RPlog:Face to Face 2

Sitting back he listens to the conversations around him and in the bar, just taking things in for the time being. He watches Keline take on a new order, and just sips on his ale for now. Keline glances at Krieg again, shrugging slightly, before she turns back to look at the server droid as her food is delivered and set on the table. She deposists her credits, local credits mind, before tearing her bread in half and dipping it into the stew. She sniffs is cautiously before taking a small bite

"Don't look now..." Raxis says calmly under his breath into his comm. Hidden in the restroom, he unbuttons his blaster's holster. "Table on the way to the head has Krieg in it. Send Gene back to get the transport humming. We've got a few options but I don't know if he's seen us yet or if there are any other troopers with him. I'm guessing yes." Raxis adds, slipping his headset earpiece on to talk hands free and silent.

Rebecca shakes her head slightly. "Dammit Raxis. You just /had/ to pick a spot where Imperial troops like to hang out as well." She sighs a bit. "Well to late, buddy boy. You dragged us here, and I'm not ready to leave yet." She says back not raising her voice at all. "These chicken poppers are quite good. If he spots us, the chances of him recognizing any of us is nil. So just come back to the table and act natural and let the sabaac cards fall where they may. Varn out." After the final word she undoes the ear piece and shuts off the comlink and sips her whiskey and takes another bite of a chicken popper.

Still sitting at the bar table, Krieg says nothing but watches everything.

"Kark..." Raxis says under his breath as he takes a drag off of his thin cigar. Standing up full, he cranes his neck to the side to let it pop, and then opens the door with a small sigh. Proceeding naturally, he pads over to Rebecca's table and takes a seat. Sipping his alcohol again, he keeps Krieg in his peripheral vision. "Sorry about that. So what's new?"

Keline was watching as well, her eyes flicking from person to person but most often settling on Krieg as she eats her way through the stew slowly, occasionally summoning a server droid for a refill, while trying to appear that she's not up to something. She sits back, sliding her hand underneath the table briefly, before sitting back and resting her hands on her stomach as she tilts her head back. "Hadn't had food like for a while..too bad I can't pull this place off the planet and take it with me when I go, huh?" *she turns her head to flash a grin around at the others before leaning forward and taking a pull at her drink.*

Rebecca glances at Raxis as she nibbles on a popper, a slight grin on her face. "Nothing much, had to nearly kill Gene for scaring the crap out of me." She finishes the bite and sips a bit of her whiskey. "Why don't you just put a sign on that says 'I saw an Imperial and I'm NR Military.' Relax Raxis." She says with another slight smirk. She had some experience with not attracting attention to oneself while in a crowded place. "You want him to spot us?"

Grinning Krieg looks to Keline, "Well, I imagine that in time we can have some of it moved, but that might take a bit of doing." Finishing his ale he sets the glass down, still reclined back and letting the things in the room happen around him. He wasn't worried, but he watches some in the room take a good distance from his table. Seems that he might be found out after all. As they continue to talk he gets up from the table. Looking to Keline he says, "Off to get a drink, I'll be right back." Moments later he makes his way to the bar, very near to where Raxis and Rebecca are. Something seemed familiar about the man...

Keline chuckles as she looks back at Krieg, grinning, before she leans forward to resume trying her stew. "You work out the idea and the doing takes care of itself." *she nods in answer as she spoons more stew into her mouth.

"...haven't been the same since Gorton stopped playing smashball. I mean he was a monster, really." Raxis says as Krieg passes, dragging off of his cigar. "He ran miles every game and wasn't bad on the toss." He adds, folding his arms as he relaxes, careful not to glance at Krieg.

Rebecca looks up as she detects movement at the bar not far away from the table and once over's the man then not impressed she slides her eyes away, a completely natural movement as she takes a bite of another popper. "Yeah? I've never been a fan of smashball." She shrugs. "Never interested me, really."

Getting a closer look at the two, Krieg moves up to where Raxis is as there is a waiter there, one that services his table as well. Resting his left hand on Raxis's shoulder and leaning in to the table area where the waiter is just walking up he asks of the waiter, "Corellian ale please, if you could for the table back there. And a round for these folks." His voice is smooth with a Corellian accent, his light blond hair and black shades hiding him from most gazes, either good or bad.

