Log:Terrible Negotiations

Terrible Negotiations

OOC Date: January 18, 2018
Location: Bandit's Castle
Participants: Leia Organa, Ambrosia Greystorm, Adhar Gann, Quentin Haslett, Aola Ziveri, Tamrae, Pash Danigo, Dash Rendar, Array Consortium, The Resistance

In which the Resistance emerges from licking their wounds to visit the first of many outer rim contacts, on a mission to rebuild and resupply...

Medical Bay - MCV Bandit's Castle Bright white walls give this chamber an hospital feel - which is appropriate, as it is a medbay, albeit a small one. A pair of medical beds dominate the fore wall of the room, over which are affixed a number of monitors, serum and gas nozzles, and other paraphenalia. To port, cabinets of medical supplies are stored in space saving, climate-controlled lockers and cabinets. Finally, to aft, there is a pedestal socket for a bacta tank, if one is available, along with a number of medical devices. Some of these are mounted into the wall, while others stand free on their own legs and bases.

---

Princess, Senator, General in political exile - Leia Organa is all of these things, and it is impossible to miss her. She and her company are met at the turbolift of the Consortium's hangar by a pair of sizeable security guards, who then step back in recognition - and awe - as she arrives, and upon being told who she wishes to see...well. They don't question it. Maybe the Captain later, but they don't question /her/. Instead, they turn and lead the General and her group into the belly of a heavily armed frigate whose design was new before the Old Republic died, and is yet as strong and well-maintained as when she were first laid down in the yards. More people follow, gawping technicians and crewmen in blue coveralls, all following in a sort of impromptu honor procession. No way. No /way/. And to see the Captain?

The corvette's medbay is small, but modernly appointed - there are medics here, but only one person mans a bed, and that is Captain Gann. Covered to the naval, the bare-shirted man sports many scars, and whatever's under the wide band of bacta bandages and compression bands that cover his lower torso is not at all bound to be nice. He is sallow, hollow-eyed, and near death...but he carries himself with an energy that should not be there. Either he's an amazing liar, or he's got the spark of the universe in him, keeping him going. Or maybe just a lot of caf.

Currently, Adhar is addressing Quentin, who is being...Quentin. The doctor's demeanor is cheerily met, but his smile does harden a bit around the edges when the man refers to his staff. "Have a care, doctor," he says, "My staff are excellent, but they are not quite the specialist you are, that's all." He nods to the medics, who give their captain a queer look when whe does so. He qualifies this with, 'He's a genius, and he's studied the thing that hurt me. Just do as he says."

The medics quickly busy themselves with unrapping him, as he now turns to Pash. "Times are hard all over, friend," he says to his fellow captain, "But don't let this bother you. I've had worse, and been closer to death before. I'll be up and going inside of a week, you'll see." He coughs to cover a wince of pain as the medics start to cut the bandages off of him after a short check with a medical scanner; as they do, bruised, purple flesh is exposed, a horrible network of wildly curving wounds criss-cross his lower torso. It looks almost as if he'd gotten caught in a length of monofliament wire, only this stuff was being flung around at the front of him. It's a horrible sight, ugly and puckered. He's going to have a lot of scars, bacta or no bacta.

And of course, the guards and crew do not enter - instead, they mass outside, wondering. Waiting. Good lord, what a time those medics are going to have weathering questions tonight!

One person does slip in, mostly becuase she's coming the OPPOSITE direction of the entourage and unaware of it..which would be the young Codru-Ji TAmrae, who is coming back to make sure the captain has not hurt himself. She has also brought in chilena bantha soup, which her former mentor swore by for feelign better. Really, it's better for colds and congestion, but she figures it probably can't hurt! She's loaded it in a thermos, but when she sees Adhar is already talking to Pash and there's a doctor checking him over, she slips to the side, tossing him a brief wave...then blinking as people start filing in and retreats to the other side of Adhar's bed opposite the newcomers, her eyes getting a bit wide as she sees who's leading the group.

It had been a while since Aola had seen the general, she'd been part of the reason the Twi'lek had joined the resistance...and the blue-skinned woman was still a little starstruck even now after she'd moved to the Array to pursue her missing parents. Wrapped in her flight suit, she steps into the medbay after having gotten the update and clears her throat as she addresses Addar. "You just had to try and match my trick, didn't you?" she questions lightly, humor on her face. Of course, she knew full well that wasn't what hurt him, but it still earned the joke. "And then you got nearly sawed in half? How much of your luck did you cash in not to end up a splat on the ground?" Yep, jokes and not looking at the general was easier than the alternative.

