Taking the datapad from the Falleen's clawed hands and ingesting the message, Aleena passed it pack to her employer, her master. In doing so she caught the scent of his pheremones activating and rather than using the Force to block them she took a deep breath and let them wash over her body. Leaning close to her employer she whispered:

"The two soldiers are agressive, my lord. Though they follow their commanders orders they are like wild kath hounds straining at the leash. It is my opinion that words should be considered carefully here if you wish a....peaceful negociation." She paused for a moment and smiled before continuing. "I would advise caution from their leader, this Typho speaks the truth about his emotions, they are buried deep. I suspect he would carry out the actions he claims. The other two are of little concern while he is around however, he is your linchpin in this affair."

With that she stood up straight and turned to assembled members with a nod.
"If you gentlemen will excuse me, I have a matter attend to but will return shortly. Please help youselves to drinks if you wish them." Without waiting for a response from any of them and needing none she walked to end of the room and with the slightest flick of the wrist opened the large double doors in an obvious but understated use of the Force in case anyone in the room was unaware of her calling.



Leaving the conference room and heading out onto the balcony, she scanned the club until she found the bar the Bothan Trins Klusto was working at tonight. As it happened she was in luck, he was on the same floor as her, at one of the smaller bars at the far end of the balcony.

As he saw her approach the old Bothan cracked a smile, though she could read anxiousness from him. He didn't like her, and she couldn't blame him, he was smart after all. That said, he was also a font of local knowledge and knew everything there was to know about who came through the doors of this club. He was a watcher, a keeper of secrets. He was very good at it.

"Lady Aleena," He said as she walked up to the bar which was uncharacteristically quiet for once. "How are you this evening?".
She knew it was a front, of course. If he thought he could get away with being rude to her he was definately try, despite her being able to crush himr instantly. Still, she admired his respect, even under duress.
"I am well Trins, but I will spare you the details. I require you aid in a matter." Positioning herself on a stool and crossing her long legs she continued.
"I am aware of your knowledge of the patrons of this establishment and ask that you point me in the direction of some of the better known and reputed Bounty Hunters who are frequenting the club tonight. Who can you recommend?"

"I see," He said, putting down the drink he was making and leaning across the bar looking around.

"Well, You've met Skursir I see - he's a professional and quite open minded, for a Trandoshan. Another of his kind is here somewhere...now, oh, there he is - " The Bothan pointed toward a Trandoshan who was raising a glass in a toast. "That's Grrandoss, he's more what I'd call your 'typical' Trandoshan; violent, quick to anger and always spoiling for a fight. He's good at his job though, and if the credits are right, he's a good one to have around in a spot."

Continuing to point at various people among the crowd as he did so, Trins carried on intoducing Aleena to hired guns from the safety of the bar.
"Over there is Nynir She'cu, a Mandalorian warrior now working as a bounty hunter, though I don't recognise the man he is with. Over there is PrometheuX, another 'mando. See those marks on his armour? unmistakable, yeah that's him alright. Careful with him, he's a little...volatile. Speaking of volatile, that leather-clad female over there...the one with the dark hair? that's Renia Vais. I've heard lots about her, but you better have a big cred-stick if you want to hire her. Lets see, who else?"

Making mental notes to whom he was pointing out, Aleena watched as he continued:

"Ah! That gentleman over there with the four hulks around him? That's Contantine Nord V. More of a businessman than most, but if your after some hired muscle he might be of use."

"...and this, he said gently leaning over the bar and seperating the dancing girls Asori and Otara to reveal a slightly intoxicated grinning human man with a hand on each of their hips, "...is Godjera. I appreciate he doesn't look like much now," He continued, pulling a bottle out of Godjera's hand that the smuggler had, up until that point thought the barman hadn't seen him trying to remove. "but I assure you he is one of the best shots with a blaster I've ever seen and has an impressive knack for coming up trumps in a fist-fight."

"Him?" Aleena said with a slight look of confusion on her face "Are you sure? he doesn't look like he down a Jawa.."

In repsonse Godjera just smiled, winked and raised a glass.

"Appearances can be deceptive, m'lady. Oh, and whilst I remember; that gentleman over there," He said, motioning to a large, well-built human man with unusual moustache and dangerous look in his eyes who strode confidently toward them, "Is known as Keel, Eamonn Keel. He wished to speak with you."