Keline watches Krieg with every apperance of idileness as she finishes off her stew, reaching out for bread, and finding there is none left. She turns to look for a serverdroid, spotting one, before waving to attract it's attention. She places bowl, plate, and spoon on the droid's tray before turning back to the holo menu again. This time it is speaking Sullustese..she sighs and gets to work resetting it again.

Rebecca's elbow knocks off a piece of silverware and she bends to pick it up just as Krieg leans over the table and and while under cover she silently withdraws her blaster from her shoulder holster. As she starts to come back up she bangs her head on the table with a semi-loud *thump* "Ouch." She ducks her head from under the table and places the silverware that she had knocked off on the table and lays her blaster across her lap. She reaches up with her free hand and rubs the spot on her head. She looks over to the newcomer. "I'm sorry, can we help you?" Her voice as a hard edge to it, thinking it utterly to rude to interrupt people having a meal, not bothering anybody.

Looking over his shoulder at Krieg, Raxis shrugs his shoulder a little bit to run the man's hand off. Turning in his seat slightly, he regards the man as Rebecca asks her question to him.

Feeling Raxis shrug him off he pats the man on the back and says to him pleasantly, "Oh, sorry about that." dropping his hand and keeping them casually beside him he looks at the folks at the table, recognizing Gene sitting there. To them all he says trying to get a good look at all their faces, "A round of drinks from me and all I get are looks of scorn? A shame nobody recognizes courtesy anymore." Nodding to the waiter he waits for the drinks to come so he could get his own. Slipping off to the end of the table, farther towards Gene he rests both hands at the surface of the table, making a little small talk with them. "If you don't want the round, I could always have him not bring them..."

Keline at last fixes the holo again before she studies what in the way of sweets are there..hey, even spacers have sweet tooths. She does look bemused at Krieg's speech as she listens to it with half an ear as the talks with the people at Raxis's table before placing her own order.

Rebecca keeps her eyes glued to this man as he moves a bit, not moving then away for the briefest of seconds. "Well, we're not saying no to them. Her eyes recognize something about the man before her but she doesn't show it outwardly though her grip on her blaster tightens just a bit and keeping the muzzle pointed at him. Her body language is relaxed and gives nothing away.

"Very generous of you..." Raxis replies, dragging off of his cigar to blow the smoke in Krieg's direction. A hand at the shoulder and a round of drinks. He's seen Krieg in person, and is a little intrigued by the cloak and dagger. "Of course we'll take the free drinks." He pauses, sipping the last of his Cassandran Coholl as the replacement comes. Looking back to Krieg, he matches eyes with the man knowing well the game was up. Smiling softly, he motions to Krieg. "And what would be the name of our benefactor?"

Moving his hands up to take off his shades he tucks them in under his trenchcoat, slowly as to not cause them alarm. As he gets done putting them away there is no hostile intent in him at all. In fact, he was a complete friend. "As name?" Quircking an eyebrow he looks to Raxis, "Well, I go by Ian. And yours would be?" He looks to the man and his companion and asks, "I'm sorry, did I interrupt you folks from anything?" As the waiter gets there he waits for a moment before getting his drink, looking to get back to Keline shortly unless she had the urge to come over to where he was.

Rebecca watches as 'Ian' removes his shades and looks into his eyes. She notes the look that people get from combat and having to kill people in his eyes and her grip tightens a bit on the grip of the blaster as her body starts to shift into combat mode. Her training at the CorSec Academy taught her enough about what one's body goes through and how to conceal the subtle changes. She can sense the man is serious trouble and would rather have him gone from the table than anything else.

"No, you interrupted a changed conversation anyway." Raxis replies with a steely glint on the Marshall. "Well...we know your name isn't Ian and I can assume safely at this point that your escapade to buy us drinks put you in close proximity." Raxis drags off of the cigar again. "So placing all of that together I suppose I could ask you what you'd like to talk about, Marshal."

