Champagne For My Real Friends, Real Pain For My Sham Friends

[Aren Krass]

"What I've brought you both here to discuss is very sensitive..." Silas sipped at his wine again, pressing his lips tightly closed as he moved his tongue a little, savouring the wine's sweetness for a brief half second before letting out a satisfied breath. He picked up his cigar once more and took a long drag before letting the cloud of smoke billow slowly from his mouth and nostrils. He made eye contact with both Lady Dadacici and Senator Krass. "I believe that Lady Dadacici's superiors have certain plans, ones which you, Krass, have already anticipated if not in any specific way. I also believe, Krass, that you secretly hope these plans are carried out. This is because it would prove your foresight's worth to a large number of our peers."

Krass nodded, he was right. This was a Sith, and he knew what Amory was planning. He let a knowing smile slip onto his lips before he spoke again. Picking another of the small treats from the tray he lifted it to his lips and scraped the flesh from its bones, chewing it exaggeratedly.

"You know," he said after finishing, "what this is?" He made a show of the dismembered leg,

"It's called a ginkoe. They're small amphibians from the swamp of Corellia. Kind of like frogs, but a hair bigger. You see, the ginkoes don't have any method of self defense. If something wants to eat them, it eats them. My cousin, growing up, was a hunter. His side of the family never had the money growing up that mine did. He told me one time about catching the ginkoes. You see, they're vindictive little bastards. They have no method of self defense, but they do have a poison built up in them. From the day they're born they've got a small sack in the base of the neck, its a neurotoxin. They have no control over this sack, unless they think they're in threat of imminent death. Then, they rupture the sack and release it all into the meat of the ginkoe. It taints the white meat a pinkish red, and it'll kill you if you eat it. So you see, how do you kill a ginkoe? You slowly boil it. Turn up the heat degree by degree until the heat kills it before it even knows its dying. However, if you give it a nice hard poke it'll realize what's going on, and release the toxin, which of course, it's immune to."

He took another bite of ginkoe and continued,

"You could say the Republic is a ginkoe. Keep slowly turning the temperature up, and she'll never realise what's hitting her. But give her a little poke,"

he reached over to the table and pushed Amory's gass off, watching it shatter on the ground,

"and the whole situation changes."

 

[Vosrik]

Mr. Price was an odd looking man, but then again, in the eyes of the Hutts these humans almost all looked the same - in fact it was often somewhat of a challenge to see which of them was which of their many genders. Taking it upon himself to try (at least) to be the first of his species to ingratiate himself with the Humans, Nor'baal turned to face Mr. Price.

<Indeed lesser Sentient, your kind have little grasp of the finer things of life - given that they are so short for your people.> responded Nor'baal, wondering if he may have come across a little rude as he did so. Maybe he had, the Hutt didn't really care.

The fact that the man prided himself on being a businessperson was however, something the Hutt could relate with - for such devotees of the business world were hard to come by, it seemed almost everyone just sort of stumbled through life with little or no thought as to their future, their legacy, beyond who they killed next.

Perhaps this 'Mr. Price' might not turn out to be the usual mind numbingly dull humanoid after all. He called for more drinks, eager to see what the man had to say about his business.

Most people would take what Nor'baal said as quite insulting. Davian, however, wasn't most people. He was a highly experienced businessman who was very well acquainted with the Hutt's general view of supremacy over other species. They called Nal Hutta, the disgustingly hot swamp world that rained grease, the true Jewel of the Galaxy. How could one compare to the brilliance of Coruscant? Alas, truly as the saying goes: beauty is in the eye of the beholder. No, Davian wasn't so childish as to take offense; if the Hutt truly wanted to insult Davian, Nor'baal would have made that very clear indeed.

Taking his call for more drinks as a sign of good will, Davian continued amicably, "Tell me, Nor'baal. Are you an admirer of podracing? I'm an enthusiast myself and I sponsor racers across the Galaxy." He took a quick sip of his drink. "I'd be lying if I said they didn't win often. Why, the company symbol of PriceCorp has become a symbol of good luck and speed in some races! But I've got a secret to my podracers, and it's right under the crowd's very noses. I'd like to offer you the chance to use that very secret, which you'll discover has a much bigger scope."

Having located another of the tower's "dark rooms", Davian motioned to the alcove with a warm smile. "Shall we discuss business? I can assure you, you won't be disappointed."

 

[Dacacici]

Dacacici lit herself a cigarette and blew another lock of hair away from her eyes.
She followed Aren's eyes as he spoke and let out a snort of a giggle when Silas' glass shattered on the floor. Leaning over she tapped her cigarette lightly at the ashtray, then took another drag.

"This borders on madness, though there is a fine line which is often blurred out between insanity and genius. I can picture the Jedi council is the real toxin here." Letting the smoke escape her lips, she moved her tongue back and inhaled through her nose causing the smoke trail back into her nostrils.

"And like any toxin it has a counteractant."
She looked at Silas, then back at Aren.
"I suppose you watched the hearing of the Sith brotherhood not too many weeks ago? of course you did. The dark lord of the sith, Darth Vyrdesseus is an utter ridicule, hes unstable. He will provoke a full on war if nothing is done about it. The supreme leader on the other hand is a gem, and I appreciate the fact that she lays it out flawlessly. But before anything can be done, the dark lord must see his end, six feet under ground if you will. If you have the means to accomplish this, we would be able to take our first step. But only then."

