RPlog:Sith Politics

While the casino is busy as always, with many different types of species, and walks of life, from rich businessmen and their escorts, to low ranking useless criminal wannabe's. Quite a few areas are crowded with waitresses constantly serving drinks and the like; while one of the sabacc tables seems busy, at least with spectators, while a few men continue their mid-stakes gambling, looking as though they're quite enthralled with the game. The sound of casino chips hitting the table, and well mannered, calm sounding insults occasionally go between them, whilst Dareus makes his silent bets, before having a sip of ice water from one of the tall glasses that sit near him.

Sitting in a chair at one empty table, Cade sits with his back to the door. He leans over his drink one hand wrapped around it, the other free near the grip of his blaster hidden under his bantha-leather jacket. His blonde hair hangs down to conceal his eyes. He does not move, as if he is in deep concentration watching something in his drink.

A few less than pleasant words come flying from a Trandoshan while he throws his cards towards the center of the table, although that's more or less the worst reaction, the other people surrounding Dareus' table, basically mannered and seasoned players. Without much emotion, or just simply not caring, he slides the stack of chips towards himself, tossing a large demoniation onto the tray of a passing waitress who smiles at him. As he stacks his new winnings, he eyes the Trandoshan with a half smirk, "Screaming about it won't help you win. I hope you realize that." It's just a quiet bit of advice that he gives in passing; he puts a holding marker at his seat while he stands up to stretch and take another sip from the water beside him, "Just give me a few minutes." Walking off towards the bar area, he pops several pills into his mouth from a silver container while bartender hands him another glass of a clear, fizzing liquid. Without a thank you, he turns and leans against the bar, looking around while he sips the drink.

Mmm, it's been too long since she last swung by here. Johanna is secretly glad that not much has changed as far as the interior of the place goes; her brother's actions on Nar Shaddaa have altered some of the social climate but it seems that the House of Sabacc has been left largely unaltered by the fracas. Hadn't she been in here with Dain once and punched that other girl in the face? Or was that... oh dear. In an instant she's sidestepped a drunken Sullustan who goes crashing into the nearest serving droid, sending the mechanical creature sprawling onto the floor. Ah, yes. Nothing has changed at all. "Charmed, I'm sure," the pilot grunts by way of reply to a howling fellow who shrieks about his losses and demands to know why Johanna has robbed him of his money (she has done no such thing!), "But I think you've got the wrong person."

Hearing a rucous coming from a few tables away, Cade turns in his chair to see the Trandoshan throwing a temper tantrum. Shaking his head he watches as the man stands from the table and walks to the bar. Watching after him Cade smirks as he notices the man down some pills from a container. The smirk was for the wondering what type of drug that was that he was downing, cause most of the people on this planet were addicted to some form of narcotic or another.

It doesn't take Dareus long to hear some person or another whining about losing money; especially not here. Probably the reason so many drinks were free. His attenion is slightly distracted from the throbbing in the back of his head, which kind of is visible with his reaction to some of the bright lights that go off from lugjack machines, and he's rather quick to avert the eyes for now; but offers a casual nod, raising his drink to the man who half smirks at him. Finishing the drink quickly, Dareus pulls the cylinder back out and half looks at it, glancing back at the bartender, "Gimme another, they must have got the dosage wrong....stupid doctors." Rubbing his temple slightly, he leans patiently against the bar while he glances around and spots a vaguely familiar face, through the somewhat blurry vision the migraine is causing; but he quickly turns back to accept the freshly filled glass, adding another 2 pills down his gullet.

Trying to make her way through the crowd is like fighting three currents at once. One is always moving towards the door, one towards the bar, and the other disperses itself among the many tables and machines to be found. Finally Johanna gives up and lurks near a table, grabbing a drink from a passing droid and sulking a little. Okay, the crowd is maybe the only thing that she's not happy about. Getting one's feet stepped on is only funny the first time around! After four or five times it just hurts... not to mention the nuisance of being jostled around so many sentients who probably haven't cleaned themselves in a week.

Sitting at his table he nods back to the man at the bar when he nods at him. Cade then turns around looking about when he sees someone familiar walk in the door. Holding up a hand he motions hoping the gesture is seen.

Some of the pain in the back of his head slowly starts to fade to a dull ache that's beginning to get tiresome for the Captain. He stops a waitress while still standing at the bar; before he takes a seat, "Collect my winnnings from table 12, will you; I'm done playing for now." She smiles and nods, considering he's tipped her a small fortune just for water; meanwhile Dareus continues to glance around while his vision becomes more clear, even out of the corner of his eye, he spots another vaguely familiar face, but it doesn't place to him, just yet. Crossing his arms over themselves for a moment, he glances around again quickly before leaning into the bartender and sliding the drink back, "Change it up, Corellian Whiskey." He makes a size motion with his hand for a rather large drink of it, before he keeps his attention partially on the man he saw wave; and glancing over to where he thinks he saw another, but Dareus doesn't seem completely sure.

Lanil glances about the gambling den, and spots a familiar face in the crowd, his new friend Cade. Nodding to him, he drapes his jacket over a chair at the table, "Be right back, I need a drink." Walking over to the bar, he orders a Lum, his usual drink of choice. Sensing that he's still being watched, he catches sight of another familiar face, but in an unfamiliar uniform. Taken aback, Lanil finds himself talking to himself, "Is that? No, can't be....although..." Shaking his head dismissivly, he takes his drink and heads back over to join Cade.

Pehaps it would behoove her simply to stand still and keep tabs on the movement of the patrons. Having encountered Korolov only days before, Johanna has to be sure that nothing else is afoot. That is, nothing out of the ordinary. Despite her decision to remain in one spot her elbow is clipped by a demented-looking human woman in heels that are much too high. "Oh, for the love of..." Seconds later she is rewarded with the sight of the woman tripping over her own feet. Something within Johanna is darkly pleased. "Yeah -- be careful about those, I hear most gals who bought them ended up with a broken ankle," the pilot calls in a none too helpful fashion.

He gives a casual glance towards Lanil, it suddenly clicks in his head, letting a smirk form across his face while the whiskey arrives, Dareus taking a long, and seemingly missed sip from the glass. His eyes close for a moment, while his eyes follow the familiar man who tried to end his Navy career, before catching yet another face he recognizes, all too well. A shiver slides up his spine for the briefest of moments and he turns back to the bartender, exchanging a few words with an idle laugh before an anonymous Rum Punch heads towards Johanna, the smirk broadening before it disappears as the waiter reaches her table. After some time his waitress finally arrives with a smile, "Captain Dareus, your winnings." He gives her a polite nod while he puts the credit chits into a pocket, smirking at her for a moment, "You can keep the 100 you lifted from the stack. Our secret." He gives her a quick wink before the look of 'get outta here' comes across his face to her.