Chuckling Krieg looks to him. "Ahh, you know my work name. Though I don't prefer to use that when I'm out and about having some fun. But if you must, I suppose you can call me that too." Muttering on the end of that as he reaches for his drink he adds, "so formal..." As he picks up his drink he looks to them all, "I see that I'm not invited. I understand, enjoy the drinks, my compliments." Taking a sip of his own glass he gets ready to depart.

Rebecca continues watching the man. "Actually why don't you sit down. Not everyday one gets to talk to an Imperial Marshal." She says, her voice gets a little harder. "We don't mind the new company."

"Hands on the table of course," Raxis adds with a smile, motioning to the chair across from him. "You weren't invited to begin with, but if I know you well enough you're going to learn from this experience in your own manner." He adds, dragging off of his cigar. "What brought you to us, Krieg? I'm curious. Oh...and do be kind not to look under the table. We'd hate you to view us as rude. But we're just talking right now. I just suppose it would be...polite to inform you that we're interested in conversation before anything else."

Looking down at them from where he was standing Krieg knew what was up. It was a dangerous game for them to be playing, especially due to the fact he was not here alone. The ISB had a way of being with him, which was appreciated most of the time. Not to mention there were troops nearby, covert of course. However, he did say intervention shouldn't be required, they were only a hapless group of rebel pilots. He was getting the impression this female didn't have much in the way of common sense from her defiant stares. He would be a fool to sit, standing was the way to go in this case. Of course they had blasters, any fool could figure that out. "No, no... I interrupted. At best I'll stay standing for a bit, but I'm not here for long. Figured I could be nice to a few pilots in a place like this." He was starting to see how thier personal lives were... it was reflected in how they flew.

Rebecca flashes a knowing smile. "Suit yourself, then." She shrugs and for the first time scans the room. "If I wanted to, I could've shot you dead where you stand, Marshal." As she says Marshal she injects enough venom in her voice to choke a bantha. "I don't care about my life when I can kill a top ranking Imperial. But I'm feeling a bit charitable this evening. So if you walk away and get back in your ship and fly back to whatever Hutt induced hole you crawled from, you won't see us again." She settles her gray eyes solidly upon Krieg and doesn't blink one bit.

Turning to look at Rebecca, Raxis slowly regards her words for a moment. His eyebrows slightly lower in reaction, and then turns back to Krieg. "He knows he'll see us again." Raxis says flatly, watching the Marshall. "If you're willing to kill an Imperial even if it kills you, then if you let him go you know we're going to be fighting him again, Rebecca." Raxis replies, dragging off of his cigar. Sipping his Coholl again, he regards the Marshal. "Raptor. You shoot me down. Often." He adds with a slight smile, introducing himself.

Tipping his glass to Raptor he replies, "A wise man you are raptor, however I'm the real Raptor I. As for your friend, you should tell her she is the sort that perpetuate this war. I do believe you understand that the enemy you know cannot be worse than the enemy you have no idea about. You probably know as well as I do that the galaxy needs some form of order to not destroy itself, the vast majority of the galaxy lives in peace. But I digress." Taking a good swig of his drink he about finishes it. "And miss Sparky, you should be aware that you could have been on your way to Kessel right now." Grinning he finishes the last of his drink, setting the glass on the table.

Rebecca nods a bit to Raxis' words as her eyes continue to fixate on Krieg. "I meant in person, if that happens I doubt one of us will leave the encounter alive, and I've had the pleasure of damaging this ones ship once and will probably do so again." She flashes Krieg a nasty smile at his words. "Well, I know who the rightful government of the Galaxy is, and I currently fly for them. I won't ever forget that it was Imperials who killed my father, and who forcefully invaded /my/ planet. You should be ashamed of yourself for even being born as one of us." Her voice during the tirade hardens to pure steel and her eyes cloud over as her anger starts to build. "As for Kessel?" She laughs coldly. "The inner core will have gone nova before I step one foot on that rock."

Sipping his drink again, Raxis watches Krieg as Rebecca's words flow past him. A strange look waxes over his eyes as he drags off of his cigar and merely listens for the moment, interested in hearing the Marshal's response. Sniffing in as he holds the cigar with his right hand, he scratches the bridge of his nose and leans back in his chair a bit.

