It's unfortunate for Dustin, but his defenses are off. Dustin's loyalty is to Duality, he is as patriotic as one can get. He caught his voice and body language, but his mind is still a sea of turmoil. For them to even think that Duality would send a monster like Voln to kill their own people? Not even traitors would get that treatment.
His thoughts race on about his people, fighting the Hand. Maybe even Voln at the front, going apeshit and mowing down their meager defenses. The Enthilore Foundations's token support. Both the Foundation and the Hand taking Duality tech for themselves, and in his eyes the foundation was just as guilty.
Cyril seems to be trying to gauge the conversation occurring between the various individuals in the group and Cailyl- but he seems disinterested. Its hard to determine if he merely ignorant of what is at stake or that he was only trained to intellectually care about certain pertinent information directly relating to missionsl- the later of which would make sense for someone in Cyril's occupation amongst SHARD.
When he address Cailyl, his tone seems urgent but respectful
"My apologies for this interjection, madame."
"But it seems you have very little use for individuals such as Mr. Cutter and myself. Would it be too much to ask that we be allowed free passage off this planet? "
"We both lack the diplomatic ties and direct ties to Duality... I'm not sure what use we would be..."
Cyril appears to be trying to help Cutter get out seems to be genuine, why he chose him over the others seems to do with his first statement made.
He starts to make a waving motion with his left hand
"....Unless of course you want us to assassinate this Voln fellow."
Dustin is off form, but apparently so is Cailyl. The two minds collide like a freight accident, neither getting much of an impression from the other- but Cailyl sees the thoughts at the forefront of the man's mind.
"No, you're right. Voln's a monster, Duality wouldn't hire him, and he's too upmarket for The Hand, that's right..."
She doesn't sound too convinced, though. Cailyl blatantly doesn't want to acknowledge that she didn't get very far into Dustin's subconscious.
Everyone
Cyril's words seem to have a soothing effect, however.
"Yes, I think it'd be premature for me to arrange for your departure. I could see you being useful. Especially if Voln really is... really is... ...
"Oh, enough of this! You must have some idea of where these people are based. One of you. Any of you. Tell me."
Dustin feels Cailyl's attempt to force her way into his mind. He's fortunate; working under and being trained by someone like his boss is probably the only reason he'd even come close to fending her off. The Gibson detects the chemical unbalance of his anger, and begins to adjust it, smoothly helping him back into his calm groove.
You're just like her. He thinks to himself, as he calmy pulls Imogen out and places the device on the table. The business end is pointed away from Cailyl, intentionally, and he never takes his eyes off her.
"Ne, Sis..." With a thought, the merged map of the city with the Hand's current placements is projected large enough for all to see from Imogen "all you really had to do was ask."
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“I used to draw, hard to admit that I used to draw...”
Cutter glances at Cyril briefly. What's he trying to do? Why's he trying to just get us out of here? Though Cutter knows it's a futile attempt, he can't help but look to Cailyl hopefully. As expected, she let's Cyril know that we may be of service.
"Of what use do you expect me to be?" Cutter asks his hostess. "Obviously these are more suited for you, them being telepaths and empaths and what not. I, however, bring nothing to the table. But if you are able to find a use for me, I don't work for free." A crooked smile flashes across Cutters face as he finishes that last bit.
Seeing the map, no matter how simplistic, and hearing Cutter's proposal pours a soothing balm on Cailyl's backlog of crazy-psychic-woman neuroses. She doesn't hear Alliah's words to Terrence, or at least doesn't respond to them.
“Yes… yes, that I can understand.” Cailyl's smile is back, as twisted as ever. “I’m no stranger to hiring operatives, and rest assured that if you take The Hand out of the way, you’d be- you’d all be- very, very well compensated.”
She glares at Imogen’s projection. “I knew they had more than one base. Knew it.”
"Whoa there." Terrence says to Cailyl. He's not particularly surprised that Dustin had been holding some information back, nor can he really blame him. It isn't as though he and Alliah had been particularly forthcoming about Voln initially. "Look, I'm not a fighter and I don't care for your money. It's useless without a way off this planet anyway. You set me up with a ship, or a means of calling for one, or some way that results in my being not here anymore, and I'll see what I can do about your problems."
"I'd be careful, Terrence. I'm sure there are plenty of ways which our generous hosts could make you not here anymore, and many of them don't involve a ship."