Leia Organa arrives... partially undercover. She walks with the hood of a white silk cloak pulled up over her head and her eyes turned down through the streets of Nar Shaddaa. With her is the ever present gleeming gold Protocol Droid shuffling at her side and the imposing visage of Lt. Col. Greystorm on the other. Upon arriving at the Consortium hangar and when met with initial defiance to her entry, the former Princess raises her gaze to settle on one of the young guards with a stare specifically design to back down the most notoriously hard edged politicians on the senate floor.

Whether because they recognize her or she won them over with words of encouragement, Leia and company are led through the belly of the appropriately named Castle towards the waiting group within the Medbay. Upon entering, she looks about those assembled, finally reaching up to slide her hood back off of her head so it might settle upon her shoulders.

"Captain Gann.." She begins softly, "I hope we're not interrupting your recovery with our visit. I assumed that your invitation was open ended and, while I would hate to impede your healing, time is of the essence." Like a graceful dancer, the General motions to her left, "This is Colonel Greystorm, with whom I believe you are familiar."

The others are regarded as well, no single focus here, "Aola..." Crossing over to lay her hand lightly upon the blue twi'leks arm. "It's been so long. How are you?" Around, "AND Doctor Haslett?" Lips pursed, subtle into a grin, "Captain Gann, quite the gathering of professionals you've accumulated."

"People should not toy with that they do not understand. And nobody but I understands these wounds," spaketh Doctor Q, utterly unrepentant for having the bedside manner of a brick wall. The big binder Quentin was carrying was placed down on a nearby table and cracked open, and remarkably, inside was a small container of sorts. A small container carrying the purest blue one could muster. "As you can see, I have cracked the secrets of the crystal and as such the mysteries of..." people! Why were there people barging into the room? "Is this a medbay or a circus?" he asked, leery of all the faces. He cared not whether he remembered them.

A slight look of confusion crosses Pash's face when Adhar addresses him, and he says, "I ain't worried," as if there might actually be a reason for such a thing. "What I mean to say is I have important news." Emphasis on the last two words.

Of course, this is going to have to wait, because it's not long before the med bay becomes too crowded to even hint at such things. So, Pash does and Pash and quiets up, though he does hang by Adhar all the same, making sure to get a good view of whatever gnarly wound is unveiled by the medical staff.

Tamrae and Aola get a nod and wave as they enter, but it's a real shock when Leia walks into the room. He watches the woman carefully, and nods politely when her gaze passes his way.

"So, where is she?" a voice can be heard asking from outside the Med Bay. "Cool. Thanks." It speaks again. Walking in shortly after Leia and her guarddog Amber, is Dash Rendar. The young smuggler stands in the door-way beaming brightly at the back of the princess, hands on his hips. He won't say anything, though. He knows that she's always had the uncanny ability to tell when someone's behind her. Weird, right?"

As good a liar he is about his current condition, everyone's conversation dims as he sees the good General arrive, with Ambrosia. Adhar sits up in his seat even as his horrible wounds are exposed. "Let's move this to another venue." His expression is equal parts shock and awe, but then that hardens into something more grave.

"Get me a hoverchair," he commands the closest medic. "I need my office. Now."

Tamrae looks back to Adhar, hesitating, then nods and sets down her thermos near Adhar's stuff for later. "Yes Captain." she says simply, junior enough to just accept it as she makes for the door out.

Tamrae heads into the Assembly Bay through the Out exit.

The touch has Aola blinking and looking away sheepishly before nodding her head. "I am...alright, General Organa. I located my parents and retrieved them, but my sister is still out there..." Clearing her throat, she shakes her head, a little twitch of her Lekku following. "But there are bigger things going on in the galaxy right now. Bigger things than my problems."

Amber is guard dogging, all right. The Colonel's armed with an assortment of lethal things. There's the special gloves, over which she's nestled just 1 set of metal knuckles to have at the ready. A pistol on hip, blade on thigh, and sword sheathed across her back. There's not a smile to be found on her face. Not for pleasant strangers, not for old faces - here's lookin at you, Aola! Not for the bedridden captain, either. She looks cranky. She looks tired. She looks like death warmed over without a scratch on her. "Don't get up on our account," she advises to Gann, one hand coming up to rest a thumb on holster belt. "We won't be here long."

