RPlog:Tyy'sun Hunt (Ash Log 2)

The hub of the New Republic does not quite thrive and overwhelm the way Coruscant did; Ord Mantell actually has a percentage plains and seas dominating the planetary landscapes and opposed to the over-industrialized metropolis world. That being said the Mid Rim world nestled in the Bright Jewel Cluster sports some of the galaxy's most urban and sprawling settings. New Alderaan, the capital city is no exception, its very starport a small city in and of itself, its operations underway day and night, its arrivals and departures a constant visual wonder to off-worlders from less populated and politically charged regions of the slice.

All beings of the New Republic and beyond take interest in the crossroad that is Ord Mantell, a meeting place of every kind of culture, businessbeing, trader and criminal. And, like the other in the list, the criminals take interest in who comes and who goes from the front door of the capital. The Twi'lek maffi watches with intent, its network of affiliates and agents moving through the teaming crowds of tourists, spacers and locals. Its ships rest in dock and upon tarmac, passively scanning with delicate equipment the coming and going of other vessels - particularly that of the freight and cargo variety.

The Velker cleared for landing in the usual spot that the officials give to the pilot; Ash slowly brings the ship in. It's just another day, managing to catch her catnap on the journey from Tatooine to here, she comes out of the vessel and talks with the usual official and gets clearance to remain for her stay. Returning into the vessel, the young woman gets cleaned up and grabs a bite to eat before going on her merry lil way. First thing though, she checks her vessel over, as though judging when she should get it cleaned up. There's a couple of scorch burns on the hull, but nothing major. She chuckles as she touches that, "Silly smugglers," she mutters under her breath, recalling her trip to Smuggler's Run shortly after the destruction of Undula and his court and the disappearance of her boss.

Turning about, seeing that nothing is missing, thrice damn the jawas of the desert planet, she starts on her way. Her sunglasses conceal her eyes, even though the light on Ord Mantell is far fairer than the light of Tatooine. The alabaster woman seems at peace as she pulls out her datapad and starts typing away upon it as she strolls through the starport, perhaps seeking to head for the train to take her away from here.

Another datapad clicks and beeps not far from Ash's own. That of a blue skinned Twi'lek male, who clings to the long shadows cast by the spire towers dotting the port grounds. 'Target confirmed.' he clicks onto the keypad with long, sharp fingernails. 'Subject departing on foot. Starship dormant.'

The blue skinned male smirks to himself, eyeing the young woman’s trek across the tarmac, eager to take up the chase after a day of drudgeries inventorying a collection of stoopa birds and green rykrits set for export tomorrow. He slips in with a group of Nemoidians for a few paces before selecting a vein of bulk freighter passengers heading in Ash's general direction.

Her message sent to her friend, Ash looks up and stops, allowing a pack of some sort of green lumpy skinned things go pass her. Carefully stepping between the droppings, even though she's in her oh so fashionable combat boots, Ash waits till she's clear to check up on her contract holders on Ord Mantell, learning what if they need any meetings and just letting them all know that she's on planet for the next lil bit. Rather than take the main street to the train, she takes one of the side streets, without looking up and keeps to the walk way. Grabbing a turbo lift to the next level of walkways, she gets out, still playing with her datapad before putting it away in an inner pocket. She stops at door, and rings the buzzer and waits. She pulls out her datapad and types one it, before putting it away again, her expression one of timed expectance.

With no answer, she shakes her head and rubs the back of her neck. "Got to get him a droid," she mutters as she starts to turn away. Taking a different route to one of the train stations, she hums to herself, her eyes taking in the landscape around her. It wasn't Kashyyyk, but the height was nice.

The blue skinned Twi'lek keeps pace well enough to observe the route of the young woman as she travels through the starport, taking a moment here and there to update his own datapad. 'subject departing Chutar zone. Handoff to Ko'ciell."

A yellow skinned female, wearing spacers garb and smoking a deathstick, dressed as a teenage youngling from the Lowfair area trades off with the Blue skin, having positioned herself within the turbo lift as part of the tracking network, in case she should need to reach the next level of walkways. Luck brought the quarry right to her, however, and while Ash is in the turbo lift, the yellow skin just leans against the wall inside, smoking and acting as a destitute hanging out to panhandle. When Ash exits the lift, the young just stays put inside, before pulling her datapad out and updating the network.

The stop at the door is noted by another female, this one sporting green skin, and corporate robes from the outer rim. The address is reported back to the hub. A holonet search is conducted as to the owner and purpose of the residence.

The green skinned, robed Twi'lek takes up a leisurely pace some distance behind Ash, tailing her subtly, the Twi'leks could do this all day, in many cases, though they have to work at it, and will only risk exposure of its network for higher priority targets such as Ash.

The door to the living areas belongs to a Verpine who's known for being gentle and kind to those of the street urchin variety in need of medical attention when they cannot afford the hospital bill. His name is also known to be L'ck and had been seen in Ash's presence traveling with her a few months ago, and just recently he disappeared with her and then was returned by her just a couple of days ago.

Waiting for the train, Ash checks her chronosphere and ponders, her eyes now taking in what is around her, the datapad put away, and her hands in her pockets. While the trench coat is cream, her clothing is far more vibrant. Tucking a loose strand of hair around one of her chopsticks, she smirks as the slightly late train approaches. Waiting for the passengers to get off she taps her foot, and then nods and talks to one of the disembarkers. The discussion is short, sweet and professional, though the innuendos from the male give the hints to any paying particular attention that he wants more than just a professional relationship. Ash, being called Miss Lazure, chuckles politely and waves him off, promising to have his order filled before the week is up.

Stepping past him with a dancer's grace, she boards the train and takes a seat. Pulling out her datapad, she puts in the order requested by Mr. Johnson. Once that is done, she flips her datapad to a holonet and watches a bit of news as the first of many stations comes up and the train stops. She remains seated.

As the train stops and then departs again, forms and beings depart and board, blurred as a backdrop to the holonet newscasts Ash absorbs. A cloaked figure takes a seat behind the woman, his crimson skin and tattooed lekku shrouded by the cowl pulled low over his features. Only the faint smell of spice drifting into the train cabin, intermingling with the scents of the other sentients and spacers and locals present, might give someone who knows the crimelord forewarning of his presence.. but Ash has only encountered him once.