"Hmmph, you all strike me as competent people- but don't try my patience. Understand that there's no way to safely leave the planet while The Hand is still active, so help me, help yourself.
"By all accounts you've already faced off against The Hand's thugs with little difficulty, I don't see this being such a problem for you. You can investigate. You can sneak in and assassinate their leaders. You can support our own forces. You could saunter into their bases butt-naked for all I care, as long as you help us deal with our problem."
She looks at Dustin. "I'm sure some of you, more than others, want some closure."
Dustin sees that smile, and draws some comfort from it. He then turns his attention to Alliah.
His tone is cold and harsh. "The information was useless, at the time. Since I couldn't trust a council civie to keep quiet and not blabber about it, I felt no need to tell you, especially since my intent was to get out of here. Informing you of it would have only potentially prolonged my stay here, «(META: Insert insulting slang verbage here)». And you're the last to talk, considering what you hid about Voln, Keh." Dustin sighs.
"Since holding back now would only restrain me...", he hesitates, looking over at Cailyl then back at the others. "yes, the Council-ratified corporate treaties, edicts and policies that were put into place to represent my individual position as 'corporate spokesperson' grant me certain rights civilians lack..."
"I'll help you deal with this problem Sis, if only for the Duality blood that was spilled here." Dustin grins at the thought of violence. "That said, I need to know what tools you have. I know you have a collection of poorly configured Warlocks... but what else did you... acquire from us?"
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"Quick question." Terrence says. He's pretty sure people are getting tired of those, but to hell with them anyway. They can walk blindly towards their doom if they want. "If you can afford to reward us so handsomely, why not try to buy some of the lower ranking Hand thugs over to your side? Even if they aren't so competent, surely the higher-ups will be worried if they lose cannon-fodder.
"I'm sure you've thought of it before, I'm just wondering why it doesn't work. What's the ideological divide here?"
Cailyl has the good grace to look a little ashamed about her organisation's grave robbing.
"The Spire tells me we... um... salvaged five Warlocks, twenty Ardent operative mechs, and six Videls. I'm sure we have more, but I'm not very up to spec with Duality products..."
She frowns at Terrence.
"The Foundation had popular support when we were voted into power, but there're plenty of anarchistic morons who want a return to the old ways, or just the opportunity to loot as they please."
"Old ways? You'll have to forgive my ignorance here. And what sort of platform did you come in on? What were things like before your Foundation took control?"
Though it seems strange, Dustin seems to sympathize with Cailyl. His next reply is notably calmer. "I see. and what about communications? I need to contact my superiors, to let them know to notify the families of those who died here. You need not fear retaliation... public outcry would prevent any supercorporation from striking out against a single planet, see."
If there were more thoughts on that last part, Dustin managed to kept them to himself. He looks over at Stephen. "Runner, as far as I'm concerned you're not here and I never saw you." (See OOC).
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"Enthiliun was a backwater planet content for all the corps and nations to scrape the best resources off the top and let the actual inhabitants subsist on what was left. The 'government' was ineffective- crime was high, taxes were higher, employment figures were abysmal- they sat back and let the supercorporations have their way with them. Under the Foundation, the world was turned aroud.
"Before The Hand turned up, we were well on the way to bringing about a golden age. Employment was up, we finally established a minimum wage, we could actually police the streets without some scumdreg declaring that they had diplomatic or colonial immunity."
Dustin
"I'm afraid that this is far beyond my control. The Spire would never agree to deactivating the intranet jammer, at least not with The Hand still so prominent."
"You're not telling us everything." Terrence says. "First off, what's this Spire you keep referring to? How's it related to the Foundation? For that matter, how are you related to the Foundation? And when did a phase and intranet blockade become part of the planetary status quo?"
"Reinforcements from where though? If The Hand is just a bunch of thugs, anarchists, and old-way-loyalists, who would want to help them? More to the point, why can't the Foundation call for reinforcements of their own? If they're a legitimate government then they can surely strike some kind of deal for an outside intervention force. Something really isn't adding up here."
"You're damn right I'm not telling you everything! If we were part of the Domarian or Montakon territories, no doubt you'd repsect our national security, but nooo, because we're independent we must be keeping secrets just for the hell of it."
Terrence can quite literally feel her anger. Like many proximate telepaths, she must find it hard to "switch off".
"The Spire is the seat of the Enthilore Foundation. It houses our best and brightest- it used to be the government headquarters. I'm not cleared to dispense such information on a whim.
