Nar Shaddaa

"Get some sleep, Gunnie. Nothing to shoot for a while." Moyr grinned, then waved the Mandalorian away. The young woman shrugged, nodded, yawned, and left the cockpit without a word. Moyr took a gulp of vine-coffee from her hot mug and put her legs on the panel, crossed. She looked at the flashy hyperspace tunnel lines for a moment with a pout, her lekku twitching, then triggered the commlink. "If you're not doing anything terribly important, Hala, please come over."

The commlink crackled back an affirmative then fell silent, filling the cockpit once more with the dull rumble of the hyperdrive. Little more than thirty seconds passed and the familiar cadence of Colonel Moraal's stinted gate clicked along the deck plating. Hala wore her usual day-to-day officer's fatigues, the code cylinders she was so proud of flanking each side of her chest in their catch pockets. The casual observer wouldn't notice, but those who knew her could see she had not bothered to turn on the micro-emitters concealed within them that projected a tiny holofield around her upper body so a few hairs here and there were not immaculately held in place, her uniform showed a little bit of fuzz from a longer life, and the faint passage of time began to cut itself into tiny lines across her face. None of these appeared when she was in public, but this was no such time.

"You called?" she asked respectfully, her hands settling in the small of her back while one grasped the data pad she had been going over.

"Tout à fait." Moyr responded after a brief glance. "Seal the cockpit if you may." Once it would be done, she would continue, letting her lekku plait over her cleavage. "We'll be on the Smuggler's Moon in two days. Looking forward to what will unfold there?"

Hala nodded her head and stepped across the threshold before turning about and raising her hand to the keypad. She tapped in a few strokes and closed the door. A few more and the maglock clicked into place.

"I am. There is work to be done there and I am anxious to get to it. There is only so much I can do reading reports and passing along intercepts.... I need to be there to get what needs doing done.... And you?" she asked, studying the twilek, captain and Sith, sitting before her in her throne.

"Are you eager?"

Moyr nodded, pushing the throne into a marginal rotation with her heel, then stopping before it would take a spin. "During a party, when is the best wine served? In the beginning, in the middle or at the end?"

"The middle. That way the guests you intend to receive are able to appreciate it rather than those overly eager to ingratiate themselves with you but before any have the risk of losing the ability to appreciate it. So it goes, usually, with a dinner as well. Something eminently palatable but able to keep flowing freely at first, the good wine with the main course, and then something refreshing and light to finish," she answered thoughtfully before adding, "Subject to local custom or specific objective, of course."

Moyr tilted her head as she listened, letting the lekku travel back and wrap around the headrest.

"My answer would be: never. The best wine rests safely in the hidden cellar while the guests are made to believe that the house is catering to their tastes. The best wine you have to claim, to locate and raid the cellar. And that's probably done best when all are drunk, complacent, lulled and drifting, and expecting nothing else of note to happen." The Lethan Sith raised her tattooed brow. "So at this point I am more curious than eager."

Hala lips cracked into a smile.

"Now you speak of salesmanship and logistics, not when one would tell their guests in excited and conspiratorial tones that they have something special to share around. But I take your point."

"I have every intention to not play by the rules, Hala." She mused. "But to do so in a slugpot one cannot be too enthusiastic or optimistic. More like careful. Openings are not something the Hutts grant, and making one's own takes time and effort." A small, corresponding smile crept it, but she turned toward the starlit glass. "Have you ever been to Nar Shaddaa before?"

"No... nor have I dealt so directly with the Hutt before. I did take the liberty of requisitioning some reading material about each though, so I am catching up on cultural idioms and implications," she said with a shrug before bringing the datapad from behind her back. She rotated it slightly to indicate then returned it.

"And your gut feeling suggests what approach toward the Hutts, ahead or aside of this reading?" She pointed her finger at the pad with a bit of accusation.

"Appeal to their greed. Make trade concessions, reduce enforcement in the outer rim near their areas of operation, grant more valuable export licenses, propose a trade commission and allow them to suggest an appointment. Anything of that vein should serve for a positive incentive while demonstrating self interest and slight areas of the deal that they will not care about but that we will not honor. That way they know where to look to confirm their suspicious nature without provoking them.

"And if they require negative reinforcement, they still have concepts of alliances and family. We leverage their friends and their empires as we might any other against them."

"So we come begging here?" Moyr frowned. "While this sounds smart, it does not instill awe and respect either from them or from all others who look. What your model is lacking is strength projection. Targeting what they value is not optional. They need to be aware of what is the alternative. That the finger lingers by the trigger. If for no other reason than to make them look that way, and not the other." Moyr turned the INN broadcast on. As expected, the story of Darth Hoshi's campaign in the Outer Rim was in the headlines. "Do you know why she has been victorious so far?"

"I presume the answer is force. And I have no qualms about bringing crushing force to bear. I am cognizant of the fact that we do not have the resources and manpower to utilize that solution every time. So we make gestures at first, allow them to make the wise decision. And if they do not, we escalate and relieve them of the burden of choosing correctly. This is not a backwater planet with an Imperial garrison and some misguided insurgents. There is no force dedicated to that projection that I can call on directly. If I were to, it would be pulled from somewhere else. From the war. And I view that as wasteful."

