Curacao Meeting

["Raven"]

~~ Cruise Drive Bar ~ Samson Resort ~ Planet Curacao ~~

Raven listened without interrupting, his expression composed, attentive.

Cait’s words confirmed what he had already suspected, OS&C understood exactly how the grey markets of Sirius breathed, shifted, and fed themselves.
When she finished, he allowed himself a slow nod.

“I’m glad we’re aligned he replied evenly. “Nuclear devices are leverage, not merchandise.
Their value lies in what they prevent, not what they destroy.
Curacao remains untouched, that’s in everyone’s interest.”

At the mention of “hands on services,” the corner of his mouth twitched, not quite a smile.

“If someone becomes… disruptive enough to threaten your operations or reputation,”Raven said calmly, “we can ensure they fade out quietly. No martyrs. No headlines. Just empty lanes where a problem used to be.”

His gaze drifted briefly, instinctively, to the space Cait had indicated, the idea of a concealed showroom already forming in his mind. False bulkheads. Scanner-dampening coatings. Traffic patterns. He approved before she even finished speaking.

“A hidden compartment masked as a fuel tank is elegant,”he said.
“Simple.
Boring.
Exactly what no one looks twice at.
We can rotate stock in small batches to avoid patterns.
Anything too volatile stays mobile until a buyer is confirmed.”

Raven glanced at Stephanie, acknowledging her notes with a subtle nod.

“Armored walls and redundant safety measures are appreciated. We don’t intend for deals to go south, but we plan for it regardless.
Preparation keeps accidents theoretical.”

For a moment, he leaned back, taking in the atmosphere of the lounge again.
The sea.
The glass.
The staff moving with practiced discretion.
Still, that old sensation lingered, the feeling of unseen eyes, of histories that refused to stay buried.
He pushed it aside.

When Cait mentioned dinner, something softened in his expression.

“Rheinland cuisine,” he echoed quietly, lifting his beer once more.“That’s… unexpected. And appreciated.”

He took a measured sip before continuing.

“I don’t believe there’s much left to formalize tonight.
Storage aboard the Barbados, market access in Vespucci, and a mutual understanding of services rendered when diplomacy fails.
That’s a solid foundation.”

Raven inclined his head toward Cait and Stephanie.

“For now, let’s eat. Business always tastes better when it’s shared over a proper meal.”

And for the briefest moment, as the word Rheinland lingered in the air, he allowed himself to remember a time when it meant home, before ghosts, before exile, before everything he believed in, became classified as dead.