The Tholian Legacy: Ultimatums

A single figure currently occupies the bridge of the Faux. Seven feet tall, check. Paws, pointed ears, and tail, check. Considering there's only one Demarian on board, it's more than likely Swiftfoot. The felinoid eyes the viewscreen somewhat dubiously, watching the landing pad goings-on.

It's the aroma of tea that precedes her, the strong, but pleasant scent of Russian black which seems to accompany the kapitan wherever she goes. A moment later, she enters the bridge, Jack (the dog) at her heel. "Anyone taking aim at us?"

"Hm? Oh, no," Swiftfoot says, shrugging and looking back over her shoulder. "Therre's not even much going on. Just watching, forr lack of anything betterr to do. I didn't think going outside alone would be intelligent, all things taken into considerration."

"Very wise," Ace nods, her gaze sweeping the docks below, "You certain you are up for this?"

Swiftfoot quirks an eyeridge and gives a flick of her tail. "Yep," is her simple reply, followed by a shrug. "If it's eitherr do something prroactive orr wait forr everry two-bit wanna-be bounty hunterr in the Orrion Arrm to be on my tail... I'd rratherr -do- something. The disguise won't thrrow people forr long."

"Considering there is photo of orange Demarian, think perhaps you will not be turning many heads, da?" Ace says, "I, on the other hand, will be relying...on a hat." She smoothly puts a black fedora on her head, running her fingers along the brim in a well-practiced gesture. The top half of her face is immediately lost in shadow as the kapitan takes on a more sinister air.

>> Outside the Ship: From outside of the landing cavern, a skytruck makes its way into the bay. Painted in glossy black, with no identification marks on them or imperfections in the finish. The only thing that breaks it up is the white 'O.A.R.A.S. Science Department' marked on its side. There's a good chance that something -big- is waiting outside.

Hmm... Was that three more following it in and also Caravan marked in the same colours and naming? Well, the first skytruck takes a position near the entrance to the bazzar, while others take positions near the mouth to the cavern.

"But it's a nice hat," Swiftfoot says, grinning. She quirks an eyeridge then. "You know, we could always dye yourr hairr. That might help." The Demarian turns back to the viewscreen at the sudden upsurge in noise from outside. "Huh. The hell's goin on now? Been quiet all night, now this crrap."

Ace frowns and steps forward, putting a hand on the back of Swifty's chair as she looks out at the small fleet of ships landing on the docks, "Is potential distraction...or trouble."

>> Outside the Ship: The skytruck that landed near the door to the bazaar door opens, and a few suited figures walk down. Crisply cut suits at that. "Mien gott, rockrat hontin', ya?" one member of the group remarks loudly to his companions. A Wiedhiemer by accent. Another one of the figures surveys the dock, his eyes dancing from ship to ship, before he casually turns and heads towards the doors of the township of U-999. Though he does raise a hand up to his ear for a moment and rubs something.

The other three and the Caravan class remain where they are.

Swiftfoot frowns and nods, her tail flicking as she watches the screen. "I don't like it. Two at the landing caverrn exit, one at the Bazaar exit..." She shakes her head, triangular ears flattening out. "And that Carravan. I don't like this at all. Maybe we should just... y'know, come back anotherr time?" The Demarian shrugs vaguely. "If they'll let us leave, that is. Somehow... I don't think they'rre going to. Not easily, anyway."

"Do not wish to be sitting duck," Ace says with a frown, "Stay here and we are trapped, but in the tunnels, we stand a better chance of blending in and avoiding attention, da?"

>> Outside the Ship: As the crew/researchers from the OARAS skytruck heads into the city, another ship comes in. One that Ace would be familiar with, the UKT Red Dragoon. It's still painted in that semi-faded crimson red, effectively hiding the rust spots that have started to appear through from the body of the Caravan class underneath. To be honest, the ship looks like it would be at home in a junk yard. The lights on the side of the ship flash in recognition.

"You do, perrhaps," the Demarian says, then chuckles mirthlessly, her eyes still on the screen as the other ship lands. "You don't see many of my kind out herre, though admittedly the ones that I -have- seen would likely keep many people frrom asking too many questions." Swiftfoot shrugs and offers a flick of one ear, then looks back at the Ungstiri. "I trrust yourr judgement, chief. You know that otherr ship, by the way, orr was it flashing its lights at the OARAS guys?"