There's that feeling she gets or maybe Leia just has really good instincts for such things, but she does turn when Dash enters the hatch and stand with hands upon his hips. Adhar's demand for everyone to leave is forestalled with a raise of her hand, "Not yet." She says in the manner of someone who is use to getting what they want without sounding demanding about it. "Dash Rendar..." She greets the young smuggler quietly and steps over to embrace him. "You look good..." Adjusting his jacket with both hands, fixing his lapel like a mother might her son before sending him off to his first day of class.

Seeing the young man, a fresh wave of emotions washes over her and her eyes sparkle a little with the threat of a tear. "I have terrible news..." Her resolve is such that she doesn't actually let that tear shed, "Han..." Moistening her lips when they suddenly go dry. "Han was killed." It's a horrible way to tell someone, but the bandaid has to be torn off in these situations. There is, however, a silver lining and that simple fact brings a small sad smile to her face. "But he got the Falcon back."

There is, however, business to take care of, even if she does so with the heavy weight of the revelation resting on her shoulders. She lays a hand on Dash's arm, "Come find me, we'll have a drink to him and tell old stories about his failings as a man." Teasing, as only Leia ever could, the famous smuggler.

Then turns to regard the gathered with her stately demeanor returned. Like emotions are something with an on/off switch. "I'm very glad to hear you've found your parents, Aola." She says honestly, "And that the Doctors bedside manner hasn't improved." Her eyes are only for Adhar, "But there's something very important we need to discuss..."

"No," said Quentin, very diplomatically all things considered. "You're not going anywhere. Before you dare conduct business, you need to ensure you're not about to up and die from an acute case of silicoid poisoning. Which, incidentally, you are. Lay down and hold still." The good (lol) doctor turned to the medics and pointed at Adhar's limbs. "Restrain him if he tries to move. This will not be a painless experience." From within the binder, seriously this thing was goddamned magical, he withdrew another container, small, with a special salve of his own devising. "You'll notice that your wounds aren't healing. That's because the parasol creature left a metabolic by-product inside you. You should thank the stars I devised a remedy, otherwise I'd be carving parts out of you and replacing them with machinery right now." At this point, he started applying the salve to the worst of Adhar's wounds. It wasn't a comfortable feeling. In fact, it downright burned.

"All right," says Adhar, who is apparently not in the habit of arguing with the woman, either. He settles back in his bed, a trickle of blood seeping out from one of the sealed wounds that's swiftly swabbed and plugged by the attending medic. Adhar nods distractedly to Quentin, keeping his eyes on Leia but gesturing for his medic to take the salve and start applying.

"You have my deepest condolences, General," he says, sighing with a faint wince. "I hope I didn't give you bad information when last we spoke." There's something going to need some explanation at some point. "But I have a feeling I know what you're going to tell me." He looks between Leia and Ambrosia, to whom he gives a slight nod as well, but does not attempt to distract her. "I am at your disposal, General. After all, it's not as if secrecy is something we could conjure anyway, now."

A blink, a frown, Aola looks away biting her lip. Here she was commenting on her family while the General's own had been torn apart that little bit more. If anything, Aola felt a little more ashamed. Still, she nods her head at Amber in greeting and crosses her arms under her bust in the silent self-hugging position, letting the others speak.

That news hits Dash like a bomb, and the young man can scarce believe it. There's no tears shed, but Leia knows that they're just being saved for later. He allows her to be all matronly and fix his jacket. It probably needed it, anyway. He releases a breathy, quiet chuckle and nods to her, "If we started talking about his failings, we'd never get out of there." He sniffs sharply and takes her hand, giving it a soft kiss before letting it fall back down. "I was just about to head out when I heard you were here. I, uh, /do/ need to go, though. We'll get those drinks, but you gotta pay...because I'm broke." She already knew that. He's more like Han than he'd care to admit. "I'll see you around, Leia," he adds, turning to make his escape.

"I'm very glad you said that, Captain Gann." Leia keeps her position beside Amber and the Golden Droid with her hands clasped infront of her, "Because you have something we are in need of and since you've been so forthcoming in the past, I am very glad to hear that you wish to continue your support." Her tone is polite, but pointed. "We need ships. How many can you spare?"

It's true, the Resistance had lost much. Husbands, sons, and brothers... loved ones torn down in their prime or younger. Too look at the General now it would be impossible to see any loss at all. For all she seems to bleed supreme confidence and control. That is, until Dash takes her hand.

