how to make friends and influence people

[blighting]

[ The bar Lethe finally finds the enemy's general in is filthy, little more than a decrepit hole in the wall of Persephone 5's sprawling industrial complexes. Even for as developed a planet as Persephone 5, where Lethe's pretty sure he couldn't find an inch of the surface not covered in metal and plasteel if he tried, the dive is remarkably foul. A solid wave of odor assaults him as soon as he opens the door, and Lethe braces himself against it, grimacing. He ducks inside, eyes adjusting to the dim lighting, sweeping with clinical observation over the grunge-covered interior, the scattering of wobbly tables, the pitted and scarred walls. He wrinkles his nose.

This is not the kind of place he likes to frequent. Already he can feel his boots sticking to the floor and he hasn't even taken more than three steps into the fine establishment.

He's in the right place, though. The man he's looking for is hunched over on a stool at the bar, glowering and practically radiating a tangible air of piss off. Perfect. At least this hasn't been a wasted trip.

A wave to the bartender, a once over of his expensive clothes, and far more credits than the drink is worth, and Lethe has a glass of synthehol that promises to at least be palatable, if not actually enjoyable. Lethe settles onto a stool besides his quarry, the man who's conquered two star systems and killed countless agents of the Galactic Federation, the man who's undoubtedly the greatest threat to the known universe, and sets the glass down on the bar top with a ring of steel on steel. He slides the drink over with his best smile. ]

You look like you could use some company.

[ It's an utter lie. The last thing the man looks like he wants is company. But Lethe's sure that he can convince Vivian that company is what he needs, even if it's not what he wants. ]