"The Council-gofer there is correct: the blockade, as you call it, was first brought in to stop The Hand bombing the hell out of the suburbs. They used fliers, they used car bombs... we had to take extreme measures. The planet is essentially locked down until we eradicate The Hand- we can't risk them bringing in reinforcements from off world, no matter how unlikely you might think that.
"You yourselves bring me evidence that Voln, of all people, might have come here, and you question why outside factions would mess with our business? You tell me!
"If we can send out for help, so could The Hand. It's a risk we're not willing to take."
"Ne, ne... settle, Sis." Dustin interrupts the two. It was clear to Dustin that Terrance hadn't worked on this scale before. "And you, think of your own pride, na?" He says to Terrence.
"Eyes always function, and if they can form a blockade no doubt they still have them." The knowledge of the various ways one could bypass them was something that Dustin wished to keep to himself.
"Sis. Is there someplace I can transfer this map to you?" Dustin didn't feel comfortable without Imogen on his person.
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“I used to draw, hard to admit that I used to draw...”
She waves at the device in the centre of the room. "Upload it to the projector. I'm sure you know how to." Dustin certainly does- as a newer model, it used a format that Imogen could easily convert the map into.
"We have very little information about The Hand, which was why your find was such a potential boon. They're in the habit of self-destructing any vehicles or buildings that come into our control. Most of their equipment is cheap surplus and the usual terrorist staples, but we know they also have a handful- hah- of supercorporate devices to their name. We don't understand their hierarchy, we don't understand their tactics... there's really nothing to tell."
Alliah sighs. She really doesn't like where this is headed.
"May I ask a fairly sensitive question? One which will help us to help you a lot more effectively, if we receive an honest answer.
"Is the Hand a popular movement? Terroristic organisations rarely keep momentum without the people's backing. They need places to hide, networks of informants to know where to hit. They need a constant influx of people with skills in order to grow, and with the phase blockade in place, they can't be getting them from outside.
"I realise the foundation is not quite in the position a traditional government would be in, and so these arguments are mitigated somewhat. But we still need to know how they function if we are to help."
Having finished copying the map to the device, Dustin retrieves Imogen.
"They're at least 1000 strong... minus the 7 we've killed, and given the configuration of the 2 assault teams they probably operate in cells of 4-5 guns... 3-4 norms, and a gef." Dustin recalls the medical data Stephen sent.
"Their Gef are probably are poorly 'modified' combatants, obviously given heavy weapons and tooled out for the fear factor over effectiveness. Hm." Dustin thinks about that for a bit, before he says more.
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"You figured that out all on your own, did you? Wonderful.
"What about passing ships failing their phaseshifts near the planet? It can't be that uncommon an occurence if you have procedures set up for it. How many passers-by do you snag every month, on average? More imporantly, how many do you lose to The Hand?"
"Actually, the credit for that discovery goes to Stephen." Dustin replies indifferently. "Their procedures probably lie mostly within the illusion of control. This isn't exactly a well traveled road, ne?" Ships regularly disappearing in transit would garner the attention of somebody. Too many planets, and families involved for it to not happen.
"Sis, who controls Duality's base of operations here now... hm?" He'd need some equipment.
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"I couldn't possibly comment on The Hand's popularity or recruiting methods," Cailyl tells Alliah icily.
She listens as Terrence and Dustin talk.
"The Duality man is correct," she confirms. "Your ship was only the second we've picked up after a failed phaseshift. The chances of a craft choosing this exact system to renew their shift is very unlikely."
"And... base of operations?" That eyebrow raises again. "Duality has no presence left on this world."
"The records we got off that shuttle indicated they had been raiding ships for months. Was that all in-system traffic? Or had there been problems with raiders before your Foundation took over?"
"So it was completely destroyed, hm?" Dustin says. "Contents probably zero summed between your forces and scrap. Keh" That wasn't very promising. He put a hand to his face.
"What's this about a second ship?"
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"As I said, crime, both on the surface and in orbit, was ludicrously high prior to the Foundation coming to power. So yes, the ships they raided after the decommisioning of the planet's phase beacon must have been in-system.
The first ship we picked up was a Kerenth cargo tug of some description. It's of little import. Its passengers certainly weren't as skilled as you are."
"Indeed." Dustin says. "Ne, Sis... think you can score us some food? All this thinking about killing and sweet revenge has made me rather hungry." Dustin shrugs.
