Ask Nicely

[Darth Parox]

Fralideja, Mustafar, 1700 local time​

Milo had never been to Mustafar, but it was very quickly growing to become one of his favorite planets. It was aesthetically pleasing, for one. The rivers of lava and maroon mountains of obsidian were pleasing to the eye, even despite the machinery that plagued them. The sky itself was hazy, likely from the smoke of the volcanoes that littered the surface of the planet, but Milo didn't mind. He could see himself visiting this planet much more once it was taken over by the Empire.

That is, until they stepped off the ship. It was then that he realized why Mustafar was only visited by those who absolutely had to visit it. It was hot despite the droids that followed them, who were constantly spraying a misty liquid into the air to lower the temperature of the atmosphere around them to bearable. The clothing Milo was wearing had been picked out specifically to cool him down, but he still felt the urge to hurry to the air conditioned meeting room.

They strode in silence on durasteel walkways and through a few doors. There was no one there to lead them; no servants, no secretaries. Mustafar was a utilitarian sort of planet with a utilitarian sort of government—Milo couldn't say that he didn't like that. They only used the bare minimum, since anything more would make things more prone to complications.

"Crusader Drast!" a voice called out as they stepped into the large meeting room. A man stepped forward, his skin darkened by constant exposure to lava, and scarred from working in the mines. He was missing an arm—likely from an accident—and the prosthetic he had chosen to replace it was barebones. "Welcome to Mustafar!"

@KinkyPrawn

 

[Mid Samekh]

Mustafar. Such a beautiful world despite the heat and filthy air. The Dark Side of the force was powerful on this planet and starting a church would be a wondrous task indeed.

Mid was following close behind Milo as they walked towards a doorway that led to a conference room. Despite the heat and his armour soaking it up, Mid was barely bothered by it. Blistering heat was nothing new to the Pureblood that had spent over 45 years in the harsh, unforgiving deserts of Korriban. His duraplast-plated boots 'dinged' lightly as he strode after Milo, easily keeping up with him as they walked over the durasteel walkway. The droids spraying the liquid around them was slightly annoying, but welcome since it made handling the heat a little easier for the 2 sith. Hopefully negotiations would go well. Starting a church on this amazing and fascinating planet would definitely be a dream come true for the Pureblood. Maybe he might even take charge and watch over the church for the High Priestess if she allowed it...if his plans for Malachor didn't become reality.

A man greeted them when they stepped into the cool, air conditioned conference room. He looked harsh and weathered, clearly the result of his many years of living and working on the unforgiving planet. Mid could excuse the appearance, since probably no amount of soap in the galaxy could get the man to appear decent ever again. Mid kept standing behind Milo with his one hand resting on the pommel of his lightsaber and the other resting behind his back. He remained quiet and stood tall as he waited for Milo to talk first.

@vamp

 

[Darth Parox]

"Thank you, Chairman Del'kar." The man was the ruler of Mustafar, but Mustafar was ruled by the local miner's guild. Hence, the man was actually the Chairman of the miner's guild, which was the leading faction on the planet. It was a bit complicated, but Milo had spent the time necessary to do his homework. He found that it often helped.

And help it did, because the Chairman immediately smiled, a glint of respect in his eyes. Not many people cared enough about their world to actually try to learn about it, and most looked him over, assuming he was just another miner who had gotten lost and found his way into the conference room. It was why he had kept Mustafar neutral for so long—no one deserving of their allegiance had come along thus far. Most people thought themselves to be above the lowly workers, and it ticked Del'kar off. Milo did too, but he still harbored respect. They did, after all, make the world(s) go round. Besides, he was not about to tell the man he considered himself better than him and his constituents.

"Please—call me Gaz." He took a seat and motioned for the two Sith to do the same. Milo obeyed, though he didn't think Mid would do the same. The Pureblood certainly gave off a "silent knight" vibe. Either way, he was there as a contingency, not a partner to help him sail his way through the negotiations. "So, I guess we'll be discussing the fate of Mustafar." He was stating the obvious, but at least Milo knew the Chairman understood why they were there. He had probably expected it too—most of the Galaxy knew they would one day be sitting across the table from an Imperial. The Empire was inevitable.

"Yes," he replied simply. "The easy way?" It was a glaringly simple question that was uncharacteristic of Milo, but he was speaking and behaving as the man would like him to. First, he would ask nicely. Milo hoped that would be all that was necessary—and he had a hunch that was the case.

@KinkyPrawn

 

[Mid Samekh]

Mid stood behind Milo, watching the conversation unfold. He was slightly surprised from Milo's polite manner but welcomed the change of pace. He was a warrior, always ready and waiting for the next bloody battle...but he was also a priest, humble and looking for a way to solve problems without spilling blood.

The man responded politely as well and motioned for them to sit. Milo took a seat but Mid stood right next to him behind his chair as a stalwart sentinel. The leader's forward statement took Mid by surprise. Usually people grovel underneath an Imperial envoy or beat around the bush, this guy just flattened the bush and walked right on through. He had to admire the man for being so blunt and still managed to operate in a civil, polite manner. Milo responded with a simple, blunt question of his own. It seemed him and Mid shared a common hope in this negotiation going down without a need to fight.