As the train pushes off and the low thrum of the engine reverberates through the cabin and rocks them in their seats lightly, the cityscape of New Alderaan becomes its own blur again. Eson reaches up and pulls the cowl from his head, leaning forward toward the back of the young woman's head. A whisper creeps across the short space between them, "It has been said that a flitwing has a one in a million chance of escaping a daggerspit's web... but those who do invariably find their way back into the web again." the words carry a Ryl accent, the words spoken in basic.

Reading a report on the mysterious ship that appeared at the Void of Chandrila, she inhales then re-inhales deeply. Ash's brow quirk slightly. It's not that it's a particular scent just that, well, she doesn't like having the dregs of society sitting near her. She turns off her datapad and slips it into her inner pocket. Her hidden eyes looking at the sign to see how many more stops till her's. She inhales again, and shakes her head slightly, how she dislikes addicts.

When the voice whispers to her from behind, she nearly has it placed instantly, once her ears pick it up. She felt his presence, one could say, before his words were picked up. Aside from a delayed stiffening of surprise, she doesn't look back to the Twi'lek sitting behind her. Recalling his face, crimson and weathered. That day in the park. He had brought a glop grenade to a CSA controlled planet and let it go off, apparently without consequences. "You know, it's far better to speak plainly your threats," she replies back, to the male. Her voice is icy, devoid of fear. She also recalls the day that she had interfered with the movement of past prisoners of Darth Malign. His swoop, the Twi’lek shadows. A smile plays across her lips; apparently he didn't hold the same morals as the Doshans regarding prey that escapes.

Two more stops, but she could potentially lead him to her friend, and she knows that L'ck is no combatant. And so, she remains there, and folds her hands. "And to what do I owe this visit?" she inquires, sarcasm in her voice. She looks over the NR military that have taken up greater presence here. "Unless you want me to scream out a certain word that will have every marine shooting at you," perhaps he knew about the Sith stealing Senator Al'dira from his own office, and the attack of the Rancor in the park. Or he didn't. Either way, she knew it would take one word for her to get out of this situation and she become very calm, letting her unspoken words hang in the air.

"Your faith in the system is charming." smirks the crimelord, sitting back in his chair again, speaking in a normal tone. She has seen what he can get away with in a CSA controlled city first hand, and he seems equally comfortable in the den of the New Republic. "Rest assured that I too know the system well." crimson, leathery lekku slither slowly about his shoulders, assuming a more comfortable drape. A moment of silence befalls him before his next words come simply and in the conversational form of a question. "Seen Tritus lately?"

She chuckles as she hears his words. "Who says I have faith?" Ash asks rhetorically. She knew the system well enough too, but she wasn't just counting on the reaction of the Marines present, but also on the common civilian. From what she understood Al'dira had been popular with many of the common folk. She grins. "Why would I?" she replies to his question as her eyes search for a reflection to watch the so called hunter behind her. She also keeps a silent count of non-Twi’lek to Twi’lek visual ratio. The train stops and passengers exchange.

She cannot lead this man to her friend who's possibly at the Cat's Claw. Just as the doors are about to close, she gets up and dashes out of the train, jostling a few of the passengers. Large scenes were never her thing to create anyways, she so preferred discreet operations. Once out, she bolts for a side street, her hand reaching into her pocket to pull out the datapad and turn it on. Dropping a bread crumb, just in case, she stops then walks calmly to coffee shop in this area, her fingers working without her watching, pulling up her doctor friend's number and then typing a message before sending it.

Stepping inside, she takes a seat. There are NR Military outside, as well, deciding to act like a person late for a meeting, she takes a seat and waits, her back to a wall and glances at her chronosphere. As the server comes up, she orders a fanciful coffee for herself and informs the server that she's waiting for another. Her seat gives her a clear view of the door, and the transparisteel window a wonderful view of the outside. If he wants to talk, she'll damn well pick the place.

It is almost enough to cause the Twi'lek net to lose track of Ash's movements, her sudden bolt at the door, combined with not having an agent conveniently placed enough at that particular stop, caused a few lekku to blow in the breeze as they rush regain sight. Eson, however, does not give chase at her lunging, preferring to remain impassive and superior in his posture, a finger fishing a cigar from the inner lining of his cloak, and a flint from another, and a smirk from the deep nethers of his vengeful heart.

The reports that Ash had fled to a nearby cafe come in after several awkward moments of silence and queries over the com and datapad threads. It is a suitable neutral ground, and the location is far from the den of the Twi'leks, deep in Lowfair. If it had been a local business in Drosshill, the owner might be employed by, or owe the Maffi a favour or past due payments. So might the local law enforcement for that matter. That said, a proper lord of crimes maintains his public legitimacy enough to navigate the land freely while agents of the Family follow orders behind the scenes.

It is not Eson, however, who walks through the doors of the cafe to re-establish contact with Ash. It is a yellow skinned female, tough to the eye and sporting a patchwork of leather armours and smugglers garb. Her lekku are wrapped in a cross patterned mesh harness that state the Twi'lek means business, not pleasure (to anyone familiar with Rylothian and New Kalan dress culture) almost as convincingly as the blaster holstered at her hip. She saunters over to the table confidently before slipping into the seat in front of the formidable Ash. "Simple and to the point. You have ties to Tritus whose organization aided in the capture, torture and murder of hundreds of the Family's kin by Draga the Hutt. This puts you in severe debt to the Twi'leks of New Kala'uun. And that is why you will help us to right what is wrong. That, and because you don’t want the galactic mob trailing your every move, forcing you underground, and generally making your life and the lives of those you interact with a living hell."

The Twi’lek woman finds Ash sitting in her chair sipping the coffee. Ash's eyes her and smirks. She lets the woman speak, and then laughs. She leans back, still chuckling. "Go fly. I wait for your boss to come and dine with me. If he is so righteous, he can damn well have coffee with me." Going through the list of people she knows, she keeps her face neutral and unimpressed. One could possibly see the challenge she is silently giving the Twi’lek female.

She snickers, shaking her head. Sipping her coffee, before arching her brow at the woman, "What the hell are you still doing here? Go get your puppet master," her voice has dropped down to black velvet. Different ways things can be played out go through her head. And what he doesn't know is who she knows. She has no fear of this. Going to ground was nothing new to her. She had to go to ground when Tritus decided to toss her aside. She went to ground again when she stole his slave and released her into a friend's care. And there are places where he won't dare to travel. Now she silently goes through the list of associates that she has. If he knew all of them, and their associations he wouldn't dare be threatening her with this drivel. It was simple. He didn't know how to attack her. Well, she concludes, lets see what the head honcho declares.