The old man had all intentions of simply having a nice relaxing drink and some good conversation tonight, but now he's been unnerved. The sighting of Dareus here has him...confused. Taking a seat at his table, he doesn't even seem to want his drink anymore. Sitting perfectly still for a moment, his mind is racing with thoughts. Dareus was exiled in the wake of the Kreldin Affair, so what is he doing wearing a vaguely Imperial uniform? Unable to contain his curiosity, he takes a big swig from his glass, and heads over. On the way over, he questions a waitress about the man who is supposedly Dareus, "Oh yes sir, that's Captain Dareus. An interesting case him." Lanil nods absentmindedly and comes up behind the Captain. "Ahem. 'Captain' Dareus, I presume? This is an interesting surprise..."

"Wait... from who?" She's not one to accept random drinks, not even while cruising the casinos and seedier establishments of Nar Shaddaa, far from the prying eyes of the other Jedi. "Anonymous only means that I haven't given you your tip yet," the pilot interrupts as the server tries to tell her that he can't divulge that sort of information. And really, she's got money to burn. As expected, the sight of fifty free credits makes him roll over soon enough. He gestures towards Dareus. "Good man," Johanna pats the server on the shoulder, pushing past him and zeroing in on the kill. Ah, Dareus. Not even smart enough to save his own hide. She doesn't bother to say hello; her boot smashes into the seat supporting him and collapses it quite easily. "Really. Imperials ARE all the same, though I hear you were kicked out? Not any cleverer for it, that much is obvious." It seems a smoke is in order.

He's been no stranger to running into Imperials, and Ex-Imperials the like, since he'd been exiled. The voice is easily familiar while a half smirk crosses Dareus' face, before taking a quick sip of whiskey while he turns, and nods politely, "Commissar Jast..." It's polite enough of a tone, not surprised. Pushing his own afflictions and symptoms, as he'd done so well throughout his Imperial Career, he raises an eyebrow, "I haven't seen you since....well, the return of my medals and my Navy Cross presentation, I think." A finger lightly scratches his chin, "Here on business?" Truly, if Jast was till in the Empire, he wouldn't have a chance to know about it; so it's left to assumptions at this point. While he's about to take a sip from his whiskey, only a few short seconds find the glass floating in mid air while the person who was holding it, is swiftly en route to the floor, although only shortly after the back of his head bounces off the bar top, aggrivating his headache even more. The glass, landing next to him, shatters quickly, sending an almost amusing memory of Corellia, one of the last things he saw before he woke up on the floor of a bar. "Nice to see you too, Johanna..." He rubs the back of his skull while he looks up at her with a raised eyebrow, "Can't you just ever say hello?" He starts to make his way to his feet, the bartender sliding a new whiskey on the house to the Captain, a quick sip sliding down his throat before he smiles between the woman and man he's now standing, seatless, in front of. "Yeah; they kicked me out; actually...basically the Republic did too; on some half witted murder charges as I recall, guess NRI didn't like the idea of me going before the Senate with their interrogation tactics. You sure are getting Imperial over there." Yeah; it's a cheap shot, but he really doesn't care, she spilled the first drink he's had in months, and now he's got the pounding headache back.

"I'm a Damion. We're not terribly polite," Johanna shrugs, watching Dareus over the end of her smoke, "Imperial tendencies notwithstanding, the Republic is still my affiliation of choice. I exist to serve -- and to eradicate nuisances." Her gaze slides over to Lanil, "You keep company with Mister Dareus here. Are you a nuisance too?" Now she's just being difficult! Another shrug. "Regardless, I would have thought that by now you'd found better ways to pass the time than drinking your brains out." She sniffs for a moment, then glares at the former Imp. "You've been hanging around my brother. No wonder you're drinking. Disgusting, the lot of you."

Lanil doesn't miss a beat, and just as Dareus begins to fall backwards, Lanil steps back to raises his drink in a neutral salute, "Good evening Johannna, nice to see you again..." Last time he had seen her had been just after the Sixth Battle of Coruscant; that was an interesting evening for everyone, to say the least. "Actually I wanted just as much to end Mr. Dareus' career as you want to eradicate him period. Granted my motives were different, but still..." Pausing, he continues, "And while the New Republic may be your affiliation of choice, mine happens to be the Empire. Granted I am my own man now, but it is still a free galaxy...more or less. You are free to...be yourself...we are free to imbibe ourselves until we pass out."

When one has spent years at loosing and winning fortunes, where else would you expect to find them than in a gaming house. Having just earned a years worth of wages by the simple act of taking a ship from one person to give to another, the purple and brown haired woman was willing to take a few more chances. Arissa had arrive on the moon just moments ago, and as soon as she could made her way to the House of Sabacc. Snatching a drink from the serving girl, and tossing a credit the Pirate Captain wandered deeper into the patrons and game tables. She had a few things to drown, a bitter taste and a few memories were top the list.

He chuckles slightly, while he takes a sip of his whiskey, setting it back down and dusting off his tunic, "Actually, you spilled the first drink I was about to have in months...must be a side effect of being aroun the Jedi, I've been getting a lot of that lately." Yeah; it's condescending, and he loves it, but he never really says it in an angered or malcontent type fashion. "Of course I've been with your brother, someone always has to choose the better side to be on." Dareus turns his attention back to Lanil with a half smirk, "Well, the Empire was good while it lasted; but there's far more out there than Admirals and Naval life..." He just leaves it at that for the time being, but turns back to the initial conversation with a slightly spiteful tone, "Besides, you tried...a pathetic excuse for a Grand Admiral succeeded. Fortunately that little problem has been reconciled, and is probably a stain on the Emperor's Throne room floor." It's pretty blunt, but most likely accurate.

She remembers this one... vaguely... and a snort escapes her. "And what, pray tell, brings the Empire to this sorry excuse of a place? Corellia I can understand -- the drinking's good, and the folk are friendly enough -- but really, isn't this slumming it?" Another glance to Dareus before Johanna again shifts her attention to Lanil, "Are you quite sure that this little one is worth it? I have no real desire to eradicate him, my energies are presently engaged with more suitable pursuits. I only wonder at his choice of company. I fear for my sibling's sanity, surely to be around him is a recipe for disaster." When the conversation turns to the subject of Danik a smirk threatens to crack her otherwise stern demeanor. "Poor Kreldin. I respected him as a pilot, but as a planner of intrigues, he failed miserably."

Business was business however, and seeing as Arissa worked for Arissa only the heated discussion held an interest. That interest was information because information meant money. She sought both, for personal use or to petal and thus she made her way closer to the small group debating the rise and fall of political state of the empire. And the fate of one Grand Admiral. Funny, it was that very man's ship she had stolen. Gauging by the hints she could pick up, he was dead. Had she know that, she would have charged the Warlord Korolov more for his shipA collector's item. Taking a seat very close, but slightly off to the side Arissa listens in.