Taking a deep breath, Charada entered the Hyperion, as calm as the man was, He never enjoyed being in a bar, He was more of the lone wolf type. As he entered, He located the bar and had a seat, the mission was simple, Gather up intel on the local affairs and use it to the greatest advantage.

While Charada scanned the room, he noticed a tall woman, quite white and a fearsome look, he knew the type.

"Sith.." He muttered to himself as he continued looking around, though something in his head told him to continue to observe the sith, it could mean quite the job just by seeing what she was up to.

"Hmm I don't want to attract attention neither do I dare to speak to the staff, asking too many questions might get me into the wrong kind of attention. They seem to be looking for bounty hunters, that bothan seems to be pointing them out one by one."

Charada ordered an Arkanian sweet milk and kept observing what was happening before him.

shocked by the demand of the falleen, dante did all he could to stay calm, how could the man talk about being civil and wise while asking for his hand ?

he then putted his hand on typho's shoulder and whispered to him
"commander, i appreciate your concern for me but i will do what i must, id like to remember you that the famed doctor mandrayk as joined the guild recently, and combined with my own experience in cybernetics, i could probably get out of this unscarred. lets kill three bird with one stone, that falleen will be happy, we will have a way to truely judge the extent of dr.mandrayk skills and id be only too happy to take the challenge of replacing the missing limb. you only need to claim reasons of honor or i dont know what so i can do it myself with my own sword. sharp and burning as it is, its gonna do a clean cut that will quickly cauterize."

he then gave a quick look at typho then at the falleen and stepped back
"may i personally ask what guarantees the business loyalty you are refering to ? i would be losing this hand forever while you can just cut the lines."

"If you gentlemen will excuse me, I have a matter attend to but will return shortly. Please help youselves to drinks if you wish them." Aleena said before moving out of room.

The thought came upon Skursir that he was the only ally that the Falleen had left in the room and while the other GTC members becoming hostile, his prescense would definately needed to offer support to his boss. He found it grotesque that the Falleen wanted Dante's hand. He never came across his custom on his homeworld and certainly had never seen it before. Though he respected other cultures, he knew that it would be hard on any human and his mind raced to alternative possibilities.

"may i personally ask what guarantees the business loyalty you are refering to ? i would be losing this hand forever while you can just cut the lines."

"I suggest an alternative" Skursir rose from his chair abruptly, attempting to gather as much attention as possible. "Dante should ssign a blood pact with the Head of Operationss decreeing ssubmission to him for the duration of this conferance." He turned specifically to the Falleen and said, "This would ssave consiberable time, and having just lost a hand could ssevere negotiations with the chief arms dealer who is the person we want to ssee most, don't you agree, sir?"

It was the first time that Skursir had said "sir" since he left the Republic Army. It was a bitter taste on his lips, but he decided that his employer was worthy of the title. He sat back down, this time, next to the Falleen.

as he heard the trandoshan talk, he smiled, dante had already made peace with the idea of a cybernetic hand and found it amusing how everybody wanted otherwise while the sole person concerned was ready to agree to the demand.

"pardon me skursir, but i never disagreed with your master"
silence fell in the room
"the GTC has the necessary personnal to replace my hand should i lose it, and if that can help show the true values of the "lackeys" of the GTC,*his gaze turned to the falleen into an eyelock*then id be happy to oblige to the demand, my previous question was only to ensure we also get a guarantee that the deal will be respected."

he stepped forward and showed his hand to the falleen, as if he wanted to shakehand with him
"if that hand will be the element that will seal this deal, then i think its only natural that you also give us a guarantee. ill only ask that i do it myself with my own sword"

standing right there his hand in front of the falleen, the cold gaze of dante was still set on the man...

Rasper was watching intently on everything that was happening. He had now crossed his arms arms across his chest after Typho had shown he was not in favor of Dante losing a hand and was ready for anything that might happen.

Rasper watched as Dante held out his hand as if he wanted his hand taken. Rasper was ready to pounce if the Faleen or the other one tried anything hasty. He glanced at Typho in case he was given a signal to act.

Dante offered his hand to the Falleen. Skursir's brow raised, this was unexpected, but it was the arms dealer's choice if he was willing to sacrifice his hand then so be it. But if the Grey Vigo would allow him, that was another matter. He looked at Typho, but his eye was distracted by Rasper's movement. He saw his head make a glance to his leader. "Ssss...." Skursir's hiss was a thoughtful one.