Looking to them all he says, "What good is it to fight for something if you cannot even have the civility to live with the other inhabitants of the galaxy when this is all over? You say one thing, but do another. It is for that reason why we continue to fight, and there may never be an end because of it. You can fool yourself, but you don't fool those around you." Somehow he was saying this for Raxis, in a different way. The war needed an end, and it would be brought one. That was Krieg's goal. The discussion of how to live in peace was a matter of debate, but it was impossible with the war being fought this long.

Krieg Slipping a small datapad the size of a credit card across the table his eyes narrow as he looks at her. "irez otra tikanar long chuk riggra hakude hlur shaun flo otra kachem Bla hakude fen saban" (speaking in Corellian)

Rebecca relaxes just a tad as the words she was expecting to her are not said. She glances at the datapad for a second then pushes it back towards Krieg. "I already know your ship. It'll be the most damaged one there." She says as a sarcastic joke, knowing full well the ship would have been repaired by now.

Any bar with the name 'Bogs' just does not seem to bode well to the dark visaged woman who makes her way into the bar. When the 'guide' to the place calls this planet 'a rock in space with no atmosphere but an internal colony,' the woman doesn't bother to pack sun screen. Though the notion to carry a bottle of some sort of disenfectant and to have her sense of smell surgically removed for the time being maybe does appeal to her. But, into Bogs she goes. Liza has arrived.

A small knowing look passes between the two's exchange as he drags off of his small, thin cigar again. Exhaling the smoke he catches someone approaching out of the corner of his eye and lifts an eyebrow. A knowing smile crosses his lips. They were multiplying. "So...I'll cut to the chase." Raxis looks up to Krieg again, keeping the approaching Dante in his peripheral vision. "I've already gleamed that you didn't come here to find us, you had previous business. So what's the game? We walk away free and clear?" Raxis asks, lifting an eyebrow.

Chuckling just a little with that evil grin appearing again Krieg replies, "I do think you already know the answer to your own question. A known enemy is perferred over the one who is not. Besides, I seem to have a duel to attend in the near future." Nodding to them all he keeps the grin, "I do have other business to attend to. Enjoy your drinks." He doesn't give them any other goodbye as he turns to make his way out, they were officers of the other side. Perhaps not the most sociable, but the enemy nontheless.

"Sithspit.." a decidedly female voice mutters out as someone enters the cantina, looking at her wrist and then up at the room itself, frowning a bit as she does so. It's Liza, someone at least one person will recognize if they bother to look up. She's in her civvies and looking for a drink, something she was hoping to do with a few of her comrades. But timing is an issue for her, it'd seem, as she's late and annoyed because of it.

Rebecca breaths a bit easier but keeps her blaster on her lap. She looks over at Raxis and says. "You do know he probably placed a transmitter or bug on you, right?" She looks over at him. "It's one of the oldest tricks in the book." She sips her whiskey that she hasn't touched since Krieg's visit.

"Probably...we'll have to look into the possibility." He adds, looking up to see Liza walking in with Dante. "Oh and would you look at that," He adds, making eye contact with Liza as she enters. Chuckling to himself, he sighs and looks over his shoulder for a moment, not seeing anything attached to his clothing.

"They probably serve that here," Dante remarks as she hears Liza'scomment, spotting her friend near the entrance of the bar and angling towards her in time to have overheard that remark. "They probably have it on tap, in several different flavors, and high/low cal, to boot." A wide grin froms on her face for a moment before she scans the room again, "I can't tell if we're late, or if there really isn't a 'happy hour' to be had here, by the way. See anyone you know?"

Liza looks across the room just as Dante asks if she sees anyone and...lo and behold, that's just when she sees Raxis and Rebecca, the latter someone she doesn't recognize. "Oh...hey.." Grabbing for Dante's arm, she tries to get the Wing Commander to stop while she turns slightly, a half-arsed attempt at concealing herself from Raxis although she's pretty certain that she's been seen. "Don't look now, but it seems this place doesn't serve just Imperials." Of course she knows they don't just serve Imperials, as this is where she had met Raxis for the first time, several days ago, but she's trying to blow it off as if she has never been here before.

