Man to Man (Kazaar)

[Jason Russard]

"I raised my daughter to be independant, and she has not disappointed" Jason replied as they negotiated the hallway. "If I fear she will make wrong choices, then that is a failing of mine, not hers. Besides" he added with some satisfaction, "what purpose would you serve if she was tucked up under my wing for the rest of her life?"

They descended a flight of ornately carved stairs to the ground level of the house and continued down another hallway.

"You and I will communicate quite regularly and I expect to hear of anything remotely suspicous, ah, here we are." They stopped outside a heavy rosewood door and Russard opened it for the bounty hunter, allowing him to step into the room ahead of him.

"There can never be a repeat of this past situation, Mr. Kazaar" Jason continued from the doorway while Aurelias prowled around his accommodations. "We are agreed on this point, correct?"

[Aurelias Kazaar]

"Anything bad happens, it'll be t'me not her," Kazaar replied gruffly, as a way t'show how far he'd go t'keep 'The Kid' alive.

He let his eyes wander 'round the room. It was pretty frackin' lavish, helluva lot better than The Dutchman. There was a large had t'be queen-sized bed in th'middle, with a large window looking out over Coruscant. Prolly a full-sized refresher too.

"I ain't gonna let 'The Kid' die on my watch. When I'm done with her...those schutta scum like Timandar are gonna hafta worry 'bout their own hides bein' roasted.

"If ya know what I mean," Kazaar gave Jason the Younger a wolfish smirk.

[Jason Russard]

"Yes. Well." Jason didn't really quite know what to say to that. "Very good then"

The scary thing about having men like Kazaar working for you was that you never quite knew what you were getting in to. However, Estelle was what mattered here, and if anything was certain, it was that Kazaar had her best interest at heart.

"I"ll say goodnight then Mr. Kazaar. We'll talk again soon"

[Old Man Russard]

The old man was at the end of the hallway when his son exited Kazaar's room. The two men swapped candid looks before Jason the Younger turned toward the stairs, back the way he'd come. His father watched him go.

The fool's in way over his head the old man thought grimly. This last turn of events had cemented in his own mind that the Inquisitoriate held much too much sway over his too-trusting son.

Karl Valten was going to be a problem, the old man knew it instinctively.

At least with the new pitbull his son had brought home, and who even now was probably enjoying one of his best Sacorrians, some hope remained. Perhaps his son had finally learnt something from the old man after all.

You play in the big boys' sandbox long enough, you have no choice but to dirty up your hands.