Lanil shrugs at Johanna, "I cannot speak for the Empire's motives for being here, as I am no longer as directly involved as I used to be. Suffice to say I felt that it was time for me to leave and find my own meaning in this galaxy." Glancing at Dareus, he smirks, "However unlike some I chose the smart way out...retirement." Turning back to Johanna, he nods, "Yes, Danik did handle things a bit...rashly...in the end. No organization is perfect."

Raising an eyebrow, he almost looks disappointed towards the Jedi, but still keeps his tone slightly measured, for good reason...he likes his neck. "Oh come on Johanna...that's disappointing. You of all people are at least smart enough to see past what the planet holds, and leave it to symbolism." A flicker through his mind makes him quite glad he remembers certain aspects of her brother, and many meetings and advice. "Would you prefer Mantell next...maybe Kashyyyk? Your brother is far from insane, I've seen that doorway myself; not very enjoyable, but you probably remember that with me as well." Something inside him brings along a little voice to back off, fortunately, this time Dareus listens to it, past lessons well learned, "Kreldin was a fool; just like that errand to Ord Trasi we tagged along with. The pathetic excuse for a Sith couldn't even finish that simple task and we had to be rescued by your brother...the only thing about him that was good was his piloting, and even that...Vichten was better." It's easy to hear the distaste in Dareus' words that are coming from his mouth, and he immediately kills it, along with the memories of Kreldin with a quick finishing of the glass of whiskey and ordering another. He offers Lanil a quick smile, that's actually would look to be sincere, "The smartest, out of everyone, actually; but I ended up with my own path." As the whiskey arrives he takes another sip, quickly trying to save some face before his less than favourite Jedi would snap his neck, "And for the record, I told you what he did to get you there was wrong; even I looked down at that arrogant ass for that." While they were on opposite sides, he'd learned from her brother that every fight has it's place, and now was not one that Dareus saw as smart.

"Vichten? As in... Axel Vichten?" This time the Jedi doesn't even pretend to try and hold back the roar of laughter that now booms through the immediate vicinity, "Oh, that's RICH. Axel Vichten can just be thankful he hasn't hyped himself into a stray asteroid yet, spice-addled nerfbrain that he is. I knew him years ago -- he was a sorry excuse for a pilot then, and I'll wager the better half of my fortune that he's still one now. PLEASE don't tell me that he's part of your little coterie?" A beat passes before she answers her own question, "No wait, I see that he is. Oh Maker what HAS the galaxy come to!" Her palm slaps loudly on the bar; the pilot is savage when amused by what she percieves to be overt weakness on the part of her adversary. "I agree," she nods to Lanil, "No organization is perfect, and yes, Kreldin was rash. It was quite uncharacteristic of him, too. I knew him to be a meticulous tactician in all other avenues of life -- oh, don't look so surprised, I am not insensible to his better points. We of the Republic are not as vapid as you might suspect us to be."

Lanil chuckles at the exchange between Johanna and Dareus, "Yes but it took Axel some severe intoxication and the dismissal of Petra Doom to pull off that stunt he did. I'd still like to see him fly like we used to have to, in the old Mark I's...no shields, nothing. Just you, the stick, and your skills seperating you from the vaccuum of space. That is piloting, and Axel can just shove off."

Something had drawn him back to the Smuggler's Moon. He could sense her presence. Was it arrogance or a death wish that kept him from fleeing, either didn't really matter in the fact that he was here. He pulls the heavy black cloak around him the cowl of the cloak casting his face in shadows. The Sith makes his way towards the bar. A black gloved fist placing a credit chip on the bar, "Give me whatever rot gut passes for Corellian Whiskey in this establishment." The bartender almost looks offended, but the credits were good, who cared what the customers attitude was like. He dumps several ice cubes in a thick plastic glass, before pouring it with the dusky brown liquid. Once he has his drink, he turns around, taking in the clientelle of this underworld establishment.

The striped haired woman can't help but roll her eyes, as the conversation turns in more into male chest thumping that the level of information that would earn her credits or lead her further on her quest. As Arissa draws in a deep breath and them mutters, "Boys and there egos" Good thing for her, her back it to the bar and doesn't catch the newest patron to enter the bar, otherwise she might have found another place to be. A recent mission had lead her to some information. It was that very bit of data she was trying to drink away. It had her spooked, and she was afraid he was one the with all the answers. Still, the Empire's men and the Jedi were proving snippets of conversation that if she put in context could be important.

A simple smile crosses the Captains' face, she's always amused him to no end, overconfidence, cockiness...she was a Damion alright, and so much on the wrong side of it all; but he leaves that alone while he quietly takes another sip from his whiskey, "Well, he'll never quit spice, as long as there's breath in his body, hell, he probably sneezes it when he's got a cold. His ships aren't even in the system anymore, as far as I know. It's none of my concern, I have far more important things to care about than his stoned escapades." Dareus pulls a new barstool over to his spot, stepping to the side slightly, avoiding the nice mess that tends to follow Johanna, before he takes a seat, just watching the exchange between her and Lanil for the moment.

"Oh so you're not bestest buddies with him? I'm disappointed, Mister Dareus. For a moment I thought you might actually be able to entertain me with fine tales of how you and your friend Vichten cavort about the galaxy, proving even more insipid than my brother. Or more inspid than..." Her words trail off, and that savage feeling stirs within her again as the familiar dark imprint of Korolov's presence spills through the casino. "... than a few others I can think of." She is not above being petty, she'll needle him through the Force. *Got another lightsaber for me to turn to slag, or you just here for the atmosphere?* Ah, time for another smoke... and contemplation of how to shove the whole lot of Imperials, ex or otherwise, out the airlock of some ship.

Lanil arches an eyebrow at Johanna's change of tone. Something has her spooked or whatnot, but he can't quite place it. There is perhaps a slight chill to the room, and Lanil glances around, noticing the new arrival at the bar, the man in the black robe. Lord Korolov. Turning back as if to hide his interest and slight discomfort, he sighs to himself. A regular reunion this night has turned out to be.

Korolov takes a sip of his whiskey, letting the taste linger for a moment before swallowing it back. He can feel the burn as it travels down his throat. A smile crosses his lips as he can see the images the Jedi sends into his mind, He rests a palm on the bar before replying with image flashes of his own, *How is the head, Johanna?* He flicks his eyes to her and the exile, * Cavorting with your Brother's puppets now?* He lets out a laugh that is aubible, before taking another sip of his whiskey.

He cracks a vertibrae in his neck for a moment, taking a sip from the whiskey again, "I have better things to do with my time, that's all that it would simply boil down to. Besides, Nar Shaddaa's much better without the stench of overgrown slug permeating every nook and cranny of this filthy little sesspool." Dareus catches Lanil's gaze, following it for a moment, thinking that voice sounded quite familiar, although everying over the last little while has lost it's imposing lustre and frightening visage- but only to a point. He just raises a quick eyebrow before he finishes the glass of whiskey to help dull the pain that's again creeping up behind his eyes, rubbing them with a false look of exhaustion. Slipping the bartender enough credits to cover his tab, he orders another; turning back to Lanil, "You've gone quiet all of a sudden...Horansi got your tongue?"