"He is on his way." says the yellow skinned female sharply, the writhing of her lekku betraying the sabacc face she adopts in response to Ash's challenge and tone. "If you try to run again, don’t bother stopping." It is in awkward silence that the two sit, eye to eye with only Ash's cup of coffee between them, but the minutes do not tick by forever. A stretch speeder can be seen approaching the cafe from the air and then landing in the lot outside, it idles there while no one emerges.

The yellow skinned female says bluntly, "You were already approached by Mr. Eson once. If you wish to speak with him directly you are invited to a drink within his private speeder. Otherwise you can talk to me."

Still leaning back, her mug of fanciful coffee in her hand, she regains eye contact with the Twi’lek. Her eyes harden as she hears, and then starts lip reading her words. She snorts. "You could use the exercise." She says snidely. Not desiring to put the ball fully into his court. Ash smirks after her final sip of her coffee. It was hot, and she had just ordered it. "We will see," She says flatly. Getting up very slowly, Ash starts to move around the table, no doubt the woman's eyes upon her.

Shifting her gait from simple civilian, to hunting predator, she stalks to behind the Twi’lek woman. "You should have left," she says as she throws the hot liquid at her head then backs away slowly from her. How hot coffee hurts. She barks out a single word, "Stay," forcefully, her hand to her side arm, as pitiful as it is. She gets moving to the door, her hearing useless right now to warn her of incoming danger, she memorises this female's face for a later encounter. Perhaps she'll go hunting later.

If the woman had stayed put it most likely wasn't due to Ash's desire and she knows that. Muttering to herself, she opens the door behind her and slips out. Knocking on the tinted window of the stretch speeder, Ash moves to a mostly blind spot to the occupants within, "Lets discuss this in the open," she says aloud. Getting into a speeder with a stranger was the first thing her parents had taught her not to do. Getting into one with a stranger who potentially wants to skin her is definitely not on the list of things to do.

You paged Cantrell with ‘Over the com, "I am at blah cafe, stretch speeder outside. Any aid local would be nice."' Well things seem to be taking a turn for the worse for this woman. Luckily, there was a saviour in the area. Lurking in the shadows of an alleyway, a shadowy figure quietly watches the scene unfold, a bit curious on what exactly is going on. The flowing black cloak covers most of the body of the man. He does nothing, just watching the scene.

It takes long, hard, determined bursts of will from Eson to endure the sight of one of the family so disrespected outright without re-enacting a calling card he has used before to bring justice to those he sees as threatening one he considers his own. But the stretch speeder remains in idle as the stalking, prepared woman approaches, as opposed to it careening at ramming speeds into her and the cafe store front. If Eson was not so intrigued by the knowledge contained in Ash's mind, he would have liked to have done away with her long ago. But she has proven so tenacious and resourceful and well travelled over the last few months of observation that the Maffi family regards as more than a mere insolent associate of their brethren's murderers.

Ash is responded to by the light whir of a gyro pulling the transparisteel aft window down several inches to accommodate discussion. Eson's voice, as well as a cloud of spicy smoke wafts from the darkened interior, "You've received your explanation. Will you take the Family seriously, young lady, and do something constructive for us, or will you continue to court the wrath of a people too weathered and hardened to care if you are a difficult mouse to toy with?"

She's still breathing. After the glop attempt on Etti IV, Ash suspected he wanted her alive. The fact that the Twi’lek woman is still seething at her, while Ash still draws breath, well, that puts this resourceful tooke higher up on the list of importance. "If you wanted me dead, you would have done in with me a long while ago," she says coolly, perhaps even flippantly, buying time for any local friends to get nearby. But as small a tooke is, it is big enough to kill a rancor. Course, said rancor needs to eat it, but it's still dangerous. "I do not like spice. I will /not/ inhale it. If you want to talk, get out of the speeder and sit and have some coffee. I'll order the iced tea." Her words are terms.

She does a glance at the surrounding buildings and notes whose about and does a ratio count, "Another thing, I don't want your people about. Tell them to scram and we will talk," Her demands finished, she pushes off of his speeder, her hand still near her weapon, where, no doubt several of his people have their's on the trigger. She was not about to bow to this Twi’lek’s demands. If he wanted whatever it was that she had, he should have just stuck with the glop. She had a terrible habit of making things very expensive. Course, how would he recognise her polished form with the woman who had help killing one of his own several years back? She grins wickedly and confidently.

Continuing to watch from the shadows of the alleyway, the Mandalorian's curiosity is peaked by the arrival of a stretch speeder. He watches it carefully, admiring the sleekness and beauty of it. It'd be a shame if he'd have to grenade it into orbit, it must've cost the man a fortune. But, for the moment, Cantrell stays put, curious to see what the young woman has gotten herself into again. She seems to be a magnet of attention lately, not a healthy trait for being an operative within the Sith.

There isn't a clear reason and rhyme to the movements of several of the occupants of the area and some seem rather nonchalantly placed with little to do or too much. Ringing the small openings and keeping to corners, A'estshy leads a small contingent of Maffi. The golden female, usually accustomed to more flashy ensembles sports a drab and very simple draped top of muted brown and fitted black pants. She lowers down next to one of the taller Twi'lek in the group. "I need two near the far side and I want three here. Take who you wish with you to the far side, stay in contact and I will bring another group around towards the rear in case our friend decides to run." Amber eyes slip on towards the woman in question as the golden woman touches the small ear piece and nods to the taller male Twi’lek at her side.

-       Axel hated Ord Mantell. He hated having to sneak around every time he came to this backwater planet. Too many damned NR-ites. He was a proud member of the New Sith Order, and the damnable Republic knew it. That meant he was a soldier of a military that the NR was at war with. Of course, above all, Axel was a fringer, a master of the underworld, and with that came the occasional trips to hostile planets in search of whatever he was after. The man had just finished conducting business when some of the local authorities seemed to take an interest in him. Whether it was real or just a bit of drug-induced paranoia was unknown, but to be on the safe side, Ax had dipped into an alleyway, followed a series of turns to make sure he lost them, and finally ended up in the small cafe. The smell assaulted his nostrils and he realized that all the running around had made him hungry. His eerily glowing blue eyes scanned the room as he quietly made his way deeper inside. (speaking in Basic)

The tall green Twi'lek nods at his orders and scans the group to make his selection. He extends a black gloved hand toward another blue Twi'lek and nods in the direction they need to go. They quickly make their way around to the far side. When they are in position he speaks into a comlink, "We're set."