Ace cocks her head as the ship comes in, reaching over to the console to flick the Faux's lights in a responding greeting. "Have no idea who is kapitan at the moment," she says, "But the ship...have seen it around often. Is sort of running joke here as it is often the stakes in whatever game of chance is popular at the moment."

>> Outside the Ship: The UKT Red Dragoon settles down on the landing pad, and the door slowly opens on the aft hatch. No one exits yet. The OARAS ships are still sitting there dormant, perhaps simply observing.

Swiftfoot chuckles and nods, giving an amused flick of her ears. "So, it could be anyone. Well, that's not necessarrily a bad thing," she reasons with a shrug. "Means it could be good -orr- bad, verrsus just plain being bad." She eyes the opening hatch with interest, her tail swishing from side to side a bit.

"Well," Ace says, checking over her weapons, "Can sit here and watch or can go out and find out what is going on. Am in favor of not being in the dark, da? Shall we?"

>> Outside the Ship: A crew of Ungstiri nationals make their way down from the boarding ramp, not seeming the least bit concerned. Yulya's in the group, sporting a Kommisar's cap that she's most likely aquired through some strange yet illegal means. She's a pretty little thing, most likely standing about 5'2", and the voice of an angel. She gives her pilfered officer's cap a playful tug down, casting a glance towards the Faux and motioning with her head towards the commons.

>> Outside the Ship: The Red Dragoon, a shitty looking caravan sits on the landing pad. While four black skytrucks marked with 'O.A.R.A.S. Science Department' are located in tactical positions, and also a black marked caravan class, which is the same. One of the skytrucks has disembarked some of it's crew.

"Mmh," the felinoid grunts in agreement, nodding her head. She stands up from the nav console and stretches, then follows Ace's example, giving her weapons a quick check. "Forr the rrecorrd, darrkness isn't all bad." A dry chuckle follows the observation. The two Fauxites appear to be preparing to head outside. Ace is back in her usual long coat with assorted and sundry weaponry with the addition of a black fedora which adds a bit of a sinister air to the tall Ungstiri. "Considering we just got an invitation? Who are we to turn her down, da?"

Just as Jack steps in, half-dressed and with sleep-mussed hair. The palm of one hand is dug into the hollow of an eyesocket, the other hand busy with a coffee mug. Yawwwwn. "Whatawedoin?"

>> Outside the Ship: Yulya and her crew of dregs slowly meander towards the entrance of the township, her unspoken invite having been given. She does give the skytruck closest to the entrance a critical look.

"We arre going outside," Swiftfoot says, one eyeridge quirking upward. "If I had to guess, I'd say that you werre just waking up." She chuckles then, and offers a flick of her tail. "You goin with? I'd rrecommend a little morre clothing, chief."

"And a gun or two," Ace says, "Flew to 999 while you slept, and now we find that there are some unusual visitors blocking us in. So we are going to see what we can see, da?"

"I got clothes. Ain't got a gun." Jack says, scratching at his head. "I'll go see what I can scrounge."

"Prrobably a sparre stun pistol at the verry least," Swiftfoot says, shrugging. "If not something betterr. You can always use one of mine if therre's not. Not like I can use em both at once anyhow." "Take what you need," Ace nods in agreement, "Should be some in the crew quarters and others in my own locker. Meet us on the docks, da?"

"Alright." Jack says, disappearing that way.

On the ground, things aren't much different. Except for that feeling of being watches from all angles. Three of the four skytrucks are still sitting there, engines idling. If one was to look outside, past the barrier, they'd notice a Leviathan just waiting out there.

The crew of the Red Dragoon currently stand near the doors, Yulya stands there with a slightly concerned look on her face. The woman reaches up, pushing the Kommisar's cap from her eyes, eyeing the Faux.

Ace strides out onto the docks, hat low in her eyes, walking with the confident stride of someone who is not to be messed with. She's aware of the eyes that follow her and she clearly doesn't care, heading towards the township.

Swiftfoot stalks a short distance behind Ace, eyes slightly narrowed in a perpetually grim expression. Her ears are held upward, however, and the end of her tail flicks somewhat irritably. Yes, indeed, she's aware of the watchers, and seems to be annoyed about it, if anything.

