Oh some very base level, Mal'achi was disappointed that he had not come upon Azrin in a rage over how the intended plan had not come to fruition. Not that Shadowstar had ever given him reason to suspect he may have reacted in such a way, but it just would have been nice for a change. But no, his counterpart instead sat comfortably as if he was about to go and profess that he had foreseen this outcome and it had gained them valuable information or some other rhetorical nonsense. Ever true to themselves, at least that was something that count be counted on.

Perhaps things would have gone differently if they still had the utmost backing of the Empire they both served. When the Inquisition had been around, when Mal'achi spent more time at the Maw than any other locale, when they had easy access to other individuals whose research was actually creative and promising rather than such crude machinations and outdated experiments as they'd been forced to make use of... Ah, but alas, there was no use in crying over spoiled milk, as it were. What was simply was, Will of The Force or not.

Not that he didn't fully approve of what they'd created and used. It all had seemed a perfect mix of technology and psychological warfare. There were just items that hadn't been accounted for, alliances and loyalties and personalities that hadn't been properly taken into consideration.

"What? Am I not allowed a modicum of family pride?" Mal'achi answered, a satisfied rumble colouring not just the words but his very essence.

"I must admit I never expected the girl to react so..." He paused as he considered the scarce information they had managed to scrounge on the newest member of the Ath-Thu'ban lineage. "Emphatically."

He let his own brand of amused laughter leave, nothing much past a breath, but allowed regardless.

"I do think we may have underestimated our..." Another pause. Adversaries was the right word, but it gave the merry little band far too much credit. It implied they were more than just a wayward pinprick left in a suit that had just returned from the tailor; easily plucked away to smooth things out to perfection.

"Targets." The settled for word felt wrong, but Mal'achi refused to allow for a longer time to consider it further.

As he had spoken, Mal'achi had moved into the room, but it was only now that he finally made his way to Azrin's desk. He eyed the glass in Shadowstar's hand not with envy, but almost with a shame that the man chose to partake alone. Then again, was the former Jedi really any different?

"Given the end results of this little endeavor," He didn't say fiasco like he wanted, simply because it wouldn't have gained him anything. "I think it's time we called upon a true professional. Sarlacc, perhaps? Unless, of course, you object?"