She turns to him again and squeezes his hand, knowing well that he'll have tears a plenty to shed once he's alone with his ship. "I would be happy to pay for those drinks.." A half grin as he makes his way out of the medbay, "Do find me soon, Dash. I mean that." She watches him go, then turns back to the gathered with her expression neutral. "We've all lost someone." That is for Amber whether anyone knows it or not, "We push on. Because the galaxy needs us to. Because the alternative is falling apart in the face of unwavering threat." If anything, having seen Dash has strengthened her resolve.

Quentin Haslett continued to tend to Adhar's wounds, directing the medics to apply salve to the worst of them. The stuff smelled bad. And when applied, it BURNED, but that was nothing compared to the pain he was already in, right? ...Right?

"You need ships..." Adhar lifts his brows. "You're asking me to - wait. Begging your pardon, General, but you have the only other fleet in the Republic, thanks to the bloody Senate." He looks between Leia and Ambrosia for a long moment, and sighs. "Ah. How many survivors, General?"

Ambrosia, meanwhile, is watching that Dash kid /very/ closely as he takes hold of Leia's hand. Leia seems more than comfortable with it, though, so....okay. Hackles down, girl, down. "Now said galaxy knows we weren't full of shit," she snaps lowly under breath, /just/ loudly enough to hear. "Now that all the blind've had their eyes opened, we can push on more effectively. You have a choice, Adhar. Assist, or be an impediment." And these two old broads are the sort who know precisely what to do with impediments. "Doesn't matter how many survivors. There's enough of us to be a festering pain in the ass more'n we ever were." Her voice is thick, gravelly, the counter balance to Leia's liquid calm.

"Without mincing words, the situation is dire." The General indicates without flinching, but she nods with Ambrosia's assessment, "We are at a crossroads, Captain. The galaxy sits at the auspice of all out war that it cannot hope to win divided." She fixes him there with that calm stare, "We need ships, you have them. We're here to see where your resolve to combat this looming threat resides. If you insist on stopping mearly at words, I can understand the precarious position this places you in, but I have to warn you that I have the utmost faith that we will rebuild. The remaining members of the Resistance may be fewer than they were a week ago, but they are proven and battle hardened. What we do not need is yet another obstacle.. What we need, right now, is your friendship and your support. Be our a friend. I ask again, how many ships can we expect?"

There was something about Ambrosia Greystorm that made Quentin regret the chance he had to put a bomb on her spine many years ago. Ah, the past was the past. But still, there was something Q needed to do and it was important. "Excuse me. My patient here is in considerable physical distress," he said to the assembled crowd of Resistance folk. He remembered Greystorm, but only knew of Leia by name. He'd never actually seen nor met the woman and thus cared nothing, and that showed in his ruffled indignation. "And I find it hard to believe he would be amenable to anything when you have caught him at a weak moment." Was he sticking up for the man? Shock horror! "So please, depart, and allow me to work. A dead man give you nothing and pay me nothing." Ah, it was selfish. Of course.

Having seen the ships they used to have, her beloved X-Wing she'd left behind, the fact that so much was gone was almost as heart-breaking as the loss of life. Remaining silent, she watches the exchange and tries very pointedly not to think of all the faces of former wingmates and other Resistance members she might never see again. Quentin's sudden outburst? It has Aola's lekku twitching with iritation, but she doesn't quite have the will right in this moment to chastise the man.

"Well, first of all," says Adhar, who suddenly begins sucking in air for a moment as Quentin's damned salve begins to burn a hole in his flesh - but does not scream, because he has a very strong will for a smuggler. Adhar closes his eyes, collecting himself - focusing on that horrible, burning paid, squishing it down into a point, a point that he can push into the back of his mind. He draws a breath, deep and meditative, and then continues.

"First of all," he says, "You will forgive me, General, but I don't own all of the ships you see in the bay - each Captain is their own island. We aren't a military, and I don't rule over people. Nor can I spare ships at the moment, because I am in a war myself - and though the stakes are incredibly petty in comparison to yours, they are still needed. So, you will not be leaving with any of my ships today. However." He lifts a finger, coughing again as the pain in his guts tries to burn out all the neurons in the surrounding tissue. "However."