"Then maybe you can provide us with a more concrete history of their attacks." A strange thought hit Dustin's mind. "Terrence. What makes you think Voln is involved in this? How did you come to that conclusion?"
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“I used to draw, hard to admit that I used to draw...”
If that question is Dustin's idea of an olive-branch, well, it's actually not half-bad. If nothing else, with the information out there, it seems pointless to keep the methodology secret. "I noticed a small blood spot on one of the readout sheets. The DNA sequence matches Voln's.
"That doesn't mean he's working for The Hand, but he must have run in to them at some point."
That Voln could have gotten here and the Foundation not have known didn't make direct sense. It wasn't as though he could go incognito, and a trail of bodies would be just as obvious.
"Blood, hm." Dustin pulled a reference picture of Voln from the Gibson. Given his plated armor and everything, it wasn't likely that he'd just bleed a drop on some papers. "That's what I was thinking. No way he'd be here without them knowing." Dustin turns to Cailyl. "How long were communications open before your Spire closed them down, Sis?"
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“I used to draw, hard to admit that I used to draw...”
"The Spire only imposed the intranet block about eight months ago." She shrugs. The incessant questions are starting to get to her. "And I suppose I could arrange for you to use my servants' canteen, if you're really so hungry.
"Is there any chance of a mole within the foundation? It seems too convenient that Voln would be here as opposed to say De-jyt Propigonndi. One may think that The Hand may be conjuring the image of Voln in order to bring about fear within the Foundation- which I'm assuming is mainly run by Psionics. "
"Something which may only be known to those deep within the Foundation's hierarchy..."
Cyril stops his pacing...
"..Or are there any reso..."
He stops speaking mid sentence realizing he may not get an answer but recognizing that he could easily have his mind wiped he merely finishes
"Resources....on this planet that may prompt an individual like Voln to take action and perhaps put those resources into, what his mind thinks, are better hands?"
Servants' Canteen? What the hell? I've dined with royalty, na Dustin thinks, the only visible reaction to her statement being a raised eyebrow. "Hm."
He turns his attention back to his task. "Eight months ago, ne. Terrence, is your equipment or whatever capable of telling how old a blood stain is?" He knew an exact age would be impossible if it was really old, though that's what he hoped.
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“I used to draw, hard to admit that I used to draw...”
Posts
His thoughts race on about his people, fighting the Hand. Maybe even Voln at the front, going apeshit and mowing down their meager defenses. The Enthilore Foundations's token support. Both the Foundation and the Hand taking Duality tech for themselves, and in his eyes the foundation was just as guilty.
Willpower: 1d20+9 (5 will, 4 defense) → [14,9] = (23)
When he address Cailyl, his tone seems urgent but respectful
"My apologies for this interjection, madame."
"But it seems you have very little use for individuals such as Mr. Cutter and myself. Would it be too much to ask that we be allowed free passage off this planet? "
"We both lack the diplomatic ties and direct ties to Duality... I'm not sure what use we would be..."
Cyril appears to be trying to help Cutter get out seems to be genuine, why he chose him over the others seems to do with his first statement made.
He starts to make a waving motion with his left hand
"....Unless of course you want us to assassinate this Voln fellow."
Cyril laughs politely
"If thats possible."
Dustin is off form, but apparently so is Cailyl. The two minds collide like a freight accident, neither getting much of an impression from the other- but Cailyl sees the thoughts at the forefront of the man's mind.
"No, you're right. Voln's a monster, Duality wouldn't hire him, and he's too upmarket for The Hand, that's right..."
She doesn't sound too convinced, though. Cailyl blatantly doesn't want to acknowledge that she didn't get very far into Dustin's subconscious.
Everyone
Cyril's words seem to have a soothing effect, however.
"Yes, I think it'd be premature for me to arrange for your departure. I could see you being useful. Especially if Voln really is... really is... ...
"Oh, enough of this! You must have some idea of where these people are based. One of you. Any of you. Tell me."
You're just like her. He thinks to himself, as he calmy pulls Imogen out and places the device on the table. The business end is pointed away from Cailyl, intentionally, and he never takes his eyes off her.
"Ne, Sis..." With a thought, the merged map of the city with the Hand's current placements is projected large enough for all to see from Imogen "all you really had to do was ask."