Violet eyes track were the boastful man's gaze shifts, Arissa's own falling on the Imperial Warlord. The very man was the maker of her doom, or salvation. It was a tight line she had walked since the blood of her team and her own had mixed in the rain soaked fields of betrayal. Korolov had offered Captain Kiiko a hand, even a window into the dark files and lies that had hampered her search for vengeance. Sucking down the remains of her drink, she almost leaves her seat, but not yet. Instead she takes a hand and smoothes down her hair, the strand of beads clicking against each other.

"I'm just fine, thanks," the pilot replies aloud to the cloaked figure, a nasty grin pulling across her lips, "Too bad we can't say the same for your toys. What a disappointment, eh?" As for the comment about hanging out with her brother's lackeys, she shrugs. *Best to know the company one's enemies keep, wouldn't you agree?* Then, to Dareus and Lanil, "I seem to remember our last meeting in the Smuggler's Dig on Corellia turned into a drunken night of name-calling and people passing out all over the place. I am not in the mood for violence or a fight. Honestly, Mister Dareus, if you wish to follow my brother to his ruin, then I will simply sit back and enjoy the show. And you... Jast, is it?... well, if you are no longer in the employ of the Empire, then it might suit your purpose to sit back and enjoy the show as well. Or join them... what do I care, it's doomed to failure anyway." She doesn't let down her guard where Korolov is concerned, though. Who knows if he might decide to take hostages again.

Lanil shrugs, "The Empire I know now only in my own mind died with the rise of Emperor Vadim. I still carry my Imperial citizenship as a reminder of what I used to be. I did not leave the Empire, the Empire left me."

Dareus was about to react to Johanna but quickly gets distracted by Lanil and his assessment of the Empire; before he steps back from his thoughts for a moment, and just offers a half assed smile towards him, "All things change...those that don't adapt, aren't needed anymore, and are just as good to get rid of." Nature does it, makes sense that everything in life does. He turns his attention back to Johanna, stopping himself quickly from laughing about her memories of people passing out, but he flashes Korolov a quick look; his own disease may be progressing but his memory was still good. The Captain just crosses his arms and leans against the bar, debating whether or not to correct her.

The Sith laughs at that, "What would you have ever known about the Empire Jast. Did Danik delude you with promises of greatness that you were too weak minded to ever achieve on your own. You failed in the navy, You failed in the ISB, the only thing you have ever had sucess at, is failing." Turning around Korolov's lips curl into a grin, "Though perhaps you are right, Osbourne was such a good Emperor, that he is forever frozen in carbonite. When push came to shove, his forces folded. My Lord Vadim is the greatest thing to happen to the Empire, can you not see the glory he has brought to it? Yet the Empire left you? The only thing the Empire left were cowards and the weak. Whichever category you see yourself in, so be it. "

"Your lord Vadim is a pompous ass and a waste of sentient life," Johanna snipes, not caring for Imperial infighting so much as she does for the chance to gauge just how loyal Korolov is to the new dark Emperor, "Make no mistake about it, you will be incinerated just as I am sure Kreldin was, and as my brother will be one day." Suddenly her mood is decidedly sour. Vadim's name has the power to awaken deep-seated feelings of loathing within her; she watches his servant with an eye towards violence. What Vadim had done to her was horrific and the Jedi will not suffer his lieutenants to live if they are indeed loyal to his cause.

Lanil downs the last of his drink before turning to face the Sith. Offering him a respectful nod, he speaks, "M'lord Korolov, you and I are old enough to remember the days of the Old Republic, the endless chain of arguing and debating. The Empire brought stability, order, and direction. Now with the latest...I guess progressive reforms would be correct...it is reverting. Aliens granted more rights, what next?" He sighs, "However, I am not one to totally give up my ties completly. I have an open mind...fill it the way it should be filled, m'lord, and we can both put this thing to bed."

The conversation was getting interesting, although Dareus half looks at Jast out of the corner of his eyes, a small curl along the ends of his lips while he contemplates a simple and quick twist until he felt the pop through the meat of his neck. He was complicating things here, and he didn't have the time or need for it; sliding the whiskey glass back to the bartender, "Water." he quickly states before resuming his leaning against the edge, occasionally glancing to Korolov, and back to the Jedi. Dareus had to weigh and measure every word and double-think it's possible meanings before he said anything; being in one hell of a dangerous spot. "I doubt your brother will be ashes anytime soon; he lacks the stupidity that his predecessors had. His majesty has secured power with undoubtedly everything thought of before hand..." It's almost with a sick reverence, and even the Captain can't believe what he hears flowing from his mouth; but that reverence did spare his life at the last moment.

The Jedi was goading him. Flashing her a wicked smile, "He so adores you too, Johanna. He was upset that you don't call or show up for family holidays anymore." His wrath is bathed in whiskey as he empties the plastic tumbler of Corellian rot gut. "Jast, The Empire is bringing stability to the Galaxy, do you honestly think Kreldin could do that? As a naval tactician, he was brilliant, but had not the capacity for long range strategy. It is why he is now nothing but a fading memory in this Galaxy. It is the way of things now, Vadim brings glory to those who follow him and destruction to those that oppose him."

The Pirates Captain continues to fly under the radar, unwilling to enter the fray between the two powers. Standing up she turns her back towards the Jedi, and in the same deft move she shifts away from Korolov's line of sight. But all the positioning and gesturing is enough, with a hard voice leveled with confidence, "My lord, a gril can't go anywhere to have a drink any more" taking one hand and thumping her chest "My dad can beat up your dad, or My dad could have beat up your dad if he wasn't frozen or deadI mean really" The shake of Arissa's head sending her hair about in a swirl of color. "Boys and their toysmy gun is biggerthis is all a game to you, and we are just pawns? Not this woman" It was a rare outburst, and almost random, but the stress and booze had an effect.

"Of course he adores me. Who else would endeavor to slice you from top to bottom? Sadly, I don't return the sentiment as far as Vadim is concerned. When his reign is brough to a crashing halt, he and those who attended him will pay dearly for what they're wrought upon the galaxy." There isn't any laughter in her eyes anymore, and she hasn't had enough to drink to just shrug it off. Maybe she should have gotten trashed beforehand. It usually makes things easier. "I would be more careful if I were you, Lord Korolov. As I recall from our last meeting, provoking me isn't so wise."

Nar Shaddaa seems to be a very exciting and popular place. The Force had a way of telling others who could touch it much about an environment, but it also helped to be in control of the moon with spies everywhere reporting information to the ships above. It was only a short amount of time for Darth Malign to show his face and enter the House of Sabacc, Ewan Dain's old casino.