Again he collects himself, and continues. "I will tell you what I will do. I am currently locked in combat with a far more better-funded and better-equipped organization. I will..." He pauses, looking at Quentin with a tight smile. "Can we replicate the spice, Doctor? Is that what you were telling me earlier? And please don't try and run people off of my ship, it's impolite."

Ambrosia passes a half-lidded glance sideways to the General, then shifts her feet into parade rest, settling in for the long haul. Her lips turn up into a mirthless smile back at the disgruntled doctor. One side of the mouth turns up notably more than the other. Maybe she's suffered a stroke since they last parted ways.

Leia is not new to curt dismissals, nor is she moved by them. It helps that Adhar rose to their defense, but it was wholly unnecessary, since she had absolutely no problem ignoring the instruction to leave without it. "Adhar Gann." The General begins with pursed lips, "I have followed your advancement in the underworld with as much attention as I was able to spare and I know that you are a shrewd businessman. I did not come here to cripple your gathering of Captains against whatever threat you face, but I assure you that if the Resistance loses theirs, it will be a shallow drop in a pool to what follows."

She looks to Aola, then back to Adhar and shakes her head, "I came here with the full belief that I could count on our friend Captain Gann in the Resistances time of need. That he would not stop his resolve merely at words spoken and instead prove them with action taken... I'll admit that I would be quite disappointed if I had so misjudged your character. It would be difficult for me to, in good conscience, continue our business arrangements."

She doesn't shrink, there is no more shrink left in the older freedom fighter and Princess, "I could regal you with a host of individuals who put their personal quarrel aside for the sake of doing what's right... instead of just what's right for them..." Her head bows a little, "But you suggested there was a means you might have to assist us and I would like to hear it."

"Of course. In fact, the second batch was finalized twenty minutes before I came here. Perfect samples, identical to the original." The guy who is paying is dying and Quentin is playing with a (very big) chemistry set. Priorities. "Everything you need is in the binder. We can discuss my fee when you are healed," and with that, he shot a glance to the assembled Resistance team. A glance of 'See, you wait until they're alive before you discuss important things, peasants'. He gave the Senator/Princess/whatever-she-was-calling-herself-these-days a look up and down, noted a couple of things, and turned back to his patient, now covered in burning yet magically healing space salve stuff. With no regard for politeness, people in the room, or any sort of decorum whatsoever, Q said, "I would advise ignoring her. She's obviously suffering from hypoxia, possibly brain injury as a result."

Adhar sits up a little more. "I am more than aware of what is happening in the galaxy, General," he says, keeping his voice as cordial as he can through the pain. "More so than either you or Ambrosia seem to think. You know very well what I've done for the Resistance in the last six months, regardless of how far a length that Ambrosia tends to keep me, and you personally know just a liiiiiitle bit of what I've suffered in the process." Tiny pinch of the fingers, there. "So let's stop whatever...this is. I am not the Senate. You don't have to play these games with me, and you know it. Now, as I was /attempting/ to say, before I was suddenly guilted upon, part of the reason I am engaged in said war is so that I can expand my territory - partially so that I can provide additional resources to you and yours. At the risk of my crew, and my life, and my sanity. Because, as you know, dark wizards seem to show up waving plasma swords and threatening my life at any moment." He takes another deep breath, trying hard to keep the pain down. Little point, little pebble, compress...ignore...gone.

His eyes open again. "So here is the deal. I have destroyed the capability of a major Outer Rim drug syndicate - and slaver syndicate - so that I can take over a good deal of its operations. Are you aware of a spice called Denati Blue? Very popular, very expensive euphoric? Totally nonaddictive, with no side effects worse than a drunken night on the town? Gone. Doesn't exist anymore. Not in its natural state. But now..." He gestures to Quentin. "Now I can create it synthetically. No slaves, no mining, nothing like that. And with that, we own the syndiacate - or, really, a good part of it. You can imagine what those profits will do for the Resistance, I'm sure. As well as the ships we will get from it. Even doing a /terrible/ job of negotiation, you'd likely gain a small flotilla."

He looks between the two women again, still very calm, still very controlled. The pain keeps him from losing his temper with the teeth that gnash at his guts. "And there are still more operations that can be undertaken. But this will take time. Not much, but some. And, in the meantime, I will assist you in whatever /other/ way that I can."