The transparisteel windshield rolls down further and the ire-filled visage of Eson floats into view, the stern anger flowing from his gaze and furrowed brow easily the dominant feature in his expression. "I speak of the wilful persecution of thousands and you speak of an aversion to smoke. Your inconvenience hardly trumps the pain and suffering of the Twi'lek people." the door opens now, the whir of a larger gyro folding the hatch upward, to reveal Eson's lithe and crimson skinned form stepping out and in front of Ash. "I forgive your disrespect to my sister in the Cafe, and your association with the enemies of the Family only on the condition that you have honour enough to contribute to our efforts. Do not prove my intuition wrong, and do not presume that the Family will abandon their own territory that we might chat in private." The Twi'lek crimelord means business, that much is evident from his tone and his stance - but those who have known the rage filled being in the past would be surprised the encounter has not already come to blows. Eson has struck lethal blows for less offence. But where has he and the Maffi been over the last few years? The Hutts and the Sith have dealt the Twi'lek of New Kala'uun a penetrating blow indeed, it seems. "Negotiate with me." the Twi'lek crimelord bids, his lekku slithering silently along his shoulder. "I assure you negotiation is a preferable arrangement, but an arrangement there must be."

With a mad case of the munchies, Axel spent nearly fifty credits in the small diner. Of course, when he went for the creds, he exposed the view of the large pistol on his side and people seemed a bit nervous. Instead of taking a table and eating inside, the man thought it would be best to take his food out. With the three plates of various cuisines loaded into bags, and a couple of 'finger-foods' in hand, the man made his way out of the cafe. He had some kind of pastry stuffed in his mouth while he tried to free a hand to open the door. As soon as he makes his way outside, the pastry breaks and what wasn't held between his teeth falls to the ground. In an attempt to grab it, the hand holding the bag of food drops down with a jerk, causing the bag to tear open. Not only did the man lose the largest majority of his pastry, but the entire contents of the bag spills out into a sidewalk gutter, filled with only the gods knew what kind of filth. "Dammit!" the man exclaims, looking at all the wasted credits. There was a brief thought of turning back and getting more, but considering how nervous the patrons were of him already, he thought better of it. Instead, Axel just lights up a cigarette, hoping that the smoke will calm his cravings for at least a little while longer. (speaking in Basic)

His getting out of the stretched speeder confirms what she suspected. It's probably knowledge that he wants and she ain't willing to part with it. "You hound me for past sins of a man that I do not associate with, do not work with, and have cut all ties with. You dare to threaten me into submission for crimes of a Hutt against your people. If your people were stronger then maybe they would not be in the yoke of slavery," her words hold the ring of challenge and offence at his recent treatment of her. Apparently she doesn't take kindly to threats uttered, or she was testing his restraint. Ash meets his eyes with her own dark blue orbs and silently goads him before speaking again. "If you were even half as honourable as you claim to be, you would be going after Tritus yourself," then in a slightly demeaning tone, "Is it that you cannot stomach the man, Tyy'sun?"

Her eyes move swiftly to track those on the street. "/If/ you are through with threatening me, we /may/ be able to sit down and talk." Ash's eyes back on the man before her words are finished, her arms crossed at her waist and her posture had already shifted to a balanced stance. Perhaps she has stalled enough for aid, but she's not sure. None had yet to radio to her. All well, she was confident she could get out of this with her hide intact, for the most part.

The golden female leads a male Twi’lek of the blue persuasion around the edge of the lot, towards the Ash's back, sticking tightly to the buildings. Touching her comlink, she gazes towards the other portion of her group and nods. "Read you." She says, "Stay put where you are till you hear orders or find need to detain the target. Should weapons be pulled be prepared to defend Master Eson." Amber eyes bore into the back of the woman's head, a calm set to the Twi’lek’s gaze though ichan and ichun shift relentlessly against her back. The rifle strapped to her back is touched as Eson steps out and the female motions for her counterpart to get ready. Every person coming to and from the cafe is inspected, Shy tucking herself tightly against the building.

Hmm...more Twi'leks. Good for them, it'll just even out their odds a bit more. The Mandalorian takes a quick scan of the surrounding area, his onboard scanning system on his helmet spotting several of what appears to be more Maffi thugs. But wait...the new face strikes a familiar memory in Cantrell. He can't help but chuckle recognizing the face. Of course his chuckle does sounds similar to what an electric razor would sound like if it laughed. He continues to listen to the exchange between Tyy'sun and Ja'casha for a little while longer. With a nod to himself, he pushes himself forward.

"You're making a mistake, vod."

The Mandalorian emerges from the confines of the shadows offered by the alleyway, the 'Politician' in plain view. He casually makes his way a bit closer, offering the Twi'lek henchmen a slight nod. "You mess with any asset of mine, you mess with me. We go a long way, Tyy'sun." He stops about 15 feet away from the stretch limo, studying it's sleek features for a moment.

"That's a nice speeder...would be a shame to dent it."

Whether Ash wants to part with information or not, simple interaction often speaks volumes in and of itself. Cantrell's appearance speaks variable tomes. Ash's words, however, ring truth - her participation in the abduction and subsequent torment and murder of Twi'leks on Tatooine and abroad are guilt by proxy at best. Her attitude, however, marks her as a pleasure target. Eson endures another round of her mouth stoically, his boot falling a step in her direction as she berates him about Tritus and his hand brushing aside his cloak as he takes a solid stance before her and the newly arriving Cantrell. Axel escapes the crimelord's notice altogether, however, as he has Family in place to worry about such things should the need arise.

"Cantrell...” notes the crimson crimelord, a gloved hand motioning toward the powerful soldier, "Fitting that a man of your lack of loyalties would fall in with backstabbers and invertebrates. And a shame that you no longer observe the boon of exit granted to you by a Family who traditionally awards a severance package of death." Eson looks back at Ash, "Perhaps I have misjudged your connectedness." he says at length, a brow turning upward, "But it hardly excuses you. Your inexperience shows despite your dark company. You expect hospitality and free drinks from an organization defending their families and well being from the wrath of your employers."

