"Thank you for your co-operation." Killian smiled down at the bloodied man strapped to the chair, turning around to forget the sight of him. As he moved out from the room he grabbed a cloth and wiped the blood from his knuckles, making himself look somewhat presentable to the guest that had arrived mere minutes ago. "Mister Zans," He offered a smile and a firm handshake to the alien creature, which was pale-colored and scaled. Just one of the many inhabiting species on Pirate's Cove. "I hear your distraction paid off, well done." A sincere nod of gratitude and admiration followed, before Killian turned to a table that displayed various bottles of liquor.

"The Serpent honors me." Zans replied, returning the nod of his head.
"Please," Killian turned back, all of a sudden having two whiskies in hand. "Call me DeBlanc." His right hand extended one of the drinks at which the alien directed an odd gaze. After a moment of examination, Zans took the drink and sipped it in unison with his host.
"What is there to do next?" Zans asked with a respectable tone, although Killian could see the eagerness in him.
"We've nearly finished moving ourselves in, but there's a few casinos and dens that refuse our price." His tone seemed to grow darker, despite the faint smirk on his face. "The problem is the biggest chain, the Sun Casinos. Any man who gets them to cough up gets a seat on my table."

Zans shot up from his seat, smacking a clenched fist into his own chest.
"It would be my honor to loosen the tongues of these... rebels." His reply earned a full smile from Killian, followed by an allowing nod.

"Facial recognition, petabytes of data access, strengthened alloys and joints, a dashing touch of paint." The sophisticated voice barely matched the rough looking figure on the hologram, who was addressing Killian in the privacy of his personal office. "They'll be ready to go in days. Hundreds at first for the capital, then further batches for your entire... empire."
"Empire." Killian half-scoffed at the word. "This is more than the work of politics, my friend. This is the work of gods." As if he were a stage actor DeBlanc raised his hands, fingers curled to grasp this imaginary concept of power.
"Oh truly, sir." The hologram replied. "What was it? Four days they suspect? Four days and you become the center of the galaxy's black market and illicit productions. A truly godlike feat."

A rapid knock came from the door, causing Killian to dismiss the hologram and answer the sound.
"Sir," A feathered head appeared through the doorway, respectfully nodding to it's superior. "Your reports on the prison break have arrived."
"Splendid, throw them in my personal drive." Killian rose from his seat, grabbing and swirling a smart jacket around his form so his arms could glide effortlessly through. A quick tug on both sides made sure the suit was complete. "Meanwhile, I've got a train to catch."

The metro system for Pirate's Cove was as you'd expect; dark, dingy and barely functioning. It did however pride itself on being on time, as the cars were automatically operated and never waited for a late passenger, even at the expense of limbs trapped in doors. Killian's train wasn't for another few minutes, enough time for a quick chat.
"Jonathon," DeBlanc took the man by surprise, stepping to his side but not meeting his eye. "Fancy seeing you here."
"If this is about the market, I won't-"
"Of course not," Killian turned, mimicking an offended look. "I understand your position on the shares. It's a shame, since I had such big dreams of taking this place over." He sighed, turning half away.
"I'm not changing my mind, I won't let some maniac like you take everything we worked hard for. We were fine without the Pirate Fleet and we'll be fine without your gang."
Killian rotated his head sideways, wincing at the name 'gang'.
"I understand." He said, turning to leave just as the train began to pull into the station. All it took was a swift shove from his spare hand straight into Jonathon's spine. The surprise and the force sent him stumbling forwards, right onto the rusted tracks.

DeBlanc left the station, a satisfied smile on his face.