A wiff of smoke trails in as the doors open for the middle aged Corellian who had last stepped in here and fought a gang of roughneck thugs threatening Ewan and his friends. Now, he was here to see what the commotion was, not necessarily that anything had been erupting, but the sent in the air suggested tension. What better place for a Sith to help send the moment spiraling out of control? Silently, he strides toward the bar to order a drink, "Corellian Whiskey, no ice."

Lanil furrows his brow, lost in thought. He'd always been one for the long term picture, and the more political aspects of the Empire. "I could be interested in a chance to learn what Emperor Vadim is really about. Perhaps I have been brainwashed. Danik did have an air for speeches."

He'd been watching quite intently, and with genuine interest, offering a polite nod towards the woman who addresses Korolov, Dareus taking a quick sip from his drink nearly spits it out; although the maneover remains somewhat silent. The blue-grey eyes from the Captian glance over to Korolov while a half smirk crosses his face, "He's not the only one who's seen that side Johanna." He just mentions it in passing; although to Dareus, it seems like she's ignoring the part that's become a memory of her seared into his mind, her lightsaber at his throat and the feeling of it being crushed; it plays for nearly a full half minute before he pushes it away. Turning to Lanil ahead of time, he raises an eyebrow, he chuckles slightly, "Kreldin had a flare for many things, including wasting many resources on idiotic persuits." While he hears a familiar voice with the whiskey, he turns quickly to look towards Malign, his eyes shifting to strain back towards the group he's with for the moment; settling on bowing his head towards him for the moment; now, it seems, he was way out of his league.

Just another patron to the casino, that's all Axel was tonight. He hadn't planned on running into anyone, it had just been a long day and he had little more to do while waiting for some of his little scouts to bring in the reports he had requested. With time to kill and money in his pocket, he decided to hit the casino, maybe make or lose a fortune. Ax moves through the crowd at the entrance, a lit cigarette in his hand and makes his way towards the bar. First things first, after all. It was time for the man to get his drink on.

Lanil looks around, spotting Lord Malign as well. Nodding to him, he looks back over and grins to Dareus, "Just a few more people and it'll be a regular NR-Imperial Embassy here."

Johanna stares at Dareus as if he's simply gone insane. "I don't know what kind of a sick fantasy life you've got going there, Mister Dareus, but you can keep it to yourself. I'm not into that sort of thing, and certainly not with the likes of you." His salacious memory is declared as wishful thinking; the Jedi's eyes narrow for a moment before she turns her attention back to Korolov, feeling with a pang the presence of her brother newly arrived in the casino. Why is it that these evenings always go south so quickly?

Enough she had enough listened to enough and before she had to see too much she was making her exit. Arissa's comments had registered with no one and she was summarily ignored as more important people discussed topics that she held little care for. Turning away, it takes all her concentration to focus on not staggering out the door. This night would serve as a turning point, the last night of true freedom she would know. The problem was, that she didn't know it yet. Back to her ship, and that strange halocron she had taken from the ruins.

Why did Malign's arrival define an evening as going South? Tyler was at the bar enjoying a drink and a smoke as Axel seems to arrive to do the same. The Corellian simply monitoring the conversation and the debates, "Like two walls telling the other to move." He says quietly chuckling lightly and taking a long draw from his smoke and exhaling slowly. He moves his glass lightly in a circular motion to watch the brown liquid slosh around moving up and down near the sides. Hazel eyes stuck to it as he concentrates feeling out the room and getting a larger taste of the tensions, a lot of names spilling out here and a lot of people who could possibly do something about it. He turns the glass up and finishes the contents and places the empty glass on the bar, tapping the glass as it sits, "Fill it back up." He says politely, "Careful, Captain, don't get too close to my sister, or I will have to hurt you. She is family after all, even though she can take care of herself, I do have a duty as a brother." He declares more loudly smirking as his glass is refilled with another few shots of whiskey.

Great, he comes here for a drink and it looks like a company party. Malign hadn't been hard for Axel to spot right off, and with Joh's speech about Mr. Dareus, it wasn't hard to spot another of the gang. "Corellian Whiskey, full bottle and one glass," Ax says as he tosses a hundred creds worth of high value coins on the counter. "And I prefer top shelf, not the swill you serve the penny slot players." While he waits, Axel turns towards Tyler and gives a polite nod. He shoots a glare to Joh and Dareus as well, but he remains silent for now. It had been a rough day, one that would normally end with a pile of empty metallic cylinders laying around his passed out form. But that was the old Axel, today's Axel had been more than two months sober, at least when it came to spice.

The Imperial Warlord let's Johanna's comments slide, as he picks up another glass of whiskey, before raising it to the Jedi, "No more politics. I am not here to fight." Though it really didn't explain why he was here. Just as the other Damion enters, his smile darkens, taking a sip of his whiskey. He savors what little there is to the cheap beverages taste as his gaze flicks to the rainbow haired woman. He flashes the briefest hint of a grin as she speaks. She had stormed out of their last meeting, perhaps she came to these dark places to think, or perhaps..not think.

All of a sudden, Dareus sets his glass of water back down, "I'll change that to whiskey" Raising an eyebrow, the bartender hands the one back that the Captain gave him, and walks away, shaking his head. After a long sip, he turns back to look at Malign, and nods, "Of course Lord Malign...." Dareus takes another quick sip and tosses some more credits on the counter, looking at the bartender, "One more and my tab" His head was starting to pound, and enough of this, was starting to go the wrong way; something he didn't need just after getting married.

Lanil shrugs, noting that the conversation is drifting more to interpersonal feuds. Resigning himself, he orders another Lum.

Walking back into the casino Cade smiles as he looks about. It was a busy night, the best kind of night. Adjusting the holster hidden beneath his bantha-leather jacket scans the room from behind his blonde hair which is currently grown out to come down to partially cover his blue eyes. Smiling as he sees the collection of 'customers' his smile broadens. When he sees his friend Lanil also there he starts over towards him, pushing his way through the myriad of crowds within the casino. Dodging players at sabaac tables, drunks falling over themselves as they move from table to table, and angry aliens who act as if they have just lost their life's savings.

Lanil arches an eyebrow at Cade, "That must have been some food you ate earlier. Seems you missed a regular clash of ideals and such." He gulps a swig of liquor from his new glass, "And I've rethought my life in the past few minutes. Cade...Danik fooled us. He couldn't see past his own big nose, and we were just as blind to follow him. The Empire isn't about people, it's about an idea. Danik tried to make HIMSELF the idea. Even the Emperor wouldn't do that. The Emperor EMBODIES the idea of the Empire, he doesn't BECOME it."