"Of what use do you expect me to be?" Cutter asks his hostess. "Obviously these are more suited for you, them being telepaths and empaths and what not. I, however, bring nothing to the table. But if you are able to find a use for me, I don't work for free." A crooked smile flashes across Cutters face as he finishes that last bit.
"Dustin kept some information back for himself. What a debilitating shock to us all."
She turns to Terrence.
"Truly, a master manipulator."
Seeing the map, no matter how simplistic, and hearing Cutter's proposal pours a soothing balm on Cailyl's backlog of crazy-psychic-woman neuroses. She doesn't hear Alliah's words to Terrence, or at least doesn't respond to them.
“Yes… yes, that I can understand.” Cailyl's smile is back, as twisted as ever. “I’m no stranger to hiring operatives, and rest assured that if you take The Hand out of the way, you’d be- you’d all be- very, very well compensated.”
She glares at Imogen’s projection. “I knew they had more than one base. Knew it.”
"Hmmph, you all strike me as competent people- but don't try my patience. Understand that there's no way to safely leave the planet while The Hand is still active, so help me, help yourself.
"By all accounts you've already faced off against The Hand's thugs with little difficulty, I don't see this being such a problem for you. You can investigate. You can sneak in and assassinate their leaders. You can support our own forces. You could saunter into their bases butt-naked for all I care, as long as you help us deal with our problem."
She looks at Dustin. "I'm sure some of you, more than others, want some closure."
His tone is cold and harsh. "The information was useless, at the time. Since I couldn't trust a council civie to keep quiet and not blabber about it, I felt no need to tell you, especially since my intent was to get out of here. Informing you of it would have only potentially prolonged my stay here, «(META: Insert insulting slang verbage here)». And you're the last to talk, considering what you hid about Voln, Keh." Dustin sighs.
"Since holding back now would only restrain me...", he hesitates, looking over at Cailyl then back at the others. "yes, the Council-ratified corporate treaties, edicts and policies that were put into place to represent my individual position as 'corporate spokesperson' grant me certain rights civilians lack..."
"I'll help you deal with this problem Sis, if only for the Duality blood that was spilled here." Dustin grins at the thought of violence. "That said, I need to know what tools you have. I know you have a collection of poorly configured Warlocks... but what else did you... acquire from us?"
"I'm sure you've thought of it before, I'm just wondering why it doesn't work. What's the ideological divide here?"
Cailyl has the good grace to look a little ashamed about her organisation's grave robbing.
"The Spire tells me we... um... salvaged five Warlocks, twenty Ardent operative mechs, and six Videls. I'm sure we have more, but I'm not very up to spec with Duality products..."
She frowns at Terrence.
"The Foundation had popular support when we were voted into power, but there're plenty of anarchistic morons who want a return to the old ways, or just the opportunity to loot as they please."
If there were more thoughts on that last part, Dustin managed to kept them to himself. He looks over at Stephen. "Runner, as far as I'm concerned you're not here and I never saw you." (See OOC).
"Enthiliun was a backwater planet content for all the corps and nations to scrape the best resources off the top and let the actual inhabitants subsist on what was left. The 'government' was ineffective- crime was high, taxes were higher, employment figures were abysmal- they sat back and let the supercorporations have their way with them. Under the Foundation, the world was turned aroud.
"Before The Hand turned up, we were well on the way to bringing about a golden age. Employment was up, we finally established a minimum wage, we could actually police the streets without some scumdreg declaring that they had diplomatic or colonial immunity."
Dustin
"I'm afraid that this is far beyond my control. The Spire would never agree to deactivating the intranet jammer, at least not with The Hand still so prominent."
"You're damn right I'm not telling you everything! If we were part of the Domarian or Montakon territories, no doubt you'd repsect our national security, but nooo, because we're independent we must be keeping secrets just for the hell of it."
Terrence can quite literally feel her anger. Like many proximate telepaths, she must find it hard to "switch off".
"The Spire is the seat of the Enthilore Foundation. It houses our best and brightest- it used to be the government headquarters. I'm not cleared to dispense such information on a whim.
"The Council-gofer there is correct: the blockade, as you call it, was first brought in to stop The Hand bombing the hell out of the suburbs. They used fliers, they used car bombs... we had to take extreme measures. The planet is essentially locked down until we eradicate The Hand- we can't risk them bringing in reinforcements from off world, no matter how unlikely you might think that.
"You yourselves bring me evidence that Voln, of all people, might have come here, and you question why outside factions would mess with our business? You tell me!