Yulya rocks a little bit on her feet, raising up on her toes as Ace draws closer and then dropping back down. She doesn't seem the least bit concerned. "Kapitan, if work, then nyet," she automatically states, "if zocial call, then da. Is goo' ta speak, like vi und krew speak with ya in private." She even offers a mock salute, before smirking at the Demarian. "I once had Demarian in crew, until he had accident with ze airlock... Nyi z'eal ruble again, da?" A sweet smile follows this.

Jack follows a little later, adjusting the shoulder holster for the Ungstiri model pistol he picked up. He follows after Swiftfoot and Ace, perhaps too slowly to pick up the first bit of the conversation.

"Would be more than willing to chat over a drink," Ace says cooly, "Preferably away from any airlocks so no one is tempted to cause any more accidents, da?"

"Howw unforrtunate," Swiftfoot says, one eyeridge quirking upward. One ear lays back for a moment, and she shrugs, then nods in agreement with Ace.

"Who had an accident?" Jack. Naive. Curious.

"If I wan' vi ta have akident, den vi have accident," Tasya teases, giving a wink to Ace. "Vi nyi have reazon for akident. Arrange if vi wish." Another oh-so-sweet smile, before she takes a step to the side. "Vi go first, I nyi like havin' exile behind back... Nyi that I do not trust... Da, I nyi trust, vi walk in front."

Boris is there, who appears to have been gazing at the Demarian before Jack comes into range. A wink and then kissy lips are given to the human.

"Am no more trusting than you," Ace replies dryly, "So rather than debate the issue, let us walk beside one another. Is better for chatting, da? Especially since this is...how did you say it? Ah, da, a social visit."

Swiftfoot eyes Boris vaguely, then follows his gaze to the approaching form of Jack. She nods and flicks her tail at him, then looks back over at Yulya, seemingly content to let Ace do the talking.

Jack looks to Boris, looks around to see who he could be kissy-facing, then does a little finger waggling in greeting. Then falls in position.

"Then vi no wish talk," Tasya replies, with an uncaring shrug. "Vi walk in front or nyi talk, da?" The whole time her voice is calm, even after she states her demands. "I easy solve."

Boris points his finger at Jack, then back and himself and starts to mimic humping air and then blows another kiss, but frowns a bit at the conversation between Ace and Yulya.

Rockrat hunting? Hmm... There goes one now, being chased by one guy in a blue suit, "Bekommen Sie Ihnen fucking-Ratte hier zurck!" he yells as he chases it with a net.

"Then perhaps we will simply return to our ship and skip the pleasant conversation, da?" Ace turns to go.

Swiftfoot's eyes narrow further as the conversation progresses, but her ears flick as her attention's caught by the rockrat-hunting man in the blue suit. "Huh," is all she says, offering a shrug and turning to follow Ace as well.

Jack forms a circle with his left hand, presents it to Boris, then lewdly slams a fist through it. Then shrugs and waves before turning to follow Ace. Yulya doesn't seem to care less, shrugs, turns and then starts walk away, two of the crew immedately takes steps in to cover their boss. "Have plezant day, nyi let door hit arze on way out."

Poor Boris, he glances over his shoulder to Yulya and then smiles as he looks back to Jack, another frown as he looks back to Yulya and his shoulders slump and he lets out this defeated sigh as he looks to Jack with puppy dog eyes. Poor little fella.

The guy in the blue suit continues to chase that rockrat around, still swearing in German. "Nur Wartezeit, bis ich Sie bekomme!" He swings and he misses.

"Must not have been feeling very social I suppose," Ace says as Yulya departs, shrugging a bit. "Is a shame. Have missed the home town gossip of late."

Swiftfoot snorts and shakes her head. "What was that all about, anyway? What's the difference who walks in front?" The felinoid shrugs vaguely, eyes the retreating form of Yulya for a moment, then follows after Ace.

"Meow?" Jack asks with a crooked smile at Swiftfoot's back. "Eh, well, social folks can be scary, ya know?"

Yulya and co disappear from sight, heading into the township.