Just his luck, Axel thinks to himself realizing just what in the hell is going on around him. He hits the alleyways to get away from the locals and keep out of trouble and what does he find here? Not only does he waste fifty creds on food he dropped in the damned gutter, but now he's less than 10 meters away from Tyy'sun Eson, Cantrell, and Ash, god knows how many Maffi types were floating around. The man takes a long drag from his cigarette and flicks the ashes onto the ground. With a long sigh, he moves to start approaching the stretch hover car. "Eson! Has been a long time, old friend," Axel says in an almost jovial tone. "How has life been treating you?" He manoeuvres his head around, taking a peak if he can of Tyy'sun's hands. "Get new thumbs?" He chuckles a bit and takes another drag off of his cigarette, blowing a wisp of smoke towards the Twi’lek. "Sorry about that little mishap. You know how cruel Sith Lords can be when they're making their little power plays onboard Imperial destroyers." Of course, but Axel's tone, the man was as far from being apologetic as one could get. (speaking in Basic)

As several new arrivals starts to close in on Eson, Shy signals the Twi’lek that is with her and speaks into her comlink. "Watch those two...” Her Ryl is heavily accented over the link. The rifle is drawn from her back and the golden female uses her place between the buildings as a well shadowed place and steps outs lowly to get a better aim, lowering one knee to help train the rifle upon the others. The two on the far side with her second in command also do the same, each taking up a place, ready to move in should any or all of the three near Eson prove to be a danger. She even says something in Ryl, eyeing Eson carefully for a reaction, amber eyes following his lekku as she moves closer, using another speeder as a block for her person.

Not too far off, within eye sight of the assembled group, the Quarren known as Thrask watches quietly. His hand holding tight around the hilt of his sword, his obsidian eyes inspecting each person in turn as their conversation is pickup loud and clear from a small mic A'estshy had hidden on herself. He didn't like this at all, and it showed on his face. The golden Twi’lek had told him about the call from Eson, and that she wanted to help him. But that didn't make Thrask like the idea at all. If things got bad, he would step in to help. But for now he stays hidden, watching and listening. So the other man was Cantrell... and now Axel was here too... maybe this would get ugly before it got better.

She knows that voice, but she keeps her smile from her features. Apparently her call for aid had been received, and surprise, surprise, Cantrell seems to know the crimson Twi'lek before her. And he him apparently. She glares at the Twi'lek as he insults the Mandalorian, but it is not her place to verbally defend him; Ash sets her jaw in response. "Only a coward would use a quarter of his minions to track down one little girl," she says darkly, never mind the fact that her response to his present hunting of her was to actually, for once, to swallow her pride and ask for help. She gathers her thoughts, and then is cut off as Axel's voice cuts through.

Just how many people did she know that know this Twi'lek? Quite a few, apparently is the answer. Unlike Cantrell, where she assumed it was an answer to her request, she figures Axel was either here to gloat or by happenchance. Ash doesn't for once figure that she's out of the woods yet, as what she'll cautiously term as allies appear. She watches the Twi'lek's hands, but doesn't back away as he approaches her. "Seems you are a popular man, Tyy'sun," she says teasingly, "Perhaps I should leave you with your old friend and the voice." If there was to be anymore gathering bodies to this little taco stand of a stretch speeder and cafe, the wandering Military in charge of keeping the peace might start clueing in.

She snickers when the comment about her inexperience reaches her ears. Ash is learning and learning very fast. Course she feels that this petty lil crimelord should keep his attention on those that cause his grievance, rather than look to create collateral damage. She measures the distance between the two of them, making a mental note should it come down to a fight, something she very much would like to avoid. She was in full health, unlike the last two meetings where she had healing ribs of the broken nature, so she wasn't worried about injury.

"I know where my loyalties lie, Tyy'sun." Cantrell steps a bit closer, resting his ZCF across his shoulders. Unlike Axel, who prefers to travel around incognito, the Mandalorian does not care if people see him running around the streets with more firearm than an armoury. He revels in the fear and panic caused by those around him. But for once, Cantrell isn't looking for a fight. He caused enough damage to the same planet not too long ago.

"I wouldn't question his courage." Cantrell looks over towards Ash, his helmet seemingly coming to life with a scowl, the rebreather on his helmet hissing loudly as he breathes. "He's proven it to me back on Coruscant several years back." "But it seems his wisdom has been a bit...clouded."

The arrival of Axel definitely surprises the Mandalorian, guess he was in the area too. Can't blame them, Ord Mantell does has some good places for food, despite being a dirty Jedi pig-dog infested planet. He acknowledges him with a nod, returning his attention back to Tyy'sun, allowing Axel do the speaking. He's better at it, anyways.

Cantrell's just better at expressing his words with the Politician.

The time seemed right for the Bothan Spy, this congregation was ripe for Spynet intelligence. As he often does, Besk coloured his facial fur to temporarily blot out the revealing lightning bolt patch of fur across his face. Doused already in the smell of Corellian Ale, he pulled his hood over his head, which only partially covered his face. The dirty old cloak gave the perfect image of a drunk bum. However ironic to see a drunk bum Bothan, Besk stumbled out of the building he was temporarily hiding out in. The building, being a couple doors down from the cafe where the commotion was coming from. He stumbled out, and began to sing quietly to himself, hugging the wall for mock support, heading in the direction of the fun fest.

Axel's appearance sends a series of twitches down the crimelord's spine, and the hairs raise across his skin. Ash is seemingly discarded in his mind, whatever words having come from her and Cantrell being noted but not responded to, a flush of rage deepening the crimson of his skin. "Axel!" snarls the Twi'lek as the man's boasting and mocking words fall over him. A few footfalls bring the cloaked Eson toward the man, black gloved fists balled and an expression of malice distinctly chiselled into his brow. No retort would do from Tyy'sun. The offensive remarks are both salt in an old wound and lemon juice as well coming the very man who sunk blades into his hand so long ago after a brief alliance of forces.

If A'estshy and her team are watching Eson's lekku, they are rippling in signals to action, calling in the guard so to speak with subtle gestures. The orders are not to attack, but to stage a front along side Tyy'sun and to execute his mandates on the field. "Leave this place, schutta!" snarls Eson, storming right up to Axel, spittle flying as he goes, "Off of my streets!" Shy shifts outwards from the speeder, attempting to get closer and find herself a better angle for a target if she needs one. Friends or not old friends, the golden female lifts the rifle and begins to aim down it. Digging her clothed knee into the ground, she now extends past the speeder, eyes narrowing further, studying those around Tyy'sun, taking note of weapons and more. A crackling voice comes over her comlink and she presses the ear piece into her ear, cradling her hand over it. Lekku still and she nods, whispering back into the mouthpiece attached to her wrist. She is up then, slowly creeping forward as she speaks into her comlink. Two other groups of Twi’lek stand, moving in towards the location with blaster's ready. Shy is closest though, moving in on the backs of Ash, Cantrell and Axel. Her basic is heavily accented as she speaks, "Now you are outnumbered, you heard Master Eson. Leave." THe woman is calm despite the reactions of her master, her golden eyes simmering as her rifle remains poised and aimed at Cantrell. The larger green Twi’lek is aiming on Axel and the others in turn, just pick their favourite.