"If we can send out for help, so could The Hand. It's a risk we're not willing to take."
"Eyes always function, and if they can form a blockade no doubt they still have them." The knowledge of the various ways one could bypass them was something that Dustin wished to keep to himself.
"Sis. Is there someplace I can transfer this map to you?" Dustin didn't feel comfortable without Imogen on his person.
She waves at the device in the centre of the room. "Upload it to the projector. I'm sure you know how to." Dustin certainly does- as a newer model, it used a format that Imogen could easily convert the map into.
"We have very little information about The Hand, which was why your find was such a potential boon. They're in the habit of self-destructing any vehicles or buildings that come into our control. Most of their equipment is cheap surplus and the usual terrorist staples, but we know they also have a handful- hah- of supercorporate devices to their name. We don't understand their hierarchy, we don't understand their tactics... there's really nothing to tell."
"May I ask a fairly sensitive question? One which will help us to help you a lot more effectively, if we receive an honest answer.
"Is the Hand a popular movement? Terroristic organisations rarely keep momentum without the people's backing. They need places to hide, networks of informants to know where to hit. They need a constant influx of people with skills in order to grow, and with the phase blockade in place, they can't be getting them from outside.
"I realise the foundation is not quite in the position a traditional government would be in, and so these arguments are mitigated somewhat. But we still need to know how they function if we are to help."
"They're at least 1000 strong... minus the 7 we've killed, and given the configuration of the 2 assault teams they probably operate in cells of 4-5 guns... 3-4 norms, and a gef." Dustin recalls the medical data Stephen sent.
"Their Gef are probably are poorly 'modified' combatants, obviously given heavy weapons and tooled out for the fear factor over effectiveness. Hm." Dustin thinks about that for a bit, before he says more.
"What about passing ships failing their phaseshifts near the planet? It can't be that uncommon an occurence if you have procedures set up for it. How many passers-by do you snag every month, on average? More imporantly, how many do you lose to The Hand?"
"Sis, who controls Duality's base of operations here now... hm?" He'd need some equipment.
"I couldn't possibly comment on The Hand's popularity or recruiting methods," Cailyl tells Alliah icily.
She listens as Terrence and Dustin talk.
"The Duality man is correct," she confirms. "Your ship was only the second we've picked up after a failed phaseshift. The chances of a craft choosing this exact system to renew their shift is very unlikely."
"And... base of operations?" That eyebrow raises again. "Duality has no presence left on this world."
"What's this about a second ship?"
"As I said, crime, both on the surface and in orbit, was ludicrously high prior to the Foundation coming to power. So yes, the ships they raided after the decommisioning of the planet's phase beacon must have been in-system.
The first ship we picked up was a Kerenth cargo tug of some description. It's of little import. Its passengers certainly weren't as skilled as you are."
"Then maybe you can provide us with a more concrete history of their attacks." A strange thought hit Dustin's mind. "Terrence. What makes you think Voln is involved in this? How did you come to that conclusion?"
"That doesn't mean he's working for The Hand, but he must have run in to them at some point."
"Blood, hm." Dustin pulled a reference picture of Voln from the Gibson. Given his plated armor and everything, it wasn't likely that he'd just bleed a drop on some papers. "That's what I was thinking. No way he'd be here without them knowing." Dustin turns to Cailyl. "How long were communications open before your Spire closed them down, Sis?"
"The Spire only imposed the intranet block about eight months ago." She shrugs. The incessant questions are starting to get to her. "And I suppose I could arrange for you to use my servants' canteen, if you're really so hungry.
"Is there any chance of a mole within the foundation? It seems too convenient that Voln would be here as opposed to say De-jyt Propigonndi. One may think that The Hand may be conjuring the image of Voln in order to bring about fear within the Foundation- which I'm assuming is mainly run by Psionics. "
"Something which may only be known to those deep within the Foundation's hierarchy..."
Cyril stops his pacing...
"..Or are there any reso..."
He stops speaking mid sentence realizing he may not get an answer but recognizing that he could easily have his mind wiped he merely finishes
"Resources....on this planet that may prompt an individual like Voln to take action and perhaps put those resources into, what his mind thinks, are better hands?"
He turns his attention back to his task. "Eight months ago, ne. Terrence, is your equipment or whatever capable of telling how old a blood stain is?" He knew an exact age would be impossible if it was really old, though that's what he hoped.