wouldn't I? If you and Crymorah are willing to take me in under some new alias, I'd be willing to learn whatever it is you'd have to teach me. I'm not talking about something temporary either. I'm looking into...future career options if my current one as Senator doesn't work out- and that's where you come in. I'm willing to do your plan, but only for a little bit. If my proposal ends up working as I intend it to, you won't need that client because you'll have me...And here's the catch..." Phineas really wasn't a gambler but he was willing to go all in if it meant getting rid of Black Sun. Part of Phineas scolded him for going back on his word but a new side of him told him that if you can't beat them, join them. Or at least let them believe you've joined them long enough to pick up what's necessary to slowly hurt them from the inside without suspicion that it was you.

Oh, what a game.

"I...am willing to join your Syndicate. Mostly because I honestly believe that regardless of what you show on the holonet, you aren't the criminals the galaxy labels you to be. I despise crime...but it looks like I'm out of options, aren't I? I'm willing to agree with your proposal on the condition that I join your family. I want to be trained to fight not just with my words but with my actual fists. I can wear a mask and call myself Crymorah by night and dress up like I am right now and call myself Phineas Hawthorne by day. If you want to know my intentions, I want every advantage I can get on Black Sun. You already took out the Hutts, and I'm no fan of the Pyke slavers and cruel punishment that Crimson Dawn gives to those who don't bend the knee to their crest. I can act as a Senator and as an assailant for your people- imagine the possibilities of ridding the corruption from even the Senate themselves! I see it as a check mate against the entire galaxy if we play our cards right." Phineas outstreched his hand to offer to shake Lucien's. This whole gamble was everything to Phineas- he knew what he was doing, he knew the consequences that would follow, but if it meant making sure that not a single child (or adult for that matter) had to endure what Phin did, then by the Force there was "Honor Amongst Thieves".

"So? What do you say? Can a Senator join a Crime Syndicate? Will you help me help you fight off the tyrants who have done enough damage to our homes and loved ones?"

@Clayton
 

Darius Gal

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By the force, this was one fucking weird recruitment.

He tried to maintain an impassive face throughout the Senator's exposition, but here and there bits of mild puzzlement, acceptance, and consideration broke through. He made note of inconsistencies and phrases that seemed to imply that Phineas had discarded some previous conviction. All throughout, the gears turned in Lucien's mind, working the angles and considering alternatives. If Phineas was hell-bent on being a vigilante against the Black Suns, and it sounded like he was, the Crymorah might as well make use of it instead of somebody else.

And then the bombshell came. The Senator offered to join the Crymorah. Just like that they had gone from the Gaming Commission, to vigilantism, to vigilantism as a member of a major crime syndicate. For someone who had started out professing a distaste for organized crime, Phineas was sure digging hard to join up.

By the force, this was one fucking weird recruitment.

He stared at the outstretched hand for several long seconds. "Well, shit," Lucien finally said. "There are...certain lines that are respected between the Syndicates. But, you make it sound like you would be uniquely positioned to cross those lines and offer us plausible deniability. Weaken the Suns in a way they don't expect, and then Crymorah comes in to clean up the aftermath. That is interesting."

There was a brief thought to running this by Preef Callo beforehand, given the Senator's unique position in the galactic stage, but he had the feeling that the two of them at this moment were at the edge of a precipice. Lucien started to reach out for Phineas' hand, the absurdity of the entire situation written in the slight furrow of his eyebrows, and then then stopped short. "Just so we're clear and there's no confusion between us...before I shake your hand, before you walk down this path...this life is a two way street. You've made a fair bit of noise about how my proposal doesn't fit your style and you won't go along with it, and there's been a rapidly evolving back and forth. But now you say you're willing to do our plan. Just so I'm clear: When you say our plan, what do you refer to?" Lucien almost didn't dare hope that the Senator was going to give them the Board position in addition to joining up. But if Phineas was going to, Lucien wanted to understand then and there just how far up his own capital within the Crymorah had just skyrocketed.

@Charles
 

Phineas Hawthorne

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"As I said before," This was it. This was Phineas's chance at taking down Black Sun and the other Syndicates- but these next few words needed to be good. "We'll start off with your original plan, but if I start shaking things up under this new alias as I intend to, with the help of your Syndicate of course, we won't end up needing your client on the Commissions Board. It'll also give us time to improve my technique as apart of your family along with giving us some time on creating the alias. However, just incase, it's nice to have a plan B, so we'll stick to your plan for the time being. But if you can teach me to slice the way you do, if I can get some more muscle on me and start fighting a bit more organized, and if I can learn how to blend in with the shadows, then I can start scaring the hell out of Black Sun or any other rivals the Crymorah has- including the Senate. I'll act as an agent of Crymorah, but to the people I'd be a symbol of liberty and justice and they wouldn't know of my true allegiance until Crymorah wants them to know...I already have plans for what I'm going to do under this new alias as well." Phineas's expression was now much more serious than before.

"Because I'm known for not being able to shut my mouth, I'll hardly speak, only when interrogating or sending a quick and decisive message when needed. I thought it would be best for me to let my actions speak for themselves. I'll have to wear a mask seeing as I can't change my appearance as easily as you, and I already have a few ideas as far as that'll go. I'm not worried about marksmanship as I can handle a blaster, but I'd definitely need to build up some muscle before I start fist fighting any falleen for that matter. I even intend on flying a new ship with specific vehicles and maybe different weapons, to follow. I can fund this stuff myself, by the way, all I'm asking of your Syndicate is that I join and can be taught." Phineas explained as briefly as he could, his hand still outstretched to shake Lucien's.