Rebecca pokes around at what's left of the chicken poppers and and ughs. "I think I lost my appetite." She holsters her blaster in her shoulder holster and finishes her whiskey. "Since you're my ride off this rock, and I'd imagine you'd want to stay awhile longer. I think I'll try and find a hotel somewhere and crash." She slides her chair back and begins to stand up.

"Suit yourself if you want to miss the conversation with Dante and Liza," Raxis muses, leaning back in his chair a little bit. "If Krieg holds up, he wouldn't collect us here. He'll want to save it for a bit. Why don't you take Gene back and get some rest. I know this place so I'll be fine. I'll see you in the morning...or faster." He winks. "Just don't do anything you can't walk away from in thirty seconds."

Dante arches one eyebrow at Liza then rubs one hand over the top of her head, using the same movement to cover her quick glance sent around the room. "I would wager that this place serves anyone who can afford to buy the bantha piss that they serve," she remarks in a low voice. "Who do you see that I don't recognize on sight alone?"

"Raxis.." Liza hisses between clenched teeth, her body tensing now as she sees Rebecca standing. It's nervousness borne from not knowing what to expect and, as far as she knows, Rebecca could be standing up with the intention of coming over to cause trouble. "You know him...He's Raptor. Ghost 3." Yup. Raxis just got outted by her.

"Yes it's me, Dante." Raxis says under his breath, watching Liza and Dante's exchange well out of earshot. Dragging off of his cigar, he sips his drink and relaxes. "She won't able to resist to come over and talk about how poor a shot I am..."

As she stands up, Gene follows suit while quickly trying to finish his drink. At Raxis' words she looks over to Gene and pouts a bit. "I guess that takes out lovemaking." He spits what liquor he drank through his nose and chuckles a bit. "Face it Raxis, you /are/ a bad shot." She flashes a smile as she turns and hooks her arm under Gene's and they start to walk out of the tavern.

"Don't be so sure," Raxis replies as they walk away, to her lovemaking comment. "Well maybe I'll stall em, give you two lovebirds some time." He adds as they fade from view. He turns to regard the two imperial pilots openly now, awaiting them.

In response to Liza's hissed comment and identification, Dante smiles. It's a slow smile, in fact, a mere curve of her lips at first before it blossoms into a wide easy smile that reveals sparkling white teeth in her dark face. Her dark eyes sparkle as well, matching that dazzling smile and she speaks in a nice soft voice to Liza, "Really? I've been looking forward to meeting him, face to face so to speak, for ages. Which one is he?" she asks, turning to scan the room again and spotting the fellow staring in their direction with a smug look on his face. "Ahh, that must be him," she says and starts to cut her way through the crowd, that dazzling smile seeming to lend to her ability to move through the room. Upon arrival she rests her hands on her hips and surveys Raxis and the fellow near him, "So, you're the infamous Ghost 3, the one called Raxis?"

Rebecca and Gene walk through the crowed unknowingly passing the two female pilots and they disappear around the corner.

"Dante.." Liza squeaks out, her eyes going wide. She then blushes at herself as she hears how her voice sounds, watching the pair go out the door before she hurries after the woman she arrived with. "Squeak..great." Sighing as she remembers all the times she was poked a by Juran for her squeaking while they were on the Smuggler's Moon, Liza can only stand there with a blush once she arrives at the table, her eyes narrowing as she regards Raxis curiously.

"That I most definitely am, Dante." Raxis replies, giving her knowledge that he knows her name to ensure the introduction is finished. "Infamous? I didn't think I'd grown to that level of recognition as it appears my tactics lately have proven better than flying." He flashes a charming grin, motioning the two of them to sit. "Hello again Liza, might I congratulate you on that hit on my reactor core. Almost killed me, actually. Please. Sit."

"Oh I don't know, you know my name and face, and I now know your name and your face, it makes these little contests of ours so much more.. personal, don't you think?" Dante drawls out in a voice that is both bright and somehow a lazy drawl at the same time. She gestures for Liza to at least ATTEMPT to take a deep breath, "We're all pilots here, after all, well the three of us, at any rate. I don't know about the rest of the folks in this room. " Her head tilts slightly to the side, dark eyes surveying Raxis from head to the edge of the table and back, "So, you going to buy us a drink or do your manners not extend that far?"