-       With a hardened look, Axel stares the man down. Having worked around the Sith for so long, Axel had developed nerves of steel, and little intimidated him. He'd spent years on Ryloth, living amongst the Twi'lek species, mostly partaking of their narcotics, but during that time, the subtle languages of the Lekku-speak had become something he could pick up on enough to know when a person was communicating with others. He may not know exactly what was conferred, but it was enough to know he wasn't in the best of positions. "Eson," he says calmly, though with authority, using the man's own language, "you should really learn to take a joke. You should also call off your minions before they get themselves hurt." His eyes move from Eson for just a moment, assessing the situation he has managed to get himself in. 'I've been in worse,' he thinks to himself and just offers a sinister smile to the crimson Twi’lek as he turns to face him again. "You may think you have me outnumbered, Eson, but you would be wrong. A simple word is all it would take and a pair of bombers would rain hell upon you and yours if anything were to happen to me. And it would all happen before the Republic would have the slightest chance to respond." (speaking in Basic)

Thrask watches the goings on with his breath held, and as he reads Tyy’sun’s lekku from the distances he can only let out a frustrated sigh. Was there no end to this red skinned mans stupidity? When Shy aims her weapon at the Mandalorian Thrask stands from his place and begins to move into position, his blaster coming free as he looks over the group. Her command to Axel bringing a smile to his lips as he continues to move forward, joining the group and coming to stand not far from where Axel does. "Hello again Eson." Thrask announces his presence to the group. Blaster in hand as he moves past the group to come and stand beside A'estshy. Before he turns to Ash and shakes his head. "I never doubted that I was right about you Ash." He says in a deep voice.

She doesn't stop watching Tyy'sun as she slowly steps back towards Cantrell. She nods to the Mandalorian's assessment of the Twi'lek's courage. Perhaps once he was courageous, but right now, with herself out numbered each time she crossed his path, she rather doubts that he is still so. Though he did appear out in the open, perhaps it was his foolish pride that keeps him so, after all, how many snipers did he employ and have at any one time. Her arms still crossed, she for now remains silent as Cantrell speaks, showing the Knight respect, there the distance is comfortable for the woman, if she has to go into hand to hand. Hopefully with so many familiar faces around, he'll just step into his speeder and leave her be. But, she rather doubts it, for as Cantrell said, his wisdom must be clouded.

She sniffs the air distastefully as the stank odour comes her way. She takes a moment to look at the drunken Bothan, her eyes narrowed in disgust, before turning her attention swiftly to Eson. She chuckles as the Twi'lek flies into a rage, forgetting about her. She definitely needs to learn the story between Axel and Tyy'sun. It might be enough to distract him should the two of them meet again. The Lekku moving, she frowns severely, she has no idea what they're saying, but they're saying something. And Axel's voice dead calm, well, that's different.

Hearing the female voice behind her, well, Ash turns her head, and recalls the woman instantly, "A'estshy, no need for that here," she says calmly, "We shall be on our way," Finally a person that Ash knows with reason in her head. Though she throws a scowl at Thrask. "And you hang out with cowards, Thrask," she replies evenly. Let him think what he will, it was his daughter that slept with the half-breed over there. She really did not have time for another round of bickering with the thrice damned abomination right now. "Why don't you do something useful and calm the situation down," she says mildly sarcastic, before moving back again slightly, to watch both A'estshy and Thrask.

Well now...the parties about to start it seems. The Mandalorian isn't too familiar with the whole lekku twirling and the Ryl language. Never really had the time or the need to study it. Guess his negligence will pay him back some. Though knowing from before that there were more goons here, the amount that suddenly come out with guns drawn does make the Mandalorian a bit...disappointed. And now, a gigantic squid-face enters the picture. He knows this man, though never had the pleasure to ever meet him in person. "Ib'tuur jatne tuur ash'ad kyr'amur. (Today is a good day for someone else to die.)" The Mandalorian mumbles in Mando'a, letting out a soft, mechanical chuckle. Not having the slightest clue to what Axel just said, Cantrell assumes the worst: he's got work to do.

There was a reason for that cloak draping over his right side: it hides most of his thermals. His hand appears from underneath with a shiny, magnificent little ball of doom, whining shrilly as he slides the thumb trigger up.

"Outnumbered yes...but you made a mistake, dala (woman). You never have a Mando's back to you."

Noting the conversation and the participants in his golden memory banks, Besk quietly and rather stealthily stumbles behind A'estshy and Thrask standing next to her. Because the center of attention is on this confrontation, it would be fairly easy to not see a drunken bum Bothan creeping on the scene. Inside, Besk laughs at what he is about to do. Life is a game, as is to most Bothans, so why not play it well? The danger of what is to come could potentially be bad for the Bothan, but that is part of the fun of being a spy and a piece in the game. Besk trips and slams, rather hard into the back of A'estshy, throwing up a little bit as he falls. "Do I know you from some place?" He questions the Quarren, slurring his speech as he does. 

"Oh.. " notes Eson, his shouting downshifting into a voice of average decibel, yet somehow retaining all the bile it held as a roar. "I am quite sure that between us we can re-enact great battles - so bring your pink stripped bombers and your art deco carriers it matters little to me. I'll see you off my streets as a matter of principle - even you know better than to enter someone else’s house without knocking first, unless you intend to brings that house down." The crimelord smirks, "Is that why you are here, Axel? TO bring my house down again? To leverage your Sith allies against me? Off my streets until you have paid your debt to me in one form or another!" Every few moments someone new from Eson's past enters the fray and brings tension to the crimelord's already stressed demeanour and mind.

Thrask's arrival and greeting do several things to Eson. They send a fresh batch of twitches down his spine, and yet bolster his poise nonetheless, as he deduces the Quarren warrior is here for Shy's benefit, which places him as a temporary ally, the lack of aggressiveness in Thrask's greeting leads him to believe this as well, and so Tyy'sun accepts in his mind that he will not have to worry about Thrask and so rolls with the notion, returning all focus on to Axel. If it is to be a straight up battle so be it, but the crimelord did not wish the expense and tragedy that would ensure from such a titanic clash. He does not back down from the man who betrayed him a sick and sinister way to the Sith years ago. In the heat of the moment and his senses not as attuned as they once were to every stirring in his immediate vicinity, the drunk Bothan goes unnoticed.