"And I know the road I'm taking and I know what I said before about crime. This is...different, I hope, because it benefits my home and my people and if it works the way I plan on it working, it'll benefit the whole galaxy- the Crymorah included. I'm willing to learn if you'll teach me." Phineas really was desperate to get rid of the sickening tyranny the other Syndicates had plagued across the galaxy. So many had fallen prey to organizations like the Hutts, who tried to continue spreading the AMS virus even after they knew they couldn't contain it properly. The Pykes, who have sold and bought hundreds of men, women, and children under slavery. Crimson Dawn, who cut out the tongues of those who don't pay them the way they want to be paid. Finally, Black Sun, who use money, brute force, and manipulation to get entire governments to bend the knee to them spreading corruption with every planet they buy out from under the peoples' noses.

They all had to go. Every last one of them.

"And as you just said, no one will know that this new alias works under the Crymorah until you want people to know. That way, incase I slip up, there won't be any ties that this new alias was apart of the Crymorah and you still have a shot at kicking Black Sun's ass all the way to the Unknown Regions."

@Clayton
 
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Darius Gal

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And there it was. Lucien would be reporting back to some extremely pleased people. "Don't worry, believe it or not, but we do have access to industry professionals. Any Board member would be, truthfully, very competent and qualified for the position," he explained. With that, he stood, grabbed the Senator's hand and gave a firm shake. "Senator, we have a deal."

The words hung in the air with a sense of finality and accomplishment. Already Lucien was thinking ahead to all of the stuff that needed to be set in motion for this new, evolved plan. More people would have to be brought in on this little project, and, importantly, he would have to report back in person. Lucien released Phineas' hand and turned back to his chair, collecting his phone, which he slid into an inside pocket of the hoodie, and picked up the glass. He looked back to Phineas and raised the glass, a little bit of scotch left inside, in a toast. "We'll be in touch," he said, and quickly downed the remaining liquid, and, with a dull thunk, set the glass down on the desk. "in a less unconventional manner, don't worry. In the meantime, think on a good alias."

Lucien made his way to the door of the Senator's suite, and then stopped. "Oh, right I forgot," he said, pulling out his phone. A few taps later and Phineas would find that the room lights now responded to his control. "For your lights," he explained. "Now, unless you have any other questions, I think it's time we end this meeting."

@Charles
 

Phineas Hawthorne

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After the handshake, Phineas laid back in his chair and sighed with relief. He had done it! His planet was going to be saved, one way or another- which was Phineas's intention from the beginning of his career. And as the lights in the room got brighter, so did Phin's smile.

"I was going to ask when I can get started, but I assume you'll let me know." Phineas chuckled as he watched the man get up to leave the suite. "And I think I have a good alias goin'. You'll just have to wait until we see each other again, I guess." Phineas thought about writing his ideas down somewhere, but he then pushed that idea aside at the thought that it could be used against him if planned. Luckily, Phineas had a contact with the local "Merchants" Guild back home. Their leader was the brother of Hawthorne's first employer and mentor and had connections to gunsmiths, armorers, and starship engineers as well as clothing designers and techno savants.

If there was anyone Phineas could trust to buy some interesting gear, it was Maddz's older sibling, Stayssi. Phineas was already sending a message to the old friend on his phone, concerning an opening spot at a brand new job opening for the Senator of Ord Mantell's adviser. He'd just have to run a few errands with the money Phineas was planning on giving him to complete the tasks, and he was hired. The rodian was always interested in avenging his brother but didn't have the resources nor the support he would have now- and Phineas would trust the rodian with his life.

After finishing sending the message, Phin looked back at Lucien. "Thank you for your time, Mister Lucien, and I hope your ventures bring you both fame and fortune." He spoke formally and professionally, finally pouring a glass of scotch to himself.

@Clayton

/Exit-End Thread
 

Darius Gal

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Lucien nodded, and quietly left the room. He made his way to the other end of the liner, passing through the bar on his way. He nodded at his associate, who acted as both a scout to let Lucien know Phineas was on his way, but also as backup just in case things had gone sideways. Together, they reached the fore suites and Lucien's own room. "Wait outside," he instructed, and entered.

Once inside his own suite, Lucien jammed a security spike into the port on the door, freezing the lock and making any attempted forced entry, for the time being, delayed. Not that Lucien was paranoid, but he did not want to be interrupted; he still had one or two things to do to wrap everything up in a tiny bow. He took the PearPhone out of his pocket with an immensely satisfied grin. The screen brightened, and Lucien set to work. The first thing he did was turn off the tone generator. The annoying mosquito sound ceased. Despite what he'd said to Phineas, the tone would do nothing to prevent clandestine recording other than make audio recordings of the conversation annoying to listen to.

And, on the subject of clandestine recordings, he also turned off the audio recording that he'd started at the same time he turned the tone generator on. One of those taps had been on a small red dot in the notification tray, commanding an app he'd previously queued up. Every word of his conversation with the "good" Senator had been captured. He quickly encrypted the file and sent it through a secure messaging app to a trusted associate with the KnowOnes, who would store it in a secure, encrypted server. Lucien did not expect to need that recording, but its existence would be priceless leverage against Phineas if the Senator ever got high, lofty ideals and needed to be put in his place.

Darius closed his eyes and leaned back against the wall with an extremely satisfied grin still on his face. He had, without a doubt, just become one of the most important players within Zaa Fenn.

/exit, end thread
 
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