The Ghosts are known for being poor diplomats and negotiators, preferring to resort to empty threats and insults rather than parley civilly; there is no exception to this, as it seems. So much was expected, Tiberio felt something approaching pity for them; they couldn't control their home planet, they couldn't even defeat the Lance. In Tiberio's view, their former glory has been reduced to a single station in a dead system and a bruised ego - not worthy of the Archon's time.
"How can you expect us to cooperate with you when you continue to insult and disrespect us? You call us weak, yet you demand our cooperation and the technology we have struggled for years to develop. We have forged a nigh perfect world for ourselves in the Omegas, we have prospered for years. We did so completely alone much in contrast to yourselves who had the backing of an entire nation for years before being usurped by a petty cartel family. You neither understand nor care for our goals and our future, for which the feeling is mutual; you only want our manpower and technology to accelerate your own. Furthermore you think my Archon is unworthy of leading the Reapers for not playing your game, such is the sentiment of a wanting child - he does not need your approval and neither do the rest of the Reapers. We don't need you, nor do we want you.
The voice to her side, apparently allowing itself to speak without ever been addressed, takes on the Archons task indicating the Reapers leading figure does indeed need another person to cover the actions he is not apt to perform concluding an unconfident state of mind where he allows soldiers of his pushing to have him act as a shadow of his own existance.
With an openly shown repulse towards how the events take place, Estefania is not covering her despite in any way as she turns to Rossi.
Once the Archons pet found its place and the one himself found his courage, you'll find me beating the frakk out of that cretan whore that runs the stations bar. Call me then.
With this, Estefania reaches for her helmet and leaves the conference room in a swift move, heading for the Freeports bar. The short time spent with the Reapers, enduring their blind arrogance for what they believe ensures their survival to this day, them ignoring ambient coherences that had Reapers to overcome all previous performances put up against them, did not have the stressed mood she arrived with descend to a sustainable steady level.
The woman's dramatic exit, reminiscent of a spoiled child, compelled Tiberio to smirk in derision that such a woman was actually entrusted with the 101st. He glanced over to the Archon with an endearing expression before turning towards the remaining Ghost delegate.
"With a woman like that leading you, I see why you were unable to win the civil war, Rossi; she can barely handle a conversation. Once your master has been liberated of her premenstrual rage, inform her that I need not her addressing to speak."
As Casta stormed out of the room, Rossi remained cold blooded and it seemed like he had no objections with her leaving. As Tiberio spoke to him, Rossi leaned on the chair and crossed his hands, waiting for him to finish.
"I know what it looks like, it is like that too. I kind of like it that she left, now we can discuss matters in a civil manner. Even though I agree what Casta said, it could have been said in a more appropriate way, without raising the tension even more."
"It is indeed early to speak about technology and knowledge sharing, but you asked what do we want so I replied to your question. That would be the long term goal if our cooperation was ever to take place. We can also provide you with manpower here in the Omegas, as myself and a few other Ghosts have moved here. At least, we have a couple of common enemies."
Rossi took a deep breath and lit a cigar.
"You will also be provided a safe heaven should you ever happen to come across the upper Omicrons. However, as Lanciers aren't aware of this meeting, it is highly recommended that, if it ever comes to it, you remain unnoticed by everyone but Ghosts while flying through Maltese territory. After all, we cannot guarantee that others will not go insane when seeing a Reaper flying through Maltese space."
"Correct me if I'm wrong, but I don't see what both of our groups can lose from a possible cooperation. We both have technology, we both have knowledge, imagine if we combined them. The power is knocking at your doors, will you open them and let it in, or will you continue your lives thinking what could have happened if you chose to open the doors?"
Business was good tonight and the bar was almost dry, the IMG miners drank their weight in beer and paid just as well. The young Cretan bartender with the 'fonias' tattoo had only a moment of peace before his jovial patrons would require another round; a good time to grab another crate of malt. He was exhausted, it was nearing the end of the solar rotation and he had manned the bar since noon. Luckily for the young man the Boss had noticed the dark rings forming around his bloodshot eyes. The Boss was a middle-aged man that spoke in a scouse accent from Leeds of all places, a well-disposed fellow despite his less than saintly past.
"Scorpius, you've done your fill today, take your tips, get some sleep, and take the night shift tomorrow."It took a moment for Scorpius to process the Boss' generosity, sleep deprivation does wonders to the brain,"Uh, yeah, I'll do that, thanks boss"he muttered. The Boss chuckled before retorting with his bellow of a voice"I should be thanking you, mate, the lads love you - who'd have thought too, right? Yer making me an' the bar stack of cash, ye' bloody cannibal". Cannibal, Scorpius thought, the Boss had managed to make it warp its meaning into one of endearment and friendship.
He laughed with the Boss before parting with a final utterance"Right you are. Oh by the way, keep your piece near you and call some guards down, the lads having a meeting down there are likely to cause some disturbance".From down the hall Scorpius and the Boss heard Tiberio's voice scolding one of the attendees, resonating through the walls. Bar fights are common, usually between petty drunks and criminals, not so much of special forces and an obscure borderworlds warband. The Boss smirked,"Might just have to do that, spent too much money fixin' up this damn place"; and with this Scorpius began walking home, past the bazaars, past the casinos, and out of the promenade. Once he got back to his apartment he fell to his bed and counted his tips"500, 1000, 5000, 10000...God damn...".He struggled to get back up again, dragging himself to his desk to deposit the credit chip, in doing doing so he noticed the tattoo on his neck in the mirror had started to fade, much to his chagrin "Drek, gotta get another touchup on that".
Once more he fell back to his bed, dwelling not upon the money he made nor his fading tattoo, not the Maltese woman, but on the man he saw earlier today - the man who spoke his tongues, knew his sigil, his face - he was familiar. He wondered whether he would see him again, where he had seen him before; and so he closed his eyes and hoped that he would receive cross paths with the man again.
Tiberio ponderously mulled over what Rossi had said, at face value his argument was cogent and well proposed. Yet still the prospect of forging a pact with the 101st in any capacity turned his stomach, compounding this was the poor behaviour exhibited by Rossi's superior only a couple of minutes ago, who commands the entirety of the 101st.
"We have prided ourselves on our technological prowess and ability endure anything, alone. There is nothing in terms of technology or manpower that the 101st has to offer us whether it be now or later in the future; not to mention our vastly different goals and purposes. The 101st along with your estranged compatriots in the Lance are known advocates of piracy, crime, and violence in the sector; things we seek to prevent and eliminate. Furthermore, agreements require mutual trust, understanding, and respect, we do not trust you nor do we respect what you do and we are more than aware of your opinions about us. We have no desire to aid the 101st with their power struggle, nor do we wish to become involved in Maltese politics. These are the views of my master and the Reapers as a whole."
With his tangent complete, Tiberio eased up and awaited Rossi's retort. His impatience, however, was growing.