Axel takes the glass and bottle from the bartender once it arrives. He then uses his teeth to pull the cork and spits it out onto the floor, nearly hitting a large alien that walks by. He then pours a glass full then tilts the bottle back, draining a quarter of it before pulling it back down. God how he missed the spice on days like this. He stomps his foot on the floor and makes an aweful looking facial gesture before setting the bottle back down on the bar. He lights up a fresh cigarette while the large slug of whiskey kicks in. "I thought I said the good stuff," he says in the direction of the bartender, who was too busy helping another patron to really pay attention. Once again he eyes a few of the patrons at the bar, one in particular being Korolov. Axel hadn't had many dealings with the inquisitor, but he knew enough about the man. Still though, he remains quiet. After all, it had already been a bad day, why make it worse? Right?

Half rubbing a temple and half staring into his glass of whiskey, Dareus has basically stepped back from the conversation to avoid causing any problems for himself. He yawns slightly before taking another sip of his whiskey and nodding towards Axel before turning to glance over the tables and other people who seem to drunk to really do anything; but attempt to gamble nonetheless. Offering a half smile towards Lanil, "Partially my fault, I should have tossed him into a chasm when I had the chance; would have solved a lot of problems; except I would have definitely been executed then...oh well, there always is the greater good." He seems to toast that to himself before he finishes his glass of whiskey, tapping it on the bar for his total to arrive.

If there was one person in the room that could take credit for Danik's downfall, it would be Axel, and he knew it. Not really caring, but eavesdropping none the less he comments towards Dareus and Lanil. "Had you done that, you'd be dead and I wouldn't have Danik's ships. Though, I was just satisfied with being responsible for his death. He'd been my nemesis for far too long. It had grown stale." Well, that wasn't completely true. Ax did enjoy Danik's death, but it wasn't enough for him. He wanted to be there when it happened. He wanted a lot more than what the Empire let him slide with. In his own mind, Axel single-handedly saved the Empire and the Emperor and all he got was a couple of lousy ships for it. Such was the life, he thought before draining his glass and pouring another. He then turns to shoot a glance towards Tyler and Korolov both. "Of course, none of the damn Imperials kept up their part of the bargain. He was SUPPOSED to be put on the run, after losing everything. You stripped the glory from me. I was supposed to be the one to terminate the bastard, to chase him across the galaxy and finish him off my damned self." A bad mood, combined with half a bottle of whiskey in a short period of time... moments like this had spawned some of Axel's craziest actions in his lucky career and had earned him more than one bounty.

Stepping up to the bar, Cade motions to the bartender and orders a Corellian brandy before turning to Lanil. Taking in all that was said he is quiet for a few moments before smiling. Nodding his head, "Danik was a fool. He believed he could shape the future of the Empire single handedly. Even the Emperor needs his loyal followers to maintain his rule. The fight for the greater good is always more important that the live of one single individual. To be truly devoted to creating a new and better reality one must be willing to sacrifice one's own life to fullfill that ideal. Danik fooled others, like my brother, who were devoted to the greater good into their demise. The Empire stands for order and justice in a hostile galaxy, it is an island of tranquility amidst a sea of chaos." Looking to the bar Cade picks up his brandy and takes a few sips before turning back, "To fight for an ideal is to to fight to make a better world, not for yourself, no because you have to know that there may come a moment when you will be asked to give your life for what you believe in, but a better world for those who come after you." Looking to Axel now he holds up his glass, "To the man that helped rid the galaxy of Danik."

"Axel Vichten. I see you've lost none of your big mouth and penchant for fast talking." Having wandered off for a few minutes to drink in peace -- or at least as much peace as can be expected here -- Johanna returns, a good deal more intoxicated but decidedly less irate. Hell, she can even tolerate Korolov's presence now. "I also see that you and Mister Dareus have taken up with my brother. I consider this both unfortunate and amusing. Unfortunate for you, since you'll end up vaped or shot in the face, or Maker only knows what when justice catches up with you. Amusing for me because I enjoy watching your sort fall flat on their arses." A chortle escapes her and she scoots herself closer to Tyler, squinting at him for a moment as she tries to focus on his face. "The company you keep, dearest brother... oh it's positively shocking."

Malign sighs as the conversation seems to drift into a Danik bashing ceremony, the past was the past when it came for the now very dead traitor, "What use is it to even speak of Danik Kreldin? He has gone the way of the other great losers in the galaxy, he has died." He shrugs leaning back against the bar, "His body isn't even identifiable, and he was cast away much like the garbage he was, no doubt in a trash compactor."

As Johanna speaks on Axel he lets it happen, no need to step into any affairs she had with the smuggler. As it turns to him he smiles, "I keep many kinds of company, dear sister, even yours." He shrugs, "I speak to those who listen and those who follow, follow. I have a message of galactic unity and peace. Those are messages living beings love to hear, and I plan to make their dreams come true. Peace through order." He turns back to his whiskey having a taste for it and enjoying the stock here in the casino.

Korolov's attention is turned towards the spice head, "No deal was made with my office, when the information was turned over, we acted as we would with any traitor, Danik was allowed to flee last time he betrayed the Empire. " The cloaked man's gaze flickers towards Malign, "However, someone pardoned him for that crime and it was my duty to clean up the mess. I was not going to let him live this time." Shrugging, the warlord finishes his whiskey, " Danik lived in a world that revolved around entirely of Danik, he wished to create a cult of Palpatine. The irony of that is that my Lord Palpatine would have used every bit of the poor fool then discarded him when finished." He reaches to pick up a bottle and refill his glass. "The Palpatine I knew was a great man, who was brought down by his own arrogance. He failed the Empire, I did not realize it till I saw what happened in my lord Valak's decline. The filth that rose from the woodwork to try and seize power, the idiot Kreldin was no better than Osbourne, worse actually for Osbourne yet lives...as a decoration. Danik is not even Digona feces."

The bartender arrives, whispering a total to Dareus, allowing him to drop the credits on top of the bar, looking back towards Cade and Lanil with a smile and half nod before he stands up and faces Axel, "Everyone dies sometime; it's just a question of when and how good you look when it happens." He ignores Johanna's half insult for now, his patience quickly growing thin; but common sense, at least, still wins- out of simple fear though. Dareus double blinks while his eyes go momentarily blurry; although not for the same reasons that the jolly Jedi's do, tapping the fingers, he takes a glass of water, quickly having a long sip. He just offers a polite and respectful nod towards Tyler, definitely not pushing any luck; taking a quick sip once again while his eyes drift over the sabacc tables.

Lanil looks up and over to Korolov when he hears mention of Palpatine, "Agreed, mi'lord. Nobody is indispensible, but they must be utilized to their fullest extent as long as possible...but no longer. Palpatine gave us the Empire, that is why I hold him with such respect as I do. I respect not the man in the end, but the man in the beginning, and what he brought us."