The Watcher returned the Sith's gaze, her eyes touched with Flint.

"I am not here to beg, and I am not here to sue for peace. I am here to prevent the Republic from finding allies, to save Imperial lives and cost those of our enemies. We will deal with the rest when necessary and in due time but for now we can use them to our advantage and I am not so proud I cannot act like a sheep while holding shears."

Moyr listened, her lekku crawling slightly, her toes tic-tac-toeing.

"Darth Hoshi has succeeded because she has brought the resources to the Imperial side that were not there before. The promise of making a difference, of emancipation, and suddenly there is an army serving our purposes that hasn't been there. Her victory in the Gorios Nebula would not have been possible without those who flocked to her side because she wove a narrative they wanted. Of freedom and impunity through character and effort. The Outer Rim is getting revolted against the derelict regime. This is our resource. Not what an accountant's analysis tells you."

She locked her gaze with the older woman and didn't let go.

"The leverage is right there. The Hutts may have every reason to be afraid that their insulation from the consequences of the rebellion may end. Their power rely on slavery, submission, acceptance of status quo. Even on the moon. You just need to get deeper than shining spaceports and fancy clubs to see that the base has been rotting for a time. And all it may take is a stronger wind to break the beams."

she tapped the console with her finger.

"Your pride has nothing to do with this. Your resourcefulness, however, is what I would like to see more of."

"Of course my lord. Though I imagine you mean more than soliciting Hutt enforcers to join a more enlightened cause to gain a few soldiers and weaken their position, do you not?" Hala asked, her eyebrow rising with curiosity.

"Violence, and the promise of it, can come from many places. Unexpected ones in those numbers." Moyr smiled wryly. "I guess I have not asked; what do you make of the fact that I have a Mandalorian gunner and a Mandalorian-refurbished ship to pilot?"

"That you possess a connection I was unaware of, an affinity for their culture I was unaware of, or a fetish I was unaware of. Listed in order of perceived likelihood," she replied, amusement underscoring her answer.

"You wish to court their support, then?"

Moyr chuckled at that, her lekku tips curling up. "I already have it to an extent. But I am not yet satisfied by the extent. The loyalty of the Clans of Mandalore could help tip the balance against the Republic. I've seen it for months now, now it's time to make a move. But like with all the moves of that kind, it's better to keep those who could have issue with it busy with their own problems."

Hala pulled the datapad from behind her back again and tapped the screen a few times. She turned it back around to face Moyr and what had once been a cultural profile of the Hutts now stood an analogous profile for the Mandalorians.

"I agree. And I intend to help tell a story that will lead them to choose wisely in that respect as well."

"And how are you going to do that?" Moyr mused, shifting in the chair, to make her tush comfortable rather than any other reason.

"They are gathering to choose a new Mandalore to lead them, are they not? Ideally, one would be selected who agrees with our sensibilities and concerns. Failing that, coming to an understanding with a critical mass of them that we could provide them with materiel support or whatever else they needed, that we would be worthy allies, that the Jedi would be worthy foes, and that there is a place among the Sith Empire for such strength that the Republic would never actually tolerate. Strength that they have within them, that I would like to see made manifest."

"I have friends among the Vizslas, who are close to the Fetts. I have already received an invitation from Corso for a reception he throws soon after our arrival, likely to strengthen his bid. If you read manuals..." No mockery, promise. "...you're more than likely aware how complicated clan politics are, and can get. I am quite sure the Republic will try to sabotage our rapprochement with Corso and his supporters, to defame him or to reinforce his competition. The Hutts enjoy the status quo, this way they can utilise Mandalorians as mercenaries without long-term commitments or consequences and play them against each other, so they won't be our allies on this." She tilted her head, finished her vine-coffee and let her lekku travel as she threw the cup into the bin behind her without looking, scoring flawlessly. "And with this being said, would you refine your argument?"

"We of course need to be aware of SIS interference, but I will coordinate counterintelligence operations as well to keep them at bay. But I am not sure much refinement is required, the core concept holds. It will naturally be altered as the situation unfolds but pursuing openings while keeping positive or neutral relations with the Hutts for the mid-term.... On the matter of the Republic.... I am not aware of Darth Xevious' intentions but whether it is to be a truce or continued war is somewhat immaterial compared to ensuring that he is arguing from a position of strength."

Her lips twitched uncomfortably. Her arms wriggled back and forth a little and her right arm returned from around her back without the datapad. She gently worked her joints in small circled before letting it hang at her side. Slowly, her thumb touched her index finger. Then in order, the middle finger, the ring finger, and the pinky, before working its way back.

"Peace is a lie."

Moyr quipped reflexively.

"It's not your best day, is it, Hala?" Moyr perked her tattooed brow. "You won't keep your mind sharp without impressing on your body it cannot lag behind." She paused, looking at the Imperial without compassion, but with curiousity how much time it would take her to overcome weakness. "Do you have a manual about the Evocii too?"