Aria's suggestion had caught him slightly off guard, but what she said made sense. Technically, they didn't have any authority over this underground group of Force users and would probably not earn any favors from them by attempting to leverage their status. Not that Yerbol was going to try, but he thought that maybe his lovely, wonderful, caring partner would have maybe, potentially shoved their credentials in the collectives faces of the Force users and demanded(no, asked) to follow their lead. It was telling of the growth she had gone through over the past year. 

Yerbol's thoughts on his wife's maturity ended swiftly upon noting the cloaked figure near the doorway. 
"Honey." He muttered quietly, Aria continuing to fiddle with the terminal in front of them. A gentle nudge got her focused on what he saw, prompting an approach. While planets like Coruscant managed to hide the presence of Force users rather well due to the sheer number of people that occupied the planet, it was hard to ignore the aura that this woman(he assumed based on the facial structure) was emanating. She had to be their contact. 

After a brief exchange that Yerbol knew he wouldn't dare interfere in on account of getting sassed later, they were following the hooded figure out through the port and into the familiar receiving area that the duo would normally pass through on their way to the Tower. Instead of taking the exit a few hundred feet ahead, the woman led them to the right and down a smaller hallway jammed to the brim with crates, luggage and other miscellaneous baggage that had to be navigated around cautiously so as to not shatter whatever may be inside. 
"So you guys set up shop in baggage claim? Really?" The woman snorted again as they hung around a corner and entered a freight elevator that was peeling with rust and decay. When they stepped onto the platform, the woman pressed a glowing red button to the right of the doorway, prompting a metal grate to slam shut, sealing any attempt at exiting before the elevator lurched downward, gears grating incessantly. 
"When you're trying to stay 'off the grid', precautions have to be made, including using antiquated technology...and using unexpected places to hide out in." After a few more moments of frustratingly high pitched grinding and subsequent whining from the dogs, the elevator platform slammed downward, metal grate sliding upward to reveal a narrow hallway that opened up into a maze of conveyor belts and catwalks suspended in mid-air, crossing and bending around each other before terminating at various points in the walls. The floor was littered with suitcases and various other forms of travel debris coated in dust, grime or both. As a contrast to the dingy underbelly of the port were several metal tables at the other end of the wide room that had large pieces of parchment scattered across them along a couple of coffee thermos', ration packs and one lone datapad on the center table. Standing behind the center table was a Twi'lek, long and thin like a reed ready to be plucked by the wind. His navy blue skin seemed to almost shimmer in the dull light, his dark black eyes examining the new visitors closely. Yerbol couldn't help but blurt out:
"Master Kartan?" The black eyes twinkled slightly as he motioned for them to come closer. 
"Goodness gracious, has the little boy grown. Well, you never were little to begin with." The Zabrak's look of surprise was met with laughter by the skinny Twi'lek, who motioned to the Champion, gently chiding:
"You didn't tell me that Malu would be sending these two. Ah, probably for the better anyhow." He stepped around the table and clapped a hand on the boy's shoulder, looking him over.
"To think that all this time has passed since the last time I saw you. When was it again?"
"Before I became a Knight, so...nineteen?"
"And what are you now?"
"Twenty three."
"Twenty three!" He gave the Champion's shoulder a hard squeeze before addressing Aria:
"Forgive my manners, but an old man in my position is happy to see a friendly face, even if it is...well, we'll get to that later. I'm Olivie Kartan. And I know you're Aria Massani, so don't worry about introducing yourself. Your face(and wedding) was put all over the Net." He resumed his place behind the table as he continued: 
"I knew Yerbol when he was a youngling at the Academy, you see."
"He and Master Solus worked together quite a bit." Yerbol filled in, Olivie nodding in approval.
"Indeed we did. Those are times I still think about with fondness..." He then waved off the nostalgia with his right hand.
"But you're not here for me to reminisce. Malu sent you here to talk about Manus, correct?" 
"Master Kar-"
"It's just Kartan now, Yerbol. Formalities got blown away when Bracknell decided to eradicate any trace of order within the Force." 
"...Kartan. Right." He cleared his throat before continuing:
"Malu sent us with a proposal of sorts, for your network to break away from Manus completely." 
"Really? That's a rather bold proposal, but for your sake I'll listen. Go on."
"We know that Manus helped build this network to help Force users who had nowhere to go during Bracknell's purge and he's sort of become a cult hero among those who don't want to join the Qyaari."
"Correction, my boy: he IS a hero. Manus managed to round up whatever help he could, both Jedi and Sith, and managed to get us through the worst of it. Across the galaxy, there are havens of Force users who are attempting to rebuild their lives thanks to what he did. Which leads me to ask why you would think we would sell Manus out to a self-righteous order that is bound to repeat the same mistakes we did?" 

Ah. There it is. 

The niceties had to end sooner or later. 

"He's not acting in your best interests anymore." A chuckle.
"A proclamation with little evidence."
"We know that Jean Soto was broken out of prison by Manus, we know that he's been diverting resources from your outposts in order to serve his own interests and we can bloody well prove it if you let us." The mention of Jean prompted the former Master to narrow his eyes, a glance cast in the direction of the Zabrak.
"And what is this proof you have?"