"Shut up," Axel tells Cade. "Danik wasn't out to shape the future of the Empire any more than I am. He was a power hungry and greedy son of a bantha. Those, just like your brother, who got lured into his web of lies were fools." Axel tilts his glass up and drains it. When Joh speaks, however, Axel turns to face her, with an equal scowl. "Last time you said a word to me was when you were just as hopped up on spice as I was. I'm sure you remember your days in the Olumi Osahn, serving as concubine to Ernie." Axel then sends his attention to the Inquisitor. At the mention of Palpatine and Valak, Axel just smiles. In some form or other the smuggler and mercenary had worked for both of them, or at least the more recent incarnation of Palpatine. "Empires fall. Palpatine's, Valak's, Osbourne's, Malus's, maybe one day, even Vadim's. You know what survives? It's not the stupid rebellion or republic or whatever you wish to call it. It's us fringers. We're the eyes and the ears of the galaxy, we're the real movers and shakers. Remember the Death Star? It was fringers who sold the info to the Rebels. We work for whoever gives us the best deal and frankly, you can take the Empire as we know it and shove it up your ass. I'm working to build a better Empire." Yeah, Axel was full of himself, but that was no surprise to anyone. He was also drunk and irritable. He'd been drinking prior to his arrival, and continued even heavier when he arrived.

Downing some more of his glass Cade just simply quirks an eyebrow at Axel. Biting his tongue he refrains from letting the statements antagonize him as of who Axel is. He'd never seen the other man drunk, but apparently it was not a pretty sight. Slamming his glass down on the bar as he lets the liquor run its course through his system for a bit before smiling to Axel, "As you say. I never said he was. I simply said that is what he convinced some others to believe. Everyone says they are out to make a better government. It is up to the course of history to say whether what is created is better or worse than the one that proceeded it. History is written by the victors, so whatever this 'new empire' you are creating it had better be victorious."

Ok, not even the drunk factor can keep Johanna's rapidly rising temper in check. She's been called a lot of things in her life -- most of them not so nice, and most of them infuriating, but none quite so foul or baseless as a concubine to Pallando. She catches her breath mid-sentence, stops what she'd been saying to her brother, and turns to face the addled spice-head. "You will keep a civil tongue in your head, you little worm, or I shall part it from your mouth with one swipe of the blade. Or perhaps..." the Jedi rises, a glass beside her shattering from the force of her growing wrath, "Perhaps I shall simply part your head from your neck... minion of my brother or not." The brilliant white of her weapon ignites, she stands poised to deal a killing stroke. "You call yourself a fringer but you are clearly too stupid to survive very long here on Nar Shaddaa."

Dareus listens quietly to Axel, raising an eyebrow while he turns to look at him; although slightly before Johanna's reaction, he gets a shiver that runs through his body; something he'd rarely felt, but then again, his syndrome had been getting worse lately, according to the medical droids; but the pain surges in the back of his head quickly as well; causing him to double blink before quickly finishing his water and ordering another while he stares at them quietly. While Axel was someone who he'd consider a friend, he was in a higher purpose, or so he'd been told, Dareus almost watching with perverse curiousity at what will happen; but not moving in the least to interject...after all, he did bring it on himself. The Captains eyes shift to Lord Malign for a moment and back to Axel while the lightsaber is ignited, causing him to almost laugh, albeit quietly and inside; while a finger strokes across his chin.

It was the anniversary of his wife's death, a time usually spent alone and dosed up on enough glitterstim to overdose a herd of dewbacks. Instead of the usual pity party, Ax had decided to just get trashed, spend a few thousand credits at the casino and be done with it. Of course, things didn't work out that way. He didn't care about death, often welcomed it at times, especially this time of the year. His cold blue eyes just look straight at the lightsaber wielding woman, whom had his full and utmost attention. "On behalf of your brother, I offer an apology." There was definitely no sign of apology in the man's voice, only sarcasm. "You want to strike me down out of anger, do it. Give into it, I don't care, either do it or put the damn laser sword away." At that moment, he just locks eyes with the woman. Nothing had gone the way he had planned. He was a fringer, one who was drunk and alone. He had plans for greatness, had even thought he had put the death of his wife behind him and finally moved on with his life, but all it took was one look at the picture in his cabin to almost force him to read the last letter she was to write him before her passing.

"Vermin living off the dropped scraps of greatness. That is all you are Vichten and all you ever will be. Savor it, enjoy it, toss it away on more of whatever has rotted your brain. I don't care." The flash of the sabers causes the Sith Warlord's eyes to glow if only for a moment, " Next time, clean up your own messes, Damion. Don't make threats you aren't prepared to follow through with, you serve our master well, as do I and it is not your position to determine when my service begins or ends. You also remember what he said about fighting in public. Just don't expect me to take the rap for any of your misdoings. Kreldin is entirely on you. I would have soon cut his head off then as tolerate him and I cleaned up your mess when he did as he was expected to do." Shrugging his shoulders the Sith pours two glasses of whiskey, offering one to Damion, "Now drink, you serve your purpose and I serve mine."

Johanna's posture remains unchanged for what seems like a long while to her but is probably only moments to the outside world. She stares Vichten down and refuses to budge, watching him over the end of her weapon and gauging the best angle required to decapitate him. A stir of a memory whispers within some far corner of her mind but she shrugs it off, unwilling to lose focus now. "If I strike you down, it will not be out of anger, but a sense of duty to the galaxy as far as ridding it of nuisances goes. I did tell Mister Dareus that it was my job to eradicate those. You, who wish to ride to glory in my brother's wake -- you know nothing of the life he leads or what it took to get there. All you know is your spice and your drunken stupors, and your bloated ego. I warn you, worm. Do not ever venture to goad me into battle, either here or in space. I will atomize you before you can even throw your engines to full, and wipe you from existence in this horrible little galaxy. We shall see how well you manage to boast when your remains are scattered across a star system." With a snarl she deactivates her blade and clips it back to her belt.

Malign's hand still moves to the hilt of his weapon as Korolov speaks, "I am not one that is so hesitant to kill those who oppose me." He hisses, "Why clean my messes up when you, like Danik, can be a mere tool to be used to do that for me?" he shrugs, "I rebuilt worlds and expanded the Empire for the Emperor, you sit with weapons idle and let those around you ponder Rebellion. Take your fight back to the enemy warlord and make your title mean something!" he removes his hand from his weapon and turns back to Johanna and Axel and chuckles lightly.

He steps up behind Johanna and whispers into her ear, "Aggression smells good on you. I love how Jedi justify murder." He chuckles lightly and steps around her, "Yes Axel you apologized, but it isn't good enough for me or her. She could very well kill her, and without emotion, like a true monster. She would wipe you out and feel nothing. That is what the Jedi have taught her, to hide her emotions and to forget pain and regret." He frowns for a moment but there was a twinkle and a smile gradually forms on his lips, "In time, she will feel again. She will see herself and her passions and will understand how to be human." He chuckles lightly, "But for now, drink. For once, Korolov is right, let's all drink and forget about the galaxy. No matter how small and pitiful it is. Let's drink to Cochran, and the fallen for all sides. Ideas, those are beautiful, and we fight for them, but I am sure order and peace can be found among them in time." He raises his glass of whiskey, "Cheers."

