Decades.

It took decades to get here, a full circle of irony that started with the sacking of Rochester and the revelation of the fact that Liberty's underworld was experiencing growing pains. It was no longer a static situation, an endless status quo that could be taken for granted and there were clear signs of cracks beginning to form. It was obviously prominent enough that this meeting was actually taking place, set to the backdrop of scenery that had changed drastically in recent history, perhaps an omen of things to come?

It wasn't as if that mattered, Morreti was not a man for superstition and he'd arrived here on time, suspecting that despite this fact his counterpart was already here and waiting. It would certainly fit his impression of her, and convey a posture of dominance, rooted in the fact that she'd arrived here earlier than he did and had time to survey the surroundings of their venue and take control of the situation.

The walk from the hangar deck to the venue wasn't long, it would only take a short ride in the elevator with nosy strangers eyeing up his flight suit and its displays of allegiance to put him outside the door that was his destination. Small but well furnished spaces like this were reserved for regular visitors of the Freeport to conduct their business in, whatever business that may be. And as such he'd reserved it to be theirs for an hour, presumably long enough to get through whatever was going to be talked about at this juncture. If it seemed like it would take longer, he was more than able to pull a string or two and extend the reservation, albeit at a slight markup in terms of pricing.

Walking through the door in front of him was a point of no return and he was well aware of it. He'd made his mind up the day he was elected, there was no sense in trying to change course now and especially not with everything at stake. Since she was on the other side of that door and already waiting, two things were immediately clear. His attire and the fact that he'd kept his word and left his gun behind, an empty holster on his hip to confirm that fact. He was not as lightly built as perhaps initially expected, a pilot first and foremost but hardened from the years of rigors that this life had put him through.

Before he spoke, he started ridding himself of his gloves as the door closed behind him, it would make getting the helmet off easier considering how it was fastened in place with seals. The few seconds he spent getting his hands free were used to carefully gauge the attitude of the person he was here to meet, eyeing them cautiously from behind that darkened visor. It would only be there for a little while longer, so he may as well get what he could out of it. When he approached the table positioned towards the middle of the room, that was her cue to join him there as he set his gloves down neatly and began undoing the seals of his helmet.

There were formalities to go through and ice in need of breaking, but he wasn't going to do that hidden behind his kit. Her approach would be punctuated by a thematic hiss as the seals surrendered to pressure. It gave his gloves company at the edge of the table as he turned to face his counterpart, silver hair and sharp facial features enunciated by the well-lit nature of the room they were in. Deep blue eyes seemed to regard her with no clear intent before his face somewhat softened to convey politeness and respect. "Signora de Marco." The words came with an outstretched hand, smoother to the ears in person and denoting that business had started.

When she approached and offered her hand to him, it became clear that he was remarkably well groomed despite his profession and the perceived image of his people. His hair was clean and slicked back neatly, his face unblemished, everything about him evoked prestige and yet that was the nature of the system he was fighting against. When it was clear to him what she was implying by the way she offered him her hand, he went along with it. There was something surreal about revisiting that gesture after how many years had gone by since he left his old life behind, along with many of the formalities involved. Once his posture straightened back out after his lips had met her skin. he made sure to maintain eye contact at all times. It didn't seem like he was uncomfortable or intimidated being around her, if anything the grace was something which seemed mutual, though it was likely the source of it in his case was practice rather than an inherent affinity for it. And that was hardly surprising given what he was raised to do.

"Good to hear." He nodded once emphatically, wearing a subtle smile on his face for the moment. Even if there was quite a contrast in their choices of attire, it wasn't as if his suit was poorly made or didn't have some degree of stylishness to it. Colored a calm shade of grey, accented by black and any risk of monotony that this pairing might create was broken up by the bright LFR stars on his shoulders which openly displayed allegiance. The neat collar featured his crest on one side and what looked like a rank insignia on the other, a variety of small ribbons were mounted towards a corner of the chest area, displaying accolades or perhaps involvement in major conflicts.

With those formalities out of the way, he pulled a chair out and waited for her to be seated in it, his manners extending beyond what he was prompted to do. Presumably, he was waited for both of them to sit down before getting to the actual 'meat' of why they were here."Would you like anything to drink?" The fact he asked expressed that there was likely some room service system attached to these meeting halls. She had some time to consider the offer, at least as long as it took for him to slowly walk around the table in order to reach the other chair. If she decided against it, then he would sit down and let the process start.

The mechanical servant noted down her order and then turned to Morreti, obviously intending to note down anything he might want as well due to how it was programmed. "A blue bolt, serve it in a glass and with ice." It was a fairly popular brand of soda, primarily served at bars on Curacao and usually paired with alcohol of some kind, known for its balanced fruity range of flavors. He had obviously skipped pleasantries when it came to the machine, its only response on the matter being a prompt exit to go fetch what they'd asked for, though it would probably take a few minutes considering how restricted its range of motion was.