One by one, the three remaining skytrucks start to open their hatches, but only two men leave the ship. A figure in a grey suit makes his way out, having a rather arrogant look to him. "Warum sagten Sie mir nicht frher, Sie Idiot?" he states to the man in the blue suit beside him. "Teilen Sie mir dieses mit, warum ich einfach jemanden mit einem Gehirn nicht finde, Sie zu ersetzen? Sie sind vorgesehen dafr, Profi zu sein, albern Sie nicht herum." A disguisted and stressed sigh follows, then his eyes fall upon the man chasing the rockrat and he raises a palm to his temple. "It's hard to find good help."

And Larry the rockrat catcher continues to chase the rockrat in the name of science.

"If it is important, am hoping she will contact me again," Ace says, dropping her voice, "And considering they have us outnumbered and we are the ones with the prices on our heads? Am not about to let them walk behind us, da? Is asking for it. But," she says, "We can wander into town for a drink and see if she is still interested in socializing."

Swiftfoot eyes Jack for a moment and chuckles, offering a flick of her ears. "You'll get it someday, chief," she reassures him, then turns to Ace, nodding at the fedora-topped Kapitan. "Sounds like a plan." One eyeridge goes upward as Gray Suit apparently finds Blue Suit wanting, the Demarian's curious gaze resting on the rockrat-hunter again.

Jack looks that way too, but moves up beside Ace, reaching for the Fedora. "What's up with the hat, Ace?" If successful in his grab, he'll take it away only to put it on the top of his own skull.

"You there! Yes, you, the lanky bird beside the projectile furrball coughing fuzzarsed Demarian and the man-lover!" the grey suit states, as he levels his mirrored gaze onto the Ace, Swifty and Jack. "Do you have a moment? We need to have a chat. It's in relation to your bounties... We've been tracking you since you left New Luna." He offers a faint smile, though his gaze continues to linger on the man chasing the rockrat before he sighs again. "Please excuse Fitz, he is... As you say, not all that bright."

Larry (aka Fitz) stops when he hears his name mentioned and peers in the direction of the grey suit. "Wollen Sie, dab ich etwas mache?"

"Was hiding my face," Ace says dryly to Jack under her breath, "So that no one would recognize me and try to collect the bounty." She looks over at the man in the suit, cocking her head just the slightest bit, "Do not tell me that all of this," she gestures to the assortment of vessels, "It is for me?" Sarcasm, clearly.

Swiftfoot puts a paw to her forehead as Jack settles the hat onto his own head. She eyes the gray suited figure dubiously before she leans closer to Ace to whisper something to the Ungstiri. A wry smirk follows whatever it is that she might have said to the Kapitan.

You whisper, "So I guess it's too late to say 'what bounty?' right?" to Ace.

"Oh." Jack says, fedora brim pulled down over his eyes. He ruined the disguise! An apolagetic smile is directed at the Ungstiri, managing to avoid noticing Swiftfoot's facepawing. "Sorry about that. Very fetching hat though." Gray-Suit gets a look. "Heeeeey, haaaansome!"

"Forte," the suited figure states, rather casually. "Now my sweet Captain," the man says as he heads towards the group. "Soprano, tenor," two more things that mightn't have a meaning. "We can discuss this as suitable and reasonable people, that could result in my employer dropping that bounty. Or, we can do this the hard way and end up with casualties." The man looks towards Jack, and shakes his head. He's not amused. "I trust we can speak about this like adults, yes?" Fitz gets a long look, before he makes a shooing motion with his hands. "Schlieben Sie sich dem Rest erneut von Ihrer Gruppe an."

It's hard to be taken serious while one of your employees is running around like a blue arsed fly, with a net, chasing after things that gnaw through steel... As Larry runs between the groups, but at the words spoken by grey suit, he wanders off to join the rest of his crew.

"Ah, so your employer, he is the reason we have stopped by for a visit," Ace replies with a nod, "And just who would this person be?"

Swiftfoot shifts a half-step closer to Ace, one eyeridge quirking upward. She frowns then and looks toward Jack. "Sorry, chief, I hate to be the bearrerr of bad news, but... I don't think he likes ya."

"I am truely and utterly devastated. Hold me." Jack says with the extra spiciness that only the rolling of the eyes can suggest. He squeezes Ace's shoulder, leaning against it. He'll probably use it as a shield to ask a low question. "Want me to shoot him now?"