Liza blinks as Dante gestures and she takes a couple deep breaths, the Sarian eventually relaxing now that she's actually getting oxygen into her lungs. "You're looking rather unharmed for having taken such a hit to your fighter, Raxis. I am assuming that the same can no be said for your comrades." She smirks at that while sitting, falling quiet now. Yes, Dante can do the speaking for them.

Turning to the approaching server droid, Raxis reveals some credits. "Put them on my tab and a refill." He motions, downing the last of his Coholl as the droid refills it with a dispenser. "Of course I'll buy the both of you a drink. Mother didn't raise a scoundrel." He adds, flashing a typical flyboy smile. "Well...the contests are going to be personal on one level or another. This familiarity breeds it a bit different but I can handle it. After all, we've all met unoficially before anyway."

Laughing quietly, that bright dazzling grin flashing into place for a brief moment, Dante drags one of the chairs away from the table and seats herself at a point that's nearly exactly between Liza and Raxis, leaning back once she does so and crossing her legs at the ankles beneath the tables. "Well now, there's only so much familiarity that a few drinks and some attempts to kill each other can breed. After all, familiarity breeds contempt, or so I'm told. Do you hold us in contempt, Raxis? Your mother didn't raise a scoundrel, as you said, but did she raise you to be a nice, good old fashioned boy who loves the New Republic and all that it stands for - and to hate us heathen old Imperials?"

Liza blushes and looks at Dante, startled at her choice in where she places her chair. "Uh.." She bites her lower lip before turning towards the server, ordering a glass of ice water, extra ice. She then waits for a moment before she shakes her head, her lips tugging up into a slight smile before she leans closer to the table to rest her forearms upon it. "What is it about you that brings out a person's inner-philosopher, Raxis?" She looks at Dante then and waves a hand, smirking openly now as she says, "You might be surprised by the answer."

"Mother didn't raise a bastard." Raxis smiles to Dante, raising his glass to her in a slight salute before drinking it. "Actually no. I don't hate the Imperials. I don't like harming them and I'd prefer peace if that's what you're asking. There are many things I love about the New Republic, but a few Imperial tactical decisions leave me...shall we say...shaken in the belief that the Imperials love their people as much as some of our Senators do? The sooner a cease fire is called the sooner we can return to finding ways to increase our life expectancy." He adds, with a slight bit of question in his voice. Turning to Liza, he smiles softly. "Actually...I was able to shut the core down before explosion. I froze like an ice cube, but I was fine. I chalk it up to a bit of luck and spiritual well being that it didn't kill me. Perhaps I deserved a freebie after aiming at so many TIE solar fins instead of the center mass."

He pauses, rolling Liza's question in his head. "Perhaps because I'm not the terrorist people would expect me to be? Sure I've given some stupid speeches over the comms, but I'm human...just like you two."

Dante actually tosses her head back and laughs, a rich sound of amusement that seems to startle some of the patrons nearest this particular table. "Raxis," she begins, then shakes her head slowly, indulging in another quiet fit of laughter and wiping at her eyes with the back of one hand. "You are a riot. Do you really think that even with the end of so called 'hostilities' and a formal 'cease fire' that the violence would end? That pilots would no longer be pitted against pilots? That the blood shed would just stop? Come now," she challenges, still smiling, leaning back in her chair and shaking her head slowly from side to side. "Certainly your mother didn't raise an idiot, on top of everything else she taught you. Violence begets violence, after all. Generations of blood shed cannot be undone by a mere wave of a ceremonial wand and the signing of a series of proclamations," she states with a slow shake of her head.

Liza nods as she listens to them both, Dante and Raxis both having valid points, points the young Molokai can not even begin to find fault in despite how she'd love to pick what Raptor said just to be spiteful. The water finally comes and she takes it and hurriedly sips from the glass as she mulls the words around in her head.

