My men were on patrol and happened to interdict an Order transport with very important cargo on board. Cargo that I am sure is quite precious to you:
Here's the deal: I've heard the stories that you are quite a good fighter pilot. Our extensive training programs ensure that the pilots we produce are some of the best in Sirus, but that can only go so far. It is no solution to the lack of raw innate talent within a pilot. Which is why I wish to recruit you into The Core, my dear.
You will fight for us and strike fear into the hearts of our enemies. Otherwise, I will take away that which you treasure most.
I would mind your tone. My previous position was head of Interrogation. I'd hate for something to happen to the little one. Being as young as she is, I doubt she's been exposed to much pain. Do you remember your first, true cry of agony? I know for sure that she will if you don't keep in line.
I don't think it'd be fair for you to dictate the terms of where your daughter is and isn't kept. I think we could quite easily give her the life she deserves in the Edge Worlds, as a citizen of Omicronis, don't you agree?
You and I know very well that comin' with fairness in those lips of yours now it's just downright stupid. Political speech can all be nice for yer men or yer enemies, but not for me. I see space for what it truly is. Death and darkness. You can pretty it up with colors and shinnin' lights, like you pretty those words comin' out of yer mouth.
But you and I know very well what lies beneath the fluff and nice eyelashes.
*Lights up a cigar*
You want me, you get me. 'Till the end of my days.
Not my kid.
That's the deal.
Reavers don't default on contracts. That's a truth in this 'verse and in the next. So implant one of your boomers in my neck, like yer ol' bosses used to do, get a frickin' Kusari chip on my head, whatever you want. I'm yours 'till the end comes.
My kid ain't.
Ball's in yer park, and you can get the win you want. Play it.
Silver.
[8:32:45 PM] Dusty Lens: Oh no, let me get that. Hello? Oh it's my grandma. She says to be roleplay.
[12:12:00] Traxit: this is smut stop
Who said I was a woman of fairness and politics. Strength is power. It is the right of the strong to dictate and command the lives of the weak. You have shown weakness, and thus put yourself into a disadvantageous position where I hold all the power.
Bombs are far too crude a means of control. You've never struck me as someone who cares about their own life, therefore such measures are meaningless. The human soul has a habit of disregarding itself in favor of others. And that is our bargaining trip. In this exchange, you have shown true weakness by telling me about someone you care deeply for, and I assure you that is going to haunt you for the rest of your life.
I could perhaps send your child to Bretonia with a few bruises here and there. I think it'd be quite easy for your contact to find her in a hospital, perhaps with the story of Hel being involved in an accident. We have to make it convincing after all - it would spoil things otherwise. I think from that point onward, a constant Arcani surveillance would be suitable.
Either that our she's given to a family on Nauru and raised within the system. I would grant you permission to see her once a month. She would be raised into a fine warrior, much like her mother *grins*
I'm glad we came to an agreement. I will arrange for your daughter to transferred to Bretonia in as best health as possible, then ensure I have some eyes out there to keep an eye on her. For both of us.
But before I do that, I would like you to tell me one last thing: who is the father? How much do you care about him? Call me curious.
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