"That information cannot be disclosed," Grey-suit remarks with a faint smile. "Though, if you leave a message at our offices, I'm sure he'll promptly get back to you." A smirk and a shake of his head. "But we'll have a friendly talk, out here, in public, you'll listen to our terms, make a counter offer and we'll conduct business in an orderly fashion. Perhaps you'll even end up making some credits out of this." He gives Swifty and Jack a look that suggests he's mentally undressing them, and then ripping them both limb from limb.

Ace tilts her head towards Swifty and Jack without looking back over her shoulder, "Is hard to say. Sometimes it just takes a little time for people to warm to me, da? And nyet, let us here what he has to say first. Then perhaps you can shoot him." She turns her full attention back to the well dressed gentleman, "So...what would the offer be?"

Swiftfoot chuckles softly and shakes her head, then winks at Jack before shifting her gaze over to Gray Suit. Her ears perk curiously.

What? He didn't do anything wink worthy! Jack manages a crooked grin at Swiftfoot, dropping the arm around Ace, taking a few steps to separate. Won't do to get shot up together at the same time.

"Well, we've classed you both as being useless," Grey-suit bluntly states. "A former employee of ours, Urfkgar, has reported to have had more exposure than any of you three." he looks rather disgusted at this. "You will bring him to us." He slips his hand into his pocket to retrieve some paper and offers it across. "Second marks is Raisa Armondella, captain of the Athena. One hundred and fourty thousand credits, for both, alive and uninjured. If you agree, then we will drop the bounty right here and now. If not..." He speaks once more about nothing in general. "Juliet."

Crew from the ships start to disembark, a group come out from inside of the township, Larry in there two. "Then we might create an incident here. Now, I believe it is time for a counter-proposal from you, my sweet Captain."

"So you wish for us," Ace raises an eyebrow, "To bring you Raisa and Urf for a paltry sum of money because you are not looking to spend the money for us because we are not worth it? And for this you wish to create...an incident." Ace thoughtfully scratches her jaw, slowly shaking her head. "Here is my counter offer. You currently have a bounty out on myself that, as I understand it, you are rescinding just as we meet. We go our separate ways and I do not let the word get out that you are not good for your agreements, which is something that could be very bad for you, especially here. No harm, no foul as the saying goes."

"Hrr," the Demarian says, her brow furrowing at Gray Suit's proposition. Her ears lay back slightly, but her eyes don't leave the newly disembarking crew.

Someone chuckles. The sound is faint at first, lost in the distance, somewhere within one of the parked trucks. Amusement has a way of evolving if the joke in question nags at the mind. This seems to be the case for the man who, now openly laughing -- or rather giggling -- steps out of one of the vehicles. "They say happiness is the most effective medicine," he says, addressing the Fauxites. He is wearing a white suit, with an equally white shirt and dark tie to match his polished shows. "Were I sick, honey, you would've surely cured me." His eyes linger on Ace as he walks in that direction, the men near the greysuit parting for him. "Cured me, I say."

Grey-suit guy shakes his head and laughs. "Oh please," he comments, offering an amused smile. With the man's voice reaching him and his his laughter, then followed white suit approaching, the greysuit respectablely moves out of the side for the other man. Though still stands his ground, but now in silence. Ace folds her arms, her gaze following the new arrival, "Am glad that I could be of help. I take it you are the man in charge, then?" Laughter may be contagious, but over the years, Ace has built up quite a tolerance.

"Not anotherr one," Swiftfoot mutters, one paw going to her forehead. She snorts then, one eyeridge quirking upward as she eyes the white-suited man. Leaning close to the Kapitan, she murmurs, "So, uh, Ace... you got a plan forr this, rright?"

"Mr. White." Jack greets cheerfully, waving. Don't mind him, he's just the cheerleader and designated greeter in this little group.