"Well I see no better answer, really. You have one side that, as the Imperials say, want to ensure safety for their people. You have another side that wants freedom from the Empire. Sure, we have many people that are viciously angry about Alderaan, but the only answer in the end is to kill eachother until one side wins, or cut our losses and move on. Sure there'd be distance and grudgery..." Raxis replies, lifting an eyebrow to Dante. "...but for pilots and soldier's it's simple. Follow Orders. If only the Moffs and Senators were to set that line we, the soldiers, would have to go defensive on both sides. I'm not stupid Dante. Death will happen everywhere even on a good day, but this is going to keep happening until another planet gets blown away."

"Alderaan, Cochran, a few stray asteroid planets here and there, a few settlements razed, research stations blown out of the water, the Crusader going up in a fiery plume," Dante drawls in a soft voice, that smile still playing across her face. "So, which planet would you suggest we use next as an object lesson? Mon Cal would be a noisy target, but it's too heavily defended so it's not really worth the effort. Yavin, while not a military target of any signifigance, would be a great morale bust to you folks, being the boyhood home of that fellow Skywalker. Or we could take a few pot shots at Ord Mantell. Nothing serious. Boil away the ocean here, raze the mountains down over there, shake up the atmosphere, shiver a few tectonic fault lines for emphasis. Nothing truly planet destabilizing. Lets see.." she appears to be making a list, running one hand again over the top of her head, "so many targets. So few of them really worth going for, you know. So, which one do you suggest?"

"We could always destroy that damn moon with the little bears on it.." Liza adds in a half-hearted attempt to add to the conversation, the suggestion given as she looks Raxis right in the face. "It doesn't matter. We've discussed this before. It's a matter of perspective. We will always feel we're in the right where our enemy's in the wrong and very rarely will we be swayed into believing otherwise." The glass is set down upon the table and then she shakes her head, her eyes lowering as she speaks further. "I personally have no qualms with anything I've done. Maybe I am dillusional or something, but the deaths? The loss of lives and ships and everything on our side and yours, Raxis? Even the killing of millions of people on a planet...we did what we felt was needed. And I believe that if the roles were reversed and the New Republic were in the Empire's place, they'd do the very same thing."

"Perhaps they would..." Raxis nods, looking from Liza to Dante. Relaxing in his chair to sip his drinks, he regards them both openly. "But really, Dante. How can you joke about that? Familiarity causing issues can you accept that there were children on those planets? I've heard many an Imperial note that they're fighting to protect their children. Now we can delude ourselves into saying that the children were going to grow into rebels...but the fact remains that even though we have to follow orders we don't have to be monsters ourself. Then again, we don't get paid to think about that do we?" He adds, dragging off of his thin cigar. Exhaling the smoke he continues. Leaning forward to face Dante, he lifts an eyebrow. "So let me ask you this. Do you -really- mean that? Do you feel proud at the idea of involving yourself in widespread death of civillians, and then turning to say that -we- are terrorists?" He pulls back, glancing to Liza. "I think history serves it best who has the higher kill rate. Alot of our people are throwing themselves on your swords. Would I -ever- agree to boil Coruscant? Never."

Dante chuckles quietly and winks at Liza, "The fierce war cry of 'yub yub' is enough to turn even the most battle hardened storm trooper into a terrified of green recruits," she jokes with a quiet laugh and a slow shake of her head. "Getting rid of the home world of the teddy bears might not be a bad idea after all. We could always name Raxis here as the inspiration for doign so, Raxis would appreciate the alliteration, right?" she asks, arching one eyebrow at Raxis before smiling yet again. "And of course I mean that, Raxis. My job is to deal death, as often and as efficiently as possible. The more of you folks that die, the less of you there are to sortie out into combat. When all of you are dead, then there won't be anyone left for us to fight. I call that winning, by default."

Liza shrugs. Looking at Raxis and then to Dante, she finds herself at a bit of a loss as what to say. It's getting late, anyhow, and it's probably rendering her a bit unable to retaliate verbally in anyway that'd make any kind of sense. So, with nothing to say and very little to do, she stands up and walks over to Raxis. Placing a hand on either side of the pilot's face, she bends over after lifting his face up and plants a kiss right upon his lips. It's nothing torrid, mind you, nor is it allowed to linger for more than a few seconds, but it's a kiss and once it's broken she stands straight again and tugs her shirt into place, straightening her attire before looking to Dante. "I'm tired. Should be off."