Skursir sighed and took hold of the datapad Dante had tossed forward. Both to allow the Falleen to make his choice and secondly, to see what Dante had to offer. Images flew up holographically. One was of a pistol, another of a carbine and yet another of a collapsable rocket-laucher. A design unique to Skursir's ears.

With the images came the names, PH-5 Boltar, NS-3 Shredder among others. The prices and statistics were also listed underneath on the datapad. "Interessting," Skursir made another look at more designs, a strange blade among them. "Sir, thesse weaponss are cheaper than what the Armour Workshop providess and mosst are conssiderably lighter at the same calibre."

Skursir quietened down to look at more weapons, leaving the Falleen to decide the fate of Dante's hand.

Ascending the spiral staircase Eamonn passed a group of delicious looking girls on their way down. He moved aside only a fraction necessitating them to squeeze their way past, their young bodies brushing against his. He smiled at the one who leaned in to him as she slowed her decent, she briefly stopped and deliberately pressed her buttox up against crotch before moving on to catch up with her friends but not without throwing a flirtatious wink up the stairs at this stranger. Grinning to himself he strutted his way up the remaining stairs and through the doorway which lead to the first floor balcony.
    Upon reaching the balcony Eamonn realised his mistake. The pale and extraordinarily beautiful dark haired woman was casually leaning against the nightclub’s wall some ways off, obviously engaged in some kind of business. He cleared the entrance and instead of approaching her walked away in the other direction, observing the trio from across the balcony opposite. They comprised the woman and an obviously tall cowled figure who though sat facing into the open room, Eamonn couldn’t make out it’s features in the subdued light. The third was a Trandoshan which had his back to him but whose body language spoke of defensiveness.
    Whatever was said, the encounter was soon over. The three retreated from the balcony back onto the landing where Eamonn lost sight of them.
    ”Bunch of frakin’ freaks” he muttered to himself as he wandered over to the nearest bar. His mistrust of alien races ran deep and his dislike of wizards deeper still.
    Returning, Corellian whiskey in hand, to his vantage spot at the balcony he lit a cigarra. Casually leaning on the railings and flicking ash over the heads of the drones below, Keel briefly considered searching out the randy chick on the stairwell (the Twi’lek already forgotten) but checking his wristwatch he decided against it. He instead took a seat at one of the small tables populating the mezzanine, sipped his drink and waited patiently.

He never tired of people-watching. It gave him a detached perspective which bestowed a certain wisdom, he thought. To see people interact, how different they were when performing to an audience to when left alone, the lies they told about themselves through the choice of clothes they wore… Another man might take pity on such a culture of lost and lonely souls but Keel didn’t. He saw the pages of their lives written there and read in them an instruction manual; which buttons to press and how to dismantle. They were all so pathetic these dolls. Puppets for one another to play with and damage.
    He saw her walk past him then, slowly stalking her way to the bar like a panther, her hips swaying rhythmically with every deliberate step. Freak or not, hell yeah I’d tap that, he thought, tilting his head to better admire her rear. She reached her destination and began talking to the barman, pulling a stool up to the bar.
    Right. He finished his drink and stood up, rolling the cracks out of his broad shoulders. Show time.
    Walking up to the woman he ignored the Bothan and introduced himself. ”Eamonn Keel” he extended a hand which she ignored as she turned to look at him. ”I believe you’ve been expecting me”
    He had been given an unlikely description of her but the characterisations turned out to be accurate. With the pallor of her grey marble-like complexion and the whites of her eyes tinged red, she looked to Eamonn like the victim of a violent strangulation making his hands twitch slightly and a wave of desire spread out from his groin.
    He let his hand drop but allowed his sweeping gaze to linger on her tight athletic form a fraction longer than would be considered strictly professional. ”Can I get you drink before we… begin?”