"No," the man in the white suit answers. His skin is tanned, a slight contrast against the clothing. "I am not in charge. Where are my manners?" He glances quickly at Jack. "They call me Mr. Black." Another giggle. Rather shrill and childish, a fact that may be further hinted at by the overly gentle way he uses the back of his gloved hand to cover his mouth. "All this nonsense. Offers, counter offers, counter counter counter counter offers. Were you a smarter fish, you would've faked agreement and skipped right out of this pond. You didn't, though. This tells me two things: you are either one stupid bitch... or you recognize the danger that our threat poses. I will assume it is the latter. So, allow me to intrude in this... negotiation by putting my own offer on the table." His eyes narrow now upon the Fauxites and his smile (as you may guess, pearly white teeth) is anything but friendly. "You do what my friend here said... or we will change our bounty to target everyone and anyone you love. Anyone you ever so much as greeted with a handshake. Anything you touched fondly, we will hunt down until it is destroyed. How does that sound?"

The grey-suited man offers only a smile to this, before he continues with his stoney silence. Well except for, "Would be a shame, now wouldn't it? Sweet Captain?" He then moves his hands behind his back, interlacing fingers behind his back. His gaze shifts to Jack again and he issues another look that could kill.

"Very much like a waste of money," Ace replies without missing a beat. "You have two targets you could very easily pick up yourselves, yet you are willing to throw away so much money and effort to ensure that /we/ bring them to you? To begin with, you have a great deal of confidence in us, especially where Urf is concerned. You outnumber our tiny crew by a very large margin, so why not simply go fetch them yourselves?"

Swiftfoot looks from the white suited man, to the gray suited man, to Ace, then back again, still electing to stay silent and let the Kapitan do the talking. Her expression darkens, however, at Mr. White's threat, ears laying back slightly.

"Numbers ain't everythin' was to my thinkin'." Jack says simply, reaching out to pat Swiftfoot's arm. "Meow Mraawl Mew?"

"I see I was right, in part, about the former option as well," Mr. Black comments to his friend in the grey suit. "Yes, we could easily go in and fetch them, but that would attract unwanted attention to us. The way you speak of them... clearly, you know them, so it would be much easier for you to lead them somewhere where we can indeed lay our -- and trust me on this, honey -- gentle hands on them. It's a simple thing, really. In fact, we might even throw a bonus your way. Everyone has a price. You name it."

Grey suit slips his hands out from behind his back, one hand slipping into a pocket for a PDA to check over something. For a moment, it looks like he was going to pass it across to Mr. Black, but at the last moment decides against it. His attention alternates between the three Fauxites and the PDA, and letting Mr. Black do the speaking and nodding in agreement.

This time, it's Ace that chuckles, her head bowed as she shakes it, "Now you are joking, da?" She makes a broad gesture with her hand indicating the array of ships that had accompanied them. "You have already attracted undue attention and word is spreading like wild fire about you and your people. Is a bit too late to be considering keeping a low profile. As to my price?" The laughter fades to a grim stillness. "Am not for sale."

"She's rright, you know," Swiftfoot interjects, then shrugs. "Therre's been rreporrts about yourr people alrready." The felinoid's tail flicks absently, and one ear lays halfway back. "You've obviously got rresourrces that we can't hope to touch, so... why do this? It seems... I don't know, superrfluous."

Jack claps his hands, as if to say, atta girls.

"This? This is nothing," Mr. Black explains, also gesturing to the ships and trucks. "I find our definitions of attention differ, which is understandable. You are arrush, a savage beast of simple intellect. A senseless one at that. It seems I am not getting through to you. Men bound by honor and chivalry that we are, we can let you leave and think about our proposal. Consider this, however: this will be the only time we present this offer. If you refuse, the bounties go back up." He turns to the Demarian. "Our reasons can easily seem illogical to the likes of you, my furry friend; you too are arrush. It is not for you to understand," he concludes, "it is for you to obey. It is your nature. Do not cross us on this. We have forgiven you more than once in the past, but even our mercy has limits." To the man in grey, he inquires, "Anything you wish to add? They seem stubborn."

The grey suit nods to Mr. Black, before stating, "If you wish to inquire of why we're here. Then please do speak with the university, who have contracted us to conduct research into rockrats in their native environment as well as charting the evolution of the species, according to the drift theory and the Darwinian effect. Which I'm surprised that you're not all victims of." He shakes his head, and offers a faint smile once more.

Ace pages Jack and Swiftfoot: I will not play their game, but I will not drag the two of you down with me. If you wish to strike your own deals, I will not hold it against you.