Mid just stood steadfast, towering over Milo as he listened to the negotiation and kept his eyes and ears open for any surprises that might be coming for them. Hopefully this leader was smart enough not to try something as cowardly or stupid as an assassination on two sith warriors.

@vamp

 

[Darth Parox]

The man chuckled at first. "We-he-he-hell," he replied at first, his chest heaving and face heavy with amusement. It was not a cruel laugh—the man simply found Milo's blunt attitude funny. The Sith understood, and simply watched and waited for him to finish. Then, with a shrug to the side, the man replied. "Easy way."

He let a small smile pull up the right corner of his lips. "Easy way it is." Milo leaned forward. "Mustafar yields to the Empire, accept to pay their taxes and whatnot—and retains autonomy. You may function as a member-planet, free to enact whatever changes to your own laws and government you want—so long as you respond to the Empire and follow any decrees."

The Chairman nodded. These were terms he had been expecting. He did not dislike them, but there was nothing to dislike. The Sith had given him a very vague outline of what were to happen. "And those taxes—how much are we lookin at here?" It was a fair question. Milo had hoped he wouldn't be the one to have to go through the economic negotiations, but he had still come prepared.

"15% of the PDP."

@KinkyPrawn

 

[Mid Samekh]

Mid raised an eyebrow as the man laughed, but he couldn't sense any hostility from the man so he didn't even budge. Not that he would have anyway, he would only have made a move on Milo's order.

He was both relieved and disappointed that the man chose the easy way, but under the circumstances it would definitely make things easier. Milo's terms didn't sound unreasonable at all. It certainly did sound better than the terms other planets got, if the recent mission to Rodia was anything to go by. The thought of scaring that Rodian womp-rat of a Grand Protector to hell and back still made him snicker from time to time.

When Milo explained the tax rate, Mid's brow raised once again. 15% tax rate? The Mustafarian would have to be a total moron to not take that offer, compared to the more...explosive alternative. If the Empire could just roll up on Hoth with an orbital bombardment on top of a simple base to send a message, imagine what would happen if they were busy with more serious invasions.

Mid stood dead still as he awaited the man's reaction.

@vamp

 

[Darth Parox]

The Chairman thought for a moment, two fingers rubbing his chin. "Will the Empire defend us from any attacks?" he asked. Milo simply nodded. "I mean, I know we have no other option or anything, but I'd like to know what Mustafar is getting into."

"You will be free to conduct business as usual. 15% of the yearly PDP will go to the Empire, who will in return protect you from foreign attacks, though most domestic conflicts must be solved by the local government—you. The only significant difference will be the construction of a Sith temple here in the capital." Milo waited for a response.

"Who will be providing men for the construction of the temple?" the Chairman asked, rather skeptical.

@KinkyPrawn

 

[Mid Samekh]

Mid was starting to like this old, grizzled miner more and more. Such bluntness was rare to find these days in the Empire. Everyone was lying, backstabbing, betraying and double crossing each other in the Empire, finding someone like this was a delightful change of pace.

Milo explained how the new relationship would work between the Sith Empire and Mustafar, but the smile under Mid's helmet faded when the man asked about who will be providing the workforce for the new temple.

That was a damn good question. Mid never got around to asking Milo about that on the way to the volcanic planet. The most logical decision would probably be the Mustfarians themselves. They were no strangers to hard work, the only potential problem could be compensation. This Mustafarian clearly cared about his people which was admirable. But Milo was proving to be pretty fair, so odds of the matter being settled quickly and efficiently were pretty good.

His hands shifted from his hips to fold across his chest as he stood behind Milo. The dark, empty eye slits of his helmet were locked onto the Mustafarian.

@vamp

 

[Darth Parox]

"You will." It wasn't a question. It wasn't a request. It was an order. Mustafar would be integrated within the Empire soon, and this was an exercise in submission good as any. Milo had set it up that way purposefully, to see if they were willing to put their money where their mouth was. Would Mustafar prove to be loyal by building the Empire a temple, or will they refuse and still build it anyway?

"Fine," the Chairman replied after a long, tense silence.

"We will be providing you with resources, but they're all mostly local. Obsidian, duracrete, the like. Nothing your workers aren't used to, and their expertise in the area is one of the reasons we picked them." Milo slowly rose from his seat and extended one hand. "Deal?"

@KinkyPrawn

 

[Mid Samekh]

Mid took a step back to allow for Milo to stand up. The terms were fair and Mid could see no reason for the Mustafarian to object.

The Mustafarian let out a sigh and took Milo's hand, giving it a frim handshake with his weathered prosthetic hand.

Mid fell in close behind Milo as they walked out of the conference room into the hot atmosphere once again. Mid caught up and walked right next to Milo as they made their way towards the ship. "If only every planet was so cooperative. I'm sure it will save the Empire a lot of time and resources." he spoke casually as he kept his eyes forward.

They boarded Milo's ship and in a few minutes they were in hyperspace once again. The negotiation couldn't have gone smoother. Mid took a seat in the recreation area, taking off his helmet and placing it on the table. He had a toothy smile a mile long. As a priest, the idea of being able to build another temple meant a great deal to the Pureblood. If the empire permitted, he might even drop in to watch the construction commence.

Could the day possible get any better?

/End thread

@vamp