Ash states the golden one's name and it causes the Twi’lek to blink and become distracted a moment, confusion writ across her face. It causes enough time for Besk to crash into her. The weight of the Bothan isn't overly heavy; it is more of the fact that Shy is caught off guard. As the rank drunk barrels into her mid-question, the Shy withdraws her finger from the trigger and stumbles to the side away from Thrask. She gazes up at Cantrell then, his bomb noted as she gets her footing once more and attempts to raise the rifle up on him again. Shy looks a bit out of sorts now, feeling the stench warmth of some of the Bothan's past meal and drink slip down and into her boot. She wrinkles her nose and coughs a bit, attempting to keep her attention on the Mandalorian.

With a soft chuckle, Axel slowly reaches into a vest pocket, pulling out a stack of credits and tosses them to the wind. Nearly 6000 creds scatter around him, mere pocket change. "Debt paid in full," he says, once again using the Twi'lek's own language. "And no, Eson, I thought you but a faded memory. I had other business on planet. The Zhao is of little concern to me," Axel says as he switches back to basic. "I come and go as I damned well please, always have and always will. I did not come here to start a war, but I'll be damned if I let your sorry, tentacle-headed, excuse for a sentient being threaten me or push me around." With a quick glance to Cantrell, he offers a chuckle and takes a long drag from his cigarette. "Put your little toy away, Knight. There is no need for bloodshed or dismemberment here this night," he says, once again turning to face Tyy'sun. "Wouldn't you agree, old friend?" The way he says 'Old Friend' is done with a sneer. "I think the republic has enough problems rather than clean all of our entrails off of this little alley."

Thrask replies to Ash with a simple deep tone, his head shaking still. "Your words mean nothing Ash." His head looking her over again and the other apparent NSO lackeys. "So shut your mouth, and save us all the pain of shrill annoyance." Letting that be for now he is suddenly stopped by the Bothan bumping into A'estshy. Lucky for him Thrask is not jumpy on the trigger; else he may have found himself with one less head. But as the thing speaks to him in a familiar, but unknown, language he just shrugs. "I don't speak that language, it's best if you leave." That not taken care of, hopefully, the Quarren turns back and regard Cantrell. Someone he had also heard much about, but had yet to meet. His obsidian eyes inspecting the man even as he produces a pathetic weapon in the hopes of intimidating this group. Shaking his head at the mandalorian, Thrask turns back to Shy and asks her. "You alright?" Yes, it did seem that Thrask was on Tyy’sun’s side in this particular situation.

Thermal Detonator, hmmm... seems that Ash didn't really need to watch the Knight's back. She grins, accepting whatever Chance and Fate, the twins who love to screw around with her life, have in store for her with that silver orb. She casts a glance behind her at the two males, "Definitely need to learn Ryl," she mutters under her breath. It truly annoys her that she doesn't understand half of the things said around her and given that the Maffi seems intent on pursuing her, well now, it might be a good idea to learn the thrice darned language. Axel's words are clear and she smirks back to the puke splattered form of A'estshy. Poor Twi'lek woman, how embarrassing. All well, she should learn to pay more attention.

Resisting giving Thrask the oh so famous one finger salute, she watches him go to Shy's side to help her back up. Pondering the art that is side stepping and heading down an alley, to let all of these old friends get reacquainted. She starts to shift herself that way, more to actually get a different scope of the area than to actually bolt. But an escape route, as she demonstrated earlier in this whole affair, is always a good thing to have on hand.

"Bah..." The Mandalorian scoffs loudly, switching the trigger on the thermal back down, and the shrill tone stops. If anyone knows how to kill the fun for the Mandalorian, it's Axel. Once it's off his hand disappears under his cloak, stowing the thermal away for a future use.

"You're lucky, Tyy'sun. I wouldn't hesitate to take everyone out with me." Cantrell states simply.

Besk brushes himself and mumbles something about 'People always getting in -HIS- way...' He scoffs drunkenly towards Thrask and Shy, beginning his stumbled pace once again, this time in the direction of Axel. As he shuffles his way across the street, he wipes his puke-mouth with the back of his paw. Seeing the credits fly, he picks up his excitement and his bum dance towards Axel. "One manths junk his huh-nuther mans ... treasure." Besk slurs out as he nears the credits.

"It doesn’t work like that, Axel." states the crimelord unequivocally, "You don’t have business on my streets here in New Alderaan. You don’t have passage and you don’t have my blessing, and I assure you my blessing goes a long way in navigating the business terrain in a wide sphere around Drosshill. If you want to make good on your debt to me you will delivery me agents responsible for the Hutt inquisition on Twi'leks years ago in the outer rim." Tyy'sun snarls and slams his fist into his other hand and turns away, disgusted. The ops was not going as plan - the Twi'lek resurgence was meeting great resistance - priorities are confused - but New Alderaan's underworld remains firmly in Eson's grip, as well as that of New Kala'uun.

Eson nods his honest support of Cantrell not detonating his giant palm bomb by agreeing with Axel. "Bloodshed need not ensue, given that you depart my streets, Mr. Vichten, and the next time you approach me do not bring jokes - bring me justice or bring me war!"

The golden female studies the woman as she starts to back off and her brows furrow in reaction to all of this. As the Bothan moves on, at least some of her hair is fresh, despite the slipping ugh that is creeping like a life stealing sentient down her leg. Shuddering, the Twi’lek attempts to hold still so as not to aid the slow progression downward any faster. "I am fine...” She replies to Thrask. "just a bit..." she does not finish, instead keeps her eyes trained on each one in turn and not relinquishing the hold of her blaster. When she is able, Ash is studied harder. But as Eson yells and becomes more irritable, she turns her attention to him, "Master Eson?" She waits for her orders.

Axel gives Thrask a bit of a shrewd look, but says nothing to the Quarren. He then gives a glance towards Cantrell to make sure the man put away the grenade. Here lately, the half-breed had truly grown to hate anyone having grenades around him. He'd suffered too much in the way of 'friendly fire' when it came to the explosive devices. Flicking his cigarette to the ground, Axel listens as Tyy'sun tells him again to leave his streets. Axel was going to respond to Tyy'sun in his usual sarcastic and vengeful manner, but he was at a loss for words. There were few beings in the galaxy that Axel truly hated, unless you counted the entirety of the Bothan species. And here was this... this thing... rushing at him, all covered in cheap booze and puke. "Get away from me, you filth!" Axel exclaims, shoving his left hand at the Bothan. Already, a solid whirring noise is heard coming from the cybernetic as it primes up for a full-burst discharge of it's repulse field.