Once the droid was gone, he turned his attention to her and responded to the query without much hesitation. "I have no objections to your proposed format and how you intend to handle the documentation, so by all means let us proceed." If anything this seemed normal to him, his background certainly ensured that he was bombarded with all manner of contracts, it was the underworld's ad hoc manner of hashing out deals that took some getting used to and not this.

There was no need to rush, hence why he was letting her slowly move through the process of guiding this negotiation, content to do more listening than talking for the moment. His eyes and face gave nothing away, while his posture conveyed grace and confidence. He wasn't leaning against the table, instead keeping his hands on his lap with his legs crossed, and the way he was comfortably leaned back in his seat made his stature seem broader. Whatever her impressions of him might have been, the record was straight now and he was waiting for her to continue.

Perfect silence, only the softest clinking of ice from his glass as he took small sips, it was clear he was giving her his full attention and taking every word seriously. It also seemed like he'd not broken eye contact so far and that might have been an imposing fact to a weaker willed person. "No objections to your first point, I consider it perfectly logical and necessary for the business to function." A short pause ensued after he'd commented on this, the brain behind his eyes racing through a variety of factors and potential problems as he considered the second point. It was only a few seconds of torrential thought patterns before it seemed like the focus of his eyes came back to the room and her.

"Arrangements are being made for your end of line destination in Colorado, it'll have an extension constructed for the exact purpose of easily being able to moor quickly and offload product. Your people will have access to basic station facilities while there, whether that be to make a short rest stop, refuel or avail repairs. All these services will be offered with a nominal fee. At this juncture of business however, we are not prepared to extend these services to any vessels beyond those directly involved in the business. Your raiders will not be permitted to base themselves on our facilities and any warships seen on approach will be turned away. This can be revised in the future if Malta is willing to increase the volume of business we are allowed to handle and put assurances in place." It was a mixture of elaboration on the state of things, the willingness of his side and then the things they were outright unwilling to offer in terms of services. Stortas would not be allowed to line up like a collection of keychains at either the Fort or Ouray, this would simply be too much in the way of hospitality and all at once and that was hardly wise when it came to historical enemies.

When it came to the third point, his answer was preceded by a brisk nod. "I'm aware of the short-term losses this would entail, but it's the long-term gains motivating me to do it. That and the fact that my previous trade partner has hardly been loyal when it came to the terms of the arrangement, a betrayal of trust which I'm sure you can relate to given current circumstances. To conclude, I have no problems with these points save for the clarifications I have made on what the scope will be." And all at once, the smoothness of his tone stopped flowing in her direction and was instead replaced by a stiff silence. He had all the makings of somebody that could serve as a great orator, it was likely people found him genuinely pleasant to listen to when circumstances permitted for politeness.

There was a look of expectance in his eyes, inviting her to pose questions or clarify any doubts before they went further.

Again, he nodded in understanding of the point she was making, not having any disagreements with the logic used, but he did have something to say in return. His overall facial expression having remained pleasant and void of aggression or any other significant indicators, there were however brief glimpses of what seemed like satisfaction and enjoyment. There was every likelihood that he appreciated the fact he was making progress. Whatever the reasons for that response might be, it was open to interpretation given the context of the situation.

When he did finally speak after letting her finish, the smoothness of his tone featured occasional enunciation the highlight the importance of certain pieces of information. There was also the fact that he lingered ever so slightly when directly addressing her in a formal manner, a deliberate pause as if to show he was giving her all due consideration and perhaps more. "Counterproposal on that point. We will not attack your ships making the run to their end of line somewhere in the Badlands. This is where your involvement in Liberty ends after all and the Rogues pay you upon receipt of the Cardamine shipments. We will continue to hijack said cargo from them in the Jersey field, as the only people incurring a loss at that juncture of the business would be the Junkers and the Rogues but not you or your people, signora. We'd ultimately be making sure those shipments of Cardamine reach the intended destination of Manhattan. One way or another. Does this assuage your concerns regarding the optics of our competitive stance against the other groups?"

Knowing fully well the ultimate goal was profit and that the Junkers, Rogues and even his people were considered expendable by Malta, he saw no logical reason why she would take an issue with what he just proposed as a compromise. The flow would remain unaffected, but it gave him the means to compete with the application of force and interdiction rather than just sheer market volumes. Effectively allowing him to even the playing field and rig the game in his favor. All he needed was for her to pronounce affirmation to this small revision, the same way she'd so gracefully laid out everything else.