Ambrosia takes a half step forward, eyes only for the mouthy doctor while the Leia-Adhar negotiations continue. "Anything the General, or any of our troops have suffered has been for the benefit of you and yours, to keep the darkness off your backs. Your 'suns' in tact. You're quite welcome," she murmurs. The talk about drugs is enough to perk her ear a /little/ in the other direction. "If you cannot grant us this favor, at this time, then so be it. You aren't our only supplier - do you recall my husband?" She turns her head, fingers drumming lightly on hips. There IS one finger missing - the left index. In its place is an empty socket, metallic edge protruding sharply from between layers of syntheflesh. "Just thought you might be the man with the wings. Kort's got guns a'plenty."

Clearly, because 3 kids by that one.

Turning, she gently taps leia's arm with a couple fingers. "Maybe it's best we let him take the doc's advice and concentrate on healing. He'll be more interesting when he's got reins on the druggy fleet."

Leia fixes Adhar with her gaze and smirks, "Oh what tangled webs we weave." A glance to Amber, hand on her companion's arm, then back to the Captain. "You wanted something from me and I offered it. Information about the wizards, which I willfully agreed to provide so that you could continue to protect whomever it is you are protecting from whatever it is you think you're protecting them from."

She reaches for her hood, "I cannot abide your synthesis of drugs for any means. Contrary to popular opinion, I am not a fenatic who will risk everything only to become what I so desperately fought. Your belief that creating a drug that has no addictive properties exclusively provided by you isn't, itself, addiction will not be the catalyst for any alliance between us." The hood slides up over her head, "We are not friends, Captain Gann, I came here hoping to change that." She motions then to Amber, "But as she has said we have lost more people in this week fighting for your freedom than you will lose fighting for a drug monopoly entirely." She motions as she turns, "By all means, continue to press your organization into greater depths of depravity. I hope they are lucrative for you and that when the fog of war clears, you still appreciate the man you think yourself to be."

She turns then, "May the Force be with you, Captain."

"I disagree," Doctor Q said politely to Amber, but deigned to explain further. A mystery for another day. Something that the hypoxic woman had said had caused Quentin to turn and look at her with a strange combination of indignance and disappointment. A sort of 'bless her heart' look. No words were said to her. He just stared like the old creepy doctor he is. What a dick.

"Oh, I see." Adhar arches his brows. "Well, then if you won't take that, I can loan you three Preybirds and see about getting you more." The Captain shrugs. "But let's not judge too harshly, General, especially before you know anythig else. I'm not some spice lord ready to step into the breach and be as brutal as the one before me - there are /other plans/, as I said. So let us not assume we know our company so well as we seem to think. Now, if you will wait, sit down, and talk to me, instead of coming in, making thinly-veiled 'demands' and then turning away when you've decided you know what the nature of the business is, I would appreciate it. I believe that's what friends - or people who want to be frends - do."

Amber he currently ignores. He's only got enough energy for one demanding woman right now, venerated or not. Thank Fortune that Mara's not in there or his head would probably explode.

Leia's grin is impossible to see with her back turned and it's gone by the time she turns back to Adhar, replaced with a slight frown on her still youthful face despite her age. ".. perhaps I have let my losses effect me too deeply and let those guide my hand here." She agrees with a drawn out sigh and a glance to Amber as she returns to the Medbay properly and stands a bit closer than before. Threepio beside her 'blinks' his big yellow eyes. Obviously this is a programmed sort of light show, but it's long ingrained in him, but he returns to her side without fuss. He knows better than to attempt to talk over the General, by now.

"Also for my heavy handed approach to these negotiations. I did not realize with whom I was discussing terms and that was obviously my mistake." She resumes her stance with hands clasped in front of her, "Obviously we graciously accept your offer to lend us the preybirds."

"A 'loan' implies he means to get it back," Ambrosia muses with a head nod aside to the shorter but far more formidable woman in this room while they've still got their backs to their host. "Certainly not in one piece, I'd expect." Given the recent track record. A sudden and shameless smile twitches that other side of her mouth. Diplomat she is not. Echoing Leia's sigh, the Colonel pivots on heel and follows after 3PO's shuffle. "But if he wouldn't mind a few scratches..."

Negotiations. The doctor had no stomach for them. The best way to deal with them was to tune them out After they had turned away and Quentin had finished with his Look, he returned to his patient. He shuffled about, continuing to tend to Adhar's wounds. "You are fortunate that I arrived when I did. Some of the silicoid elements had reached your bloodstream. You will be in pain tonight, but you will live. Any longer, and they would be in your brain."