"We shouldn't have come here." He says to A'estshy in reply, in a quiet voice meant just for her ears. "I don't see why Eson needed you here for something like this..." Thrask looks again over the crowd, wondering at what the point of all this constant bickering was. He didn't much care to be honest. The only person he cared about was standing beside him, and he wanted them both out of this place. Let Tyy'sun deal with his own problems without dragging them into them. His hand still holds the blaster, ready to attack if needed. But at least it seemed like there was a suitable distraction. "Eson." Thrask says to the lethan Twi’lek. "This is not the time for such things. Not anymore." He speaks in Ryl to the man, it obvious to Thrask that questioning Ash was not going to be fruitful now that the banshee had backup.

War, justice, silly Twi’lek one will bring his death the other, won't be coming to his satisfaction. Still quiet and watching the scene, she casts a glance down her chosen exit should she need it, to see what obstacles will be in her way. Her eyes focus on the Twi'lek Maffi boss, seems what he wants he cannot have, a smile plays upon her lips at this. It wasn't a superior smile, but rather guarded and somewhat relieved.

Her eyes float to drunkard, rambling to the Axel. She shakes her head, big mistake there, all well, the Bothan may sober up if he lives or is nearly missed. Her hands still at her waist, she puts her back to the wall and continues to observe. The so-called banshee, not so shrill right now.

Besk had heard of such -arm-aments of destruction before and studied them while serving in the Bothan Military before it fell to the Empire. Although small, Besk is quite quick on the feet. Instead of feeling the blow that he knew to be quite severe, he quickly dodges out of the fist's way, falling again to the ground momentarily, to regain his drunken stature. He begins to stumble away from Axel, deciding it was time to head back to Bothawui. As he stumbled away from Axel's war-arm, he mumbled something about, 'Unpure species...hah, missed."

Tyy'sun turns away as Axel lashes out at the Bothan bum, the sneer not having left his face. Thrask's words resonate within the crimelord, and the crimson Twi'lek signals with a hand to his Family. The Twi'lek in the area begin to disperse, holstering weapons, throwing cowls over their heads, and dissolving into the shadows of the streets of Ord Mantell. Eson had made his desires known to his enemies. Knows the word will spread in the vines of the underworld throughout the slice. Knows too the Hutts will be listening. Business for Axel will get difficult in the heart of the New Republic, but that is the best the Twi'lek mafia family can afford to produce against the man in these uncertain times. It certainly is not the moment for battle, as Thrask has pointed out.

Returning to his speeder, Eson casts a dark look at Ash and raises his gloved hand to the side of his head in a 'call me' gesture before he looks to Thrask, "You are invited to dine aboard Pahgan, Barrien.. you both are...” he bids A'estshy as well. "I have something important to discuss with you."

With an unhappy nod the Quarren begins to head toward the hover vehicle, A'estshy taking the cue from Tyy'sun as well and walking with him. He lets her enter first, looking again over toward Axel, Cantrell, and finally Ash. "Go near Austin again, and I will kill you." Thrask is deathly serious at this point, the woman’s true allegiances now falling in the light. She wasn't a slaver, she was worse now. With that said he enters the vehicle and closes the door behind him, not waiting or even allowing Ash to reply before he is gone and the speeder is flying off and away from the band of cretins. Once inside the speed he looks toward Tyy'sun, while at the same time using his own jacket sleeve to wipe away as much of the Bothans bile from her. "Yes. We need to talk."

Switching to Bothese, as one should be well versed in the idiocy of thine enemies, Axel mutters, "Why you little..." as he draws his sidearm. The massive MWC .48 Enforcer was an intimidating weapon and a foolish one to fire in such an area as Ord Mantell, when one is technically a criminal. He levels the weapon at the furry alien and every little voice in his head tells him that he should pull the trigger, but for some reason he doesn't. With a flourish-like twirl, the man reholsters the sidearm. Turning to Tyy'sun, with a gaze of pure fire on his face as the Twi'lek moves to enter the limo, Axel states, and this time in Ryl, "This is your domain, and for that I will not be the first to start aggressions on it, Eson." He pauses a moment, speaking between clinched teeth. "What business I do on this planet does not concern the Maffi nor the Republic, and honestly I was not aware I was actually on Zhao grounds. Do not, however, take this as an apology. When and if we meet again, I will not be so openly friendly." Of course, the man never really was openly friendly to begin with. Then again, Axel was a bit of an egomaniac and sociopath, so his words should never truly be taken to heart.

Ash shakes her head at Tyy'sun's call him gesture. As if she would willingly get into contact with the scummy one. She quirks a brow at the Bothan's swiftness then smirks. However, when she finally starts picking up Thrask's words she glares at him, "Big words for a critter that goes after unarmed women and can't finish a job," she sneers back at him. She was fond of the child he speaks of, one that was brilliant and he probably undervalued her anyways. But she'll cross that stone when it comes. She watches the speeder he and A'estshy get into, although it's common enough. Hearing the tone, but not understanding Axel's words, Ash raises a brow in cautious curiosity, but says nothing. The man was in a bad mood again, course, and when was he ever in a good mood?

As Besk shuffles his way off the street and into the shadows of the night, he grins to himself as he straightens his posture and regains his regal walk, all the while, keeping his vomit cloak on. With this sort of a meeting, the Bothan Spynet will surely profit from Besk's near-death experience.

The statement pretty much comes as a declaration of war, but something about Axel's mannerism hints to Eson that his words are knee-jerk in nature. All except for the part about not knowing this was Maffi territory. Then again, considering everyone who entered the fray, one by one, agents of Eson's past - and haunting agents at that - the crimelord cannot help but look on the encounter as having a purpose. What the message is the Twi'lek has not figured out, despite the meditations within his lekku on the topic. He can no longer read the surface thoughts of the beings he encounters; can no longer draw on powerful reserves of strength and speed to dominate the path before him. The crimelord is a shadow of his former force. And somehow Eson believes that Axel has something to do with that. Likely a result of his own mental abnormality and culture based logic. To Axel he says, "I want agents of the Twi'lek inquisition." a simple review of the possibility of reconciliation between the two. And then the crimelord and his Family and strange ally are gone, to the shadows and to the skies.