"I figured that you'd want to know." The Chiss shrugged, a look of disinterest worn across his cerulean face.

The Consul of Taldryan tapped his fingers on his desk, eyeing the mercenary. The Chiss' word had been good before, his intel reliable and worth the credits he paid him. But this was too good to be true. Duga stood, his mind racing.

"And you say a few small fighters would get past the Itanna Belt defenses at this point?" Duga raised an eyebrow. Tarentum had, thus far remained mostly neutral, and that bothered him. Neutrality in these sort of conflicts belied a more cruel cunning than he wanted to admit. Tarentum was certainly biding their time, waiting for everyone else to weaken to the point where they would fall, leaving a clear route of ascendance for the Tarentae.

Duga snarled before he could restrain it, the Chiss startling, his hand drifting to his blaster. The consul tried not to laugh.

"Ten thousand sounds about appropriate, no?"

The Chiss relaxed slightly, his crimson eyes never drifting from Duga's cold blues. "So long as I can refuel."

As usual, the rest on the GJW6 site.