Cue Adhar rolling his eyes, clearly knowing as well as she what this song and dance is about. He shakes his head, wincing.

"Yes, yes, you got what you wanted out of me," Adhar says, shaking his head. "And you knew I'd give you something when you came in here, General. I'm not stupid, and you know it. Now sit down, woman, and let's talk about what I'm trying to cook up here. Suns below. I'm barely able to keep it together what with being nearly gutted and whatnot last night. No shavit, huh?"

Then he takes a moment to look at Quentin. "Doctor," he says. "Thank you. Very much. I appreciate everything you've done. Can you please excuse us? I'll want to talk to you tomorrow about what more we can do with the chemical now that we can synthesize it."

"I'm not sure why you didn't just play along, then." Leia opens her hands and shrugs, "But if you insist on playing hard to get, I have to assure you we're pressed for time. That much was not an exageration." Another glance spared at Amber, then back to Adhar, "Perhaps when you've had a chance to completely heal we can sit down to discuss your plans in detail. Though I doubt seriously I will change my opinion on the distribution of drugs, I'm absolutely certain you'll have a relatively equitable reason for it."

Threepio, however, seems to have heard something that he disapproves of, "I would thank the Captain not to speak to General Organa in such familiar tones. It is quite rude." The small outburst warrents a hand laid on the golden droids shoulder to settle him down. "She has done entirely too much to be treated in such a manner."

"Not drugs," says Adhar, chuckling. "Well, not recreational ones. But pharmaceuticals." Since the lady must go, he chooses to smirk and scoff. "Hard to get. Listen to her, Quentin. Right, tell me where to send them. I'll have Aola send each one quietly to your location - you can trust her, as you know. And when I /am/ healed, General, we will have a discussion on many things. Including the total lack of need where these games are concerned. Besides, I'm sure I might have other things you can use as well."

That said, he coughs, squinting against the pain again. "I did say I'd help pick up the pieces. To both of you. And I will. Now, take care."

Cue Amber checking her chronometer. Here's hoping the fly boys'n'girls are having a more lucrative adventure. She idly scratches at a brow and clears her throat with a glance at the droid. "How very magnanimous of you," she drawls, head tipping forward in a very courtly nod, posture erect. Once upon a time, she did excel at appeasing the Imperial Navy's upper crust. Even if her exhibition of such manners are nowadays inappropriately wielded and decisively off cue. But who knew she could speak in four-syllable words!? "Aola will know where to fly them. General, if you'll remind me to manually override the defense system when she's on approach..."

Q gave a look of 'I highly disagree but whatever' to the Captain as he straightened up. "Under ordinary circumstances my word would be god here, but as you are the captain, and I am an outsider, that point is moot. Very well." And he shot another look at Leia Organa, a look of 'There's only enough room on this planet for one to be in charge'. He turned on his heel, wiping his hands on a towel, and had almost made it to the door before saying, "Oh yes, stress aggravates the growth of the silicoid elements. Experience too much and they can overpower the salve. Do be careful." And like that, he was gone. Truth? A lie in breach of his medical license? Did he even have one of those?!

The binder was left on the table, ready to be perused. All hail the binder!

Leia nods to Amber's suggestion and request, "Soon as return to base, we'll add her to the security profile. She should still be on file." Her gaze resettles on Quentin as he departs, but only long enough to meet his gaze and switch it over to Adhar, "I'm sure we'll have endless things to discuss. With or without games, which may or may not have been necessary." She dips her head and turns once more, pulling the droid in tow, "May the force grant you a speedy recovery, Captain. We'll be intouch soon."

"I deserve better than that from you, Ambrosia," says Adhar in his still mostly-pleasant tone, keeping his eyes on Leia. "Considering how much I've freely given to you, and how much you've demanded I be paid for when I said it wasn't necessary. So pretty please, with sweetdust on top, cut that shavit out."

"I'll speak to you soon, General. Be well, and may the Force be with you."

And that's the first time he's ever said that, it strikes him. To anyone.

"My own sons don't get half the courtesy," Ambrosia announces while making her exit. Her voice is on the strained side now, lip twisted into a snarl at the door and any who might be unfortunate to still be between herself and it. Those gloved fists are tautly clenched, just a tiny squeeze more away from radiating the electricity presently afire within. "And they deserved better. Be seein' you." *March*March*March*....with strides mindfully in check with Leia's own. The droid can double time it, for all she cares.