The pigmentation on the Fallen's skin had begun to change colour from a brilliant green to a darker shade of red, signalling his frustration. Baffled that the Vigo hadn't succumb to his pheremones and even more shocked that he was aware of what he was doing in the first place as it was a near on imbossibility, he continued to make the deal against his better judgement.
"Firstly....'commander' I see my offer as more than civil and I'm not the one making threats in an establishment FULL of the deadliest scum in the galaxy, who I may add are at MY disposal."
He chuckled at the audacity on show from the human.
"You must understand I simply just want compensation for the loss of one of my men by the hands of Mr. Demens here, is that so unreasonable?."
If he could he'd probably be enjoying this moment right now as he found it slightly amusing that the one person unopposed to his offer was Dante himself.
"I have another solution." His skin pigment was now changing back to it's original state.
"In order for Mr. Demens to keep his precious hand I would like a considerably reasonable discount with the weapons on offer."
Picking up the datapad he walked over to the bar to make himself a drink, not facing the group as he played his final card.
"That is my final offer."

dante pulled back his arm and letted out a somewhat mild but cold laugh

he then said on a defiant tone
"that final offer wont be needed, your first offer is accepted. surely you know better than to return on your words."

he then showed out a sarcastic grin

"know your opponent when attempting a bluff sir, and more than anything else, never underestimate the so-called "lackeys" of the gtc."

he then walked back to typho and stopped there

"you can keep the holo-pad, meanwhile if you could order your bouncer to give me back my sword, i will seal this deal immediatly. Or maybe you'd rather have him bring it here ?"

Skursir frowned angrily as Dante spoke and for the first time defended the Falleen.
"He iss not returning on hiss wordss, Armss Dealer!" Skursir stood up quicker than before, a surprise to him even. "While you may accept the firsst offer, the Grey Vigo thinkss otherwisse..." He gestured to Typho, but then returned his stare to Dante. "...And it iss a very bad reflection of the Galactic Trade Commission if you ignore the wishess of your Vigo. Now, let uss forget thesse idealss of inferiority and continue with the armss deal"

The rudeness from this so called arms dealer had started to become taxing. The Falleen was all about ready to pull out the deal with the man who showed no respect towards him or his staff. By all means this man should have been dead by now anyway. He signalled to Skursir to calm down as the Trandoshan had quite a reputation for handling things in a physical manner.
"Now, now Skursir. Maybe there is no way that our 'friend' here will see sense."
Sharply he turned his attention to Dante who's boldness he considered foolish.
"I am by no means meaning to bluff you so I suggest you hold you tongue whilst under my roof Human. Your apparent need to insult my intelligence shows me that you are not ready for such negotiations. "
The Falleen finished his drink and calmly walked out of the room.
"The negotiations are off."

dante was shocked, the arrogance of the falleen was blinding him extraordinarly

"you are the only person here insulting yourself, sir, im merely saying i accept your first offer and that the "final one" you made was therefor uncalled for. Even your ambassador confirmed that my craft was superior to what you currently have access to. and i repeat myself, if to get the respect of the epoch head of operation and seal this deal i have to get my hand cut, then so be it."

dante then made a step forward the falleen

"things arent solved by ignoring them sir, why dont you show us the intelligence your reputation never stops talking about ? im saying this as a man who was told the epoch was a great organisation famed for its wise members. Dont stop at mere appearance and the reckless mercenary you might see in me. Its a skilled craftsman who heard many incredible things on your subject that only means honest business."

dante then stepped back by typho, not sure what else he could do

Skursir felt it ironic that he had to be calmed by the Falleen, who was previously in a heated arguement with Dante. He hadn't really been angry, at least he didn't remember himself to be, but never the less, he backed off. He had to agree though that Dante was far too arrogant himself, unable to make way for superiority, and now he calls the Falleen reckless and unwise? These were dangerous words and Skursir decided to step in once more, for Dante's own safety.

"There will be no more on thiss matter." He said sharply, looking primarily at Dante. "I musst assk the Galactic Trade Commission to vacate the Conference Room as the EPOCH hass resspectifully pulled out of thiss negotiationss on order of the Head of Operationss. Thank you for your time and effort in thesse dealingss but we won't be requiring your servicess any longer". He started to follow the Falleen out, giving a respectful nod at the party as he passed.

dante looked at rasper and then at typho, only to shrug moment later, scratched his back and then took back the usual grin he always has on his face

"oh well, at least i tried. look like the GTC will keep the exclusivity over my designs"

he then laugh and stretched himself a bit

"alright. you'll excuse me commander, i can hear my workshop calling my name. oh and ill take a day off tomorrow too, that falleen's request was absurd but its giving me an idea."

he then putted his hand in his coat pocket, exited the room and casually walked toward the hyperion exit, planning on picking his stuff and leaving for his shop, caring little for what had happened in the last hours, he was already lost in thought over his next creations.