"A savage beast," Ace's smile is cold as her mirrored gaze fixes on Mr. Black, her voice soft yet still clearly audible, "In my day, I have been called far worse than this. But I am not without my own sense of duty and honor, and I will not be bought, and I am no man's puppet. I will not speak for my companions, but I do not need time to consider your offer. It is declined."

Swiftfoot mock-sniffs at Gray Suit. "I'm insulted," she grumps, "Orr I would be if this 'beast' could possibly underrstand what you said, meh?" She snorts and shakes her head. "I feel the same as Ace, though. My loyalties cannot be bought forr such paltry currency as money." She frowns then, one finger tapping thoughtfully at her chin. "I am interrested as to what you meant by forrgiving us in the past, howeverr. To my knowledge, we've neverr met."

"We learned to adapt." Jack says simply. "I on the other hand, can be bought for money, but not this job. Sorry."

Mr. Black sighs. "Pointless. I told them it would be futile to try and reason with the lesser crops," he tells his companion. "Well, that is that." To the Fauxites, his words are direct -- not cold and unfriendly, just lackadaisical. "We choose the paths we walk and, if true to that choice, never regret or look back regardless of what we find at the end of the road. The bounties will go back up. You easily confuse pride with honor. Another common mistake you make. This decision will weigh heavily on your shoulders once the repercussions begin. You may leave now. We will not give pursuit. The next time we meet, however, you will be on your knees, begging for forgiveness and mercy." The Demarian's question is completely ignored. "By this decree to we seal the deal. Begone."

The man in Grey also ignores Swifty, and shakes his head. He raises his hand up to his ear piece and listens for a moment, before slowly nodding. "Certainly are the lesser crops," he remarks to Mr. Black, before sighing. "To think, I wasted perfectly good air trying to reason and conduct a profitable business transaction with these geistesschwache."

Ace sighs softly, "Why is it that when foolish men do not get their way, they claim that their opposition is unreasonable. Put your bounties where they truly belong, Mr. Black, and stop trying to play God with the universe. You are highly unqualified and horribly underdressed for the part."

Swiftfoot stifles a chuckle, covering it with a cough into her paw. After a moment, she looks up, one ear flicking. "Guess I shoulda known betterr than to expect an answerr afterr voicing my rrefusal." A faintly sheepish grin and a shrug then. "And don't worry so much about the airr, by the way. Therre's plenty of it to go arround."

"Maza..." Jack says with another roll of his eyes. "We got it. You two got shoved into lockers in middle school and had your personal consoles stolen an' now you're gettin' back at us all. Get the fuck over it. That was years ago. We were all kids."

"What is this?" Mr. Black asks his companion, apparently confused. His eyes now fall once more on Ace. "You are taking a piss on our kindness? Get the fuck out now or we will kill the three of you and anyone else who is in your ship. I told you there is a limit to the mercy we are extending your way and yet you stand there -- you, a filthy creature unworthy of our time -- and insult us? Do you think you are playing hero? Do you know *where* you are? I do not wish to hear another word out of your mouth. Get on your ship, all of you, and get the hell out of my sight." Another one of those cold smiles. "Now."

"Be gone," Grey says, with a dismissive wave of his hand. "Your stupidity continues to offend." He raises his hand up to rub at the bridge of his nose, and lets it drop to his side. "No one's going to ask any questions about missing heros here... And my men are ready to fire at a moments notice." A pause, then. "The fat lady's almost ready to sing."

Ace simply meets Black's gaze, the corner of her mouth quirking up into the hint of a smile as she nods her farewell, turning to head back to the Faux.

Swiftfoot stays for only a moment or two longer, one eyeridge quirking upward as she looks the suited men over. After a brief shrug, she flicks her ears, smirks, and turns to follow after the Kapitan.

"Leavin' sounds good?" Jack says with a crooked grin. A single step back, looking at the two men, then he turns around to follow the others. The man in the white suit shakes his head. "Pointless," he tells his companion, turning around and heading back the way he originally came from.

"I agree there," Grey remarks to Mr. Black, as he walks alongside of the other man. "Fire or a crash?" Then a moment later. "Don't worry about the finale. Show's cancelled... For now."