Patience was definitely wearing thin...he pours the ice water directly down his throat concentrating on the feelings of it chilling him from the inside although he also is half ready to look Korolov straight in the eye to wonder just who the hell he thinks he is; he wasn't at home, nor in the middle of his fleet, this was Malign's domain, and one Dareus was charged with defending. His own anger fights to turn into violence; but once again his own sense wins out; there's no one here he could win a fight against, aside from possibly Axel and maybe a few other drunk patrons, that was where the line was drawn. His glass gets back to the bar, albeit too hard, cracking it straight up the rim as he takes several deep breaths, half looking at the still pair, before giving Korolov at best, a partial look; whether there's any respect in it, or not; can only be up to interpretation, though the slight sense of calm from everyone backing down; allows Dareus to do the same. He runs his hand through his hair while he stares at himself through the bar's dirty and marred glass, thinking back to Cochran, and peace; that it brough to to be there. The bartender slides him a whiskey, which is half waved in the air with the toast, remaining slightly distracted he just mutters out "The fallen who give us strength, through lessons, and ideas...." The amber liquid quickly disappears, while the glass is set far more gently on top of the bar.

"Anytime you wish for my presence in space," He reaches into his vest pocket and pulls out a small card with a holoterm number on it. "Simply leave a message." He then tosses it on the floor at Joh's feet. He then shoots a glare to Korolov and just smiles. "You who has ridden the coattails of two emperors, never rising above your station, happy to feed on the scraps they throw you themselves." Tonight was the deciding factor for the pilot. Tonight, just as it was before he began working with Tyler, he was to consider every side of the fight for the galaxy to be an enemy. He tilts his glass up, bringing it to his lips and says, "To warlords and warriors, to those who have spilled the blood of their enemies and shed their own blood in return. To the Jedi and the Sith, whom hold the galaxy in their hands and are more alike than they care to imagine. To the Republic and the Empire, may they both crumble to dust." With that, he empties his glass once more. Yeah, this was the time of year he was the most alone and the most self-destructive.

Signaling for another glass of liquor he waits for the bartender to drop it to him then holds it up to Tyler, Lanil, Dareus, and then finally to Axel as he finishes his toast. Cade is not one for these kinds of words, "I wish I could say something classy and inspirational, but that just isn't my style. To the future, wherever it may take us all." Throwing his head back he downs the glass and then, unlike Dareus, slams it onto the counter and looks again to each of those present.

"The Military will move again when the time is right, Damion. But now is not the time nor the place to discuss these things." The Sith shrugs and drinks a sip of his whiskey, he ignores the rest of what the Sith has to say, it is all hot air for all he is concerned. He pours another glass for the Jedi, it is probably all that will keep the bar from turning into a charnal house. "Johanna, drink. He is not worth it, I won't explain why, but just trust me that it is." Axel's comments draw his anger, " You just don't know when to shut up do you, Vichten. You should leave before your mouth gets your killed because unlike the Jedi, I have no reason not to flay you like a fish right here."

"I suppose you are right," the Jedi mutters, accepting the drink from Korolov and wondering exactly how it is they manage to agree on some points and yet be ready to gut one another at a moment's notice, "He's not worth it." She knocks the liquor back and seats herself, not wanting to have to explain all of this to Luke... again. Going into enemy territory never ends very well for her. A smirk twists her mouth at the mention of Axel being sliced up. "Lord Korolov isn't one to exaggerate, Mister Vichten. For all his faults, he's quite handy with a blade... be it a lightsaber or a vibroblade, he'll have you skewered and cooking on the grill."

Malign smiles, "Now, now Axel, no need to make pointed comments that should be saved for better council." The Sith places a hand on the smuggler's shoulder before turning toward Korolov his hazel eyes are sharp and look hard at him, "My beloved sister my threaten those who would dare serve me, and she could gladly take their life if she can justify it beyond some simple ideology of preemptive strikes to save the galaxy from some remotely perceived attack. However, you have no grounds to come near any of those who follow me. I will cut you into ten thousand pieces, Korolov, and that is a declaration of fact, not a mere threat. Move anywhere near my men and you will as soon fall." Malign shrugs and grabs the whiskey and sighs, "Drink, enough of this, I am tired of your antics, Axel Vichten, pray to your gods I do not lose my patience or I will turn you inside out with a flick of my will."

"Blades, be they energy or durasteel are the least of my concerns," Axel says. "He's a sorcerer just like you and your brother are. I know that in a bout of ground fighting I would stand little chance with the tricks that one can pull when wielding the power of the force." Axel had seen enough displays of power from Tyler, Luke, Valak, and Cort, to teach him that tangling in the affairs of Jedi or Sith was a dangerous matter, though it was obvious that deeply he didn't care. "I know my strengths and weaknesses well enough. Just let it be known, the power of the force isn't always eternal. It comes and it goes, and while I don't pretend to understand it fully, I have seen it's effect upon those it abandons." He really had less knowledge than he even claimed, but he remembers Danik's loss of the force, that void he spoke of where it once filled him and made him stronger. He does however seem to heed Tyler's warning, listening quietly when the Sith lord speaks. "I guess I've worn out my welcome here. Maybe I should go. I think I spotted an old Corellian gunship that could use some attention." With that, the smuggler turns, taking what remained of his bottle with him, and begins a deliberately slow walk away from the bar.

He'd been listening to this banter for quite some time; casually staring between his drink and occasionally offering a glance to the others; but Dareus decides to step in; after all...he was an Ambassador once, and this wasn't the place or time for bloodshed, or egos to flare. "Last I checked...this was Nar Shaddaa; not Nal Hutta or Tattooine." He speaks quietly at first, taking the time to observe what unusual reflections the mirrored bar offers, "This isn't the time or place to tear each other to pieces." He turns, taking a seat on the barstool, glancing back and forth between everyone, even Malign, "He's drunk." Obviously Dareus is referring to Axel, "You want to kill him, wait until he's sober and fight like you should, not gutting a man who wouldn't be able to decide which one of you to hit." While he's speaking of his own- only friend, he gets a rather half amused smirk, "At least make it sporting." Dareus doesn't know if he's right, or even made sense to them, but he also couldn't care less, he tosses some of the winnings from his pocket towards the bartender, "Enjoy getting sauced on my tab." They bounce loudly, the bartender half going wide eyed with the amount of money, while the Captain steps over to a rack, taking a long coat from it, before turning to look at Axel, "There's better times to fight this battle...now is not one of them. Let it go..." It's not a warning from Dareus; but a simple statement, chances are, it'll be ignored, since Axel, in the past, needed to be passed out and flown back to Caspar by Dareus, so he wouldn't grenade the COMPForce guards at the Kreldin Estate.