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Xanatos du Crion is cold.
Leaning back in his chair across from Jaster and Myles, du Crion smirks slightly and crosses one leg artfully over the other, tight embroidered pants barely wrinkling at the movement and black boots shining in the light streaming in through one window. Jaster keeps himself from moving through force of will alone, as du Crion lets a goblet of wine dangle from his fingers where he has his arm draped over the back of his chair.
Everything about him, from his silk shirt open halfway down his chest, to his hair carefully styled, speaks of intention.
du Crion went into this meeting with a goal, and Jaster is no longer sure he knows what du Crion really wants. Which, he quietly supposes, is exactly the point. Putting your opponent on their back foot gets you through more doors than one would normally expect, as Jaster knows. He can't help smiling under the safety of his buy'ce at that.
Blue eyes crinkle in amusement, and even that is cold, the cold calculation of a businessman hidden behind a placid and pretty mask. The one thing that sets the whole act off-kilter is the odd half moon mark beneath one eye. Jaster can't keep his eyes from straying to that mark, set so perfectly in an otherwise unmarred face he would assume it was fake, if not for the way it shifts with du Crion's cheek when he speaks.
"I really don't understand the hesitance, gentlemen." du Crion drawls, motioning lazily to the 'pads set on the low table before them. "If it's something in the terms, I'm sure we can come to a mutually beneficial agreement."
Jaster lets the silence settle for a moment too long to be comfortable, ignoring the way Myles is staring at him, and shifts back to mirror du Crion's lazy sprawl.
"I'm simply confused as to why you would offer such a contract to us at all, First Citizen du Crion." Jaster says. It was the truth, after all. He was confused. The First Citizen of Telos IV, he had come to realize, was enormously wealthy and influential. He could have contracted anyone for a simple protection detail. It would have been easier -- and cheaper -- for du Crion to have used his own security forces in Offworld instead of reaching out to Jaster with an offer.
du Crion hums, and takes a sip of his wine. He swirls it around in his glass, staring into it like it holds all the answers of the universe before laughing quietly to himself.
The noise raises the hairs on the back of Jaster's neck, and from the way Myles tenses beside him, he knows his friend has the same reservations about accepting this contract.
"To meet your honesty with honesty, Mereel," du Crion starts, still staring into his glass, "this is the easiest way to get what I want."
"And that is?" Myles prompts, when du Crion doesn't continue.
du Crion slides his gaze up from his glass to meet the visor of Jaster's buy'ce. "I'm sure you've done your research before coming here. So you would know that I was abandoned to the tender mercies of my father's cabinet after his murder. If it were not for my cousin... well, I think we all know how unpleasant my life would have become then."
Jaster dips his head in silent agreement.
The murder of du Crion's father had left a power vacuum in an already unstable system, and the actions of Offworld's cabinet in the months after certainly left a sour taste in Jaster's mouth even thinking about the reports. It steadied after a few years of work by du Crion and his bastard cousin, and the two were beloved by the Telosian government for their efforts in clearing out corruption. Xanatos du Crion had accepted the position of First Citizen two years ago. Ren du Crion, he so named by the First Citizen, had disappeared.
"Putting it bluntly, I have reason to suspect that several of my cabinet are finally done with allowing me to continue as I am. After all, I've done much to throttle their control. They are not very happy with me right now. And with Ren on his travels..." du Crion trailed off, shrugging his shoulders.
And Jaster could very easily see what he was saying.
The older, protective relative out of the picture, and the beloved heir surrounded by old enemies who likely had supported his father and his ideals. It would be extremely easy to make Xanatos into a martyr to push their own agenda forward.
"If that is true, then why us? There are other mercenaries who could do this for you just as effectively." Jaster says.
du Crion rolls his eyes. "If I had wanted any mercenary group that could be swayed by money, I would have thrown myself over the balcony to save my cabinet the trouble, Mereel. I asked you."
Rather than unpack all of that, Jaster nods, "Alright. But are you quite sure about the payment? We have a standard contract if you wish to see it."
Uncaring, du Crion shrugs, "Why, do you want more? Easily done."
Myles coughs quietly beside him, and Jaster blinks at du Crion in shock.
"No," he says, slowly, brain still churning over the thought that what du Crion wanted to pay them originally -- four times their standard rate -- wasn't enough, "That's quiet alright. What you have in the contract is enough."
du Crion takes another sip of wine and purrs, "Are you sure, Mand'alor?"
Amusement swells at the look du Crion gives him, heated as he licks his lips free of wine. For all his icy calculation and composure, Jaster can still see how young the man is, even if he does a very good job of hiding it.
"I'm sure, First Citizen."
One carefully sculpted eyebrow ticks up mockingly, "Not even for the location of Arla Fett?"
The breath freezes in Jaster's chest. Myles lets out a bark of disbelieving laughter that dies at the look on du Crion's face. Confident, so sure of himself that it can't be anything but the truth.
"What?"
du Crion chuckles again, that low laughter that sets all the hairs on Jaster's body prickling in unease, "I didn't just ask you here for a protection detail, even if it was a convenient excuse."
Dark blue eyes meet his, hidden under his visor.
"Is it so wrong, to wish to form a different sort of relationship together, Jaster Mereel?"