Lifting his eyebrows, Raxis can't help but grant a bit of a tongue in cheek smile and lean back in his seat with an impish grin across his face. Looking from Liza to Dante, he nudges his head in Liza's direction. Looking up at Liza he speaks to both of them. "Well..." He smiles, clearing his throat, actually at a loss for words. "...I suppose that means you're going to stop shooting at me Liza?" He smiles, knowing well what the answer is, tilting his eyes to Dante, smile still on his face. "Look...I'm a death dealer too. Not the best of luck against your aces, but I keep getting knocked down and get back up again. I won't say I don't have differences with most of my peers, but I assure you we're not bloodthirsty bastards. That, and I don't really believe you mean what you say, Dante. You're good at what you do..." He pauses, grinning again impishly. "...but you haven't shot me down yet, you know."

Dante laughs again, the low sound of amusement again drifting from the table as she tilts her chair back, smiling impishly at Raxis and then Liza. "Well now, if I'd know you had a weakness for Imperial women, Raxis, we'd have sent a woman to fetch you a long time ago. Get you properly besotted THEN knock you out of the fight for good. Unfortunately, with the intel gathered so late in the day we're just going to have to kill you the old fashioned way. Now," she continues, still with that dazzling smile on her face, "we can do this the fun way, which is to continue to shoot at each other until one of us doesn't make it back. OR you can hold still and we'll take turns shooting at you. OR.. " and her eyes begin to sparkle, "you can make a run for it now and retreat back to your ship before I slam your face into the table and remind you of why it is dangerous for bone shards to be mashed into the front of your brain. So many choices, dear Raxis, so many choices."

Liza looks only slightly disappointed at Raxis' reaction to the kiss but she is quick to recover. It isn't like she was expecting him to swoon and fall at her feet, not that it wouldn't be amusing, but she definitely does not need an NR pilot following her like a puppy dog or a shadow or something. "Don't do that to the table, Dante.." she says while reaching out to tussle the man's hair. "Raxis has a hard head. You might break it. The table, I mean." The amusement fades from her face, then, and she sighs, shaking her head marginally before she steps away from the table and her conversation partners. "You know, I'd really love to stay but I am finding myself truly lacking the stomach for discussion on personal ethics verus what it is our work dictates we are to do. Raxis, please. Let's find something else to talk about besides that." She turns around, still departing from the table, watching them both while she does so, some how managing not to bump into anyone while she walks backwards. "Fair well, Raxis. Will see you later. And Dante.." The woman's given a jaunty little mockery of a salute, "I'll see you back on the ship. Don't let the rogue steal your heart. Doubt he'd know what to do with it if he were to get his hands on it."

Giving Liza a warm smile as she departs, Raxis replies to her, flushing at the cheeks a little from her kiss. "Maybe next time we'll talk about something better." He adds with a hint of flirtation in his voice, waving her goodbye. "I'll see you around." Turning to Dante, he gives her a chuckle and shakes his head. Stopping to down the last of his drink, he stands to stub out his thin cigar. "Your methods Dante are far less refined than that of your superiors but I can accept that. We have hardliners on our sides too. Just do me a favor. You don't have to accept or even look at the faces of the people you kill, but you're being a liar if you don't. If you want to talk bravery, then maybe someday you'll find the heart to keep going even when you can put faces to the KIA list. Your Admiral and Marshal seem more accepting of the position I'm in, even if I don't fit the design of a terrorist. Regardless...I'll be seeing you around without bone shards in my brain." He smiles, paying her tab for another drink if she should choose to take it. "Even I, Dante, will have a drink on you if one of us Ghosts shoots you down. Let's do this the fun way for now." He finishes, leaving a bit of mystery in his voice as he turns to walk away. "We're not so different."

Dante chuckles softly as first Liza then Raxis make their exits, signalling for one drink, on his tab, before she will make her way to the door as well. "Perhaps not, " she calls out, "but I believe my opinion is far more realistic than yours is. Have a nice night," she adds with a jaunty salute before she settles back in her chair again.

Saluting in return, he gives her a nod of respect and exits the bar and disappears into the massive space station.