 

[Nor'baal Desajilic]

Podracing! Truly this Human has potential! the Hutt thought, very nearly allow his pleasure to show on his face, as the man before him delved into one of a Hutts favorite pastimes, Podracing (or at least, watching other, less important, people do it for you). <Indeed, it is one of my most favorite past-times, attending the races.> he exclaimed by way of response to the man, whom he was finding more and more to his liking as time went by, at last, someone interesting at a Senate event!

However, the Hutt had to admit he had not heard of this PriceCorp! but that was not to shocking, as fuel was not really the Hutts game. Following the man to the alcove for his talks of 'Business' Nor'baal noted as his retinue took up the usual positions outside the alcove, sauntering around like they owned the place (which of course, they did not), as Nor'baal focused his mind on securing this so called 'Secret' that PriceCorp racers made use of.

Never above cheating in a race, the Hutt asked the man <So, care to tell me more?>

 

[Silas Amory]

Silas gave Krass a stern look at spilling his wine, thoroughly annoyed at the action, but the ginkoe analogy got him thinking. We need to give the Republic a poke to make them realise the problem. We need to create a tragedy so great the Republic must answer. But how can we do that? He clearly wanted the Sith's help, but maybe they he could use the Republic's new strength afterwards to funnel 'missing' resources to the Sith and Sacred Band, or even suggest legislation with riders in it that create security loopholes for the Sith to get in. But to what end would that achieve? Perhaps no more than the destruction of the Jedi.

"Lady Dacacici, how well does the Supreme leader value your word? I may have a proposition for her." He said calmly after only a brief moment of pause. He then raised his hand and gave a come-hither gesture. A gold protocol droid came walking up, M4RCUS. Silas took another long puff on his cigar as M4RCUS shuffled over and stood just beside his chair.

<You requested my presence, Master Amory?> The droid's tinny voice and Coruscanti accent spoke with curiosity.

 

[Vosrik]

Striding into the alcove, Davian sat across from Nor'baal to continue. He was confident that the noise-cancelling devices would keep their subsequent conversation private.

"Most pod racers use the cheapest, grungist fuel on the market. Not only is this inefficient, but overtime their racers break down. How many pods explode a race, five or six? I bet you all of their fuel injectors are worn completely away and their tanks blow."

Taking a moment to clear his throat, Davian continued, "All my racers use PriceCorp fuel. While not...illegal, it's vastly more efficient than the overpriced sludge everyone uses. It gives my racers an edge, an extra boost in power. They without fail leave everyone coughing in their own exhaust trails."

Now was the time to drive it home. "I want to offer you PriceCorp fuel for your own sponsored racers. Just watch as you start winning all your gambles, you'll never go back. In return, all I ask is that PriceCorp sets up a fuel depot on Nal Hutta. I'll offer you a percentage of all profits from the depot."

Leaning back, he straightened his bow tie and ran a hand through his hair. "Of course, that's just one benefit you'll have if you work with me. My main headquarters are here in Coruscant, and I'd be more than willing to start trading in some of that excellent-looking spice you gifted to the Senator earlier. As a token of my good will," Davian whipped out his sleek datapad and brought up a hologram of a very pristine-looking podracer. "I'd like to give you this state-of-the-art racer. So, ambassador, do we have a deal?"

 

[Aren Krass]

Silas gave Krass a stern look at spilling his wine, thoroughly annoyed at the action, but the ginkoe analogy got him thinking. We need to give the Republic a poke to make them realise the problem. We need to create a tragedy so great the Republic must answer. But how can we do that? He clearly wanted the Sith's help, but maybe they he could use the Republic's new strength afterwards to funnel 'missing' resources to the Sith and Sacred Band, or even suggest legislation with riders in it that create security loopholes for the Sith to get in. But to what end would that achieve? Perhaps no more than the destruction of the Jedi.

"Lady Dacacici, how well does the Supreme leader value your word? I may have a proposition for her." He said calmly after only a brief moment of pause. He then raised his hand and gave a come-hither gesture. A gold protocol droid came walking up, M4RCUS. Silas took another long puff on his cigar as M4RCUS shuffled over and stood just beside his chair.

<You requested my presence, Master Amory?> The droid's tinny voice and Coruscanti accent spoke with curiosity.

Aren smiled "I must excuse myself Silas, Lady Dacacici. Amory, I hope you'll keep me appraised of your business." he stood and walked away from the alcove, taking his leave of the event.

 

[Johnnysaurus Rex]

A droid like figure kept busy as they moved about the establishment unnoticed. He was a different make and model than the others in the party, but not enough to raise any questions. Dutifully, he handed out drinks, directed guests to the restroom, and took coats. Beneath the veneer of humble subservient programming, Clint was working. In the employ of a certain important Hutt, the droid was recording every bit of conversation he happened to come across. Intelligence was valuable and while Clint preferred a good blaster bolt or knife between a target's eyes it seemed Nor'baal preferred more tactful methods.

The credits were good so he kept up the dumb robot routine. Which he frankly found racist. He could rip most of these peoples' arms off and play the stock market at the same time without breaking a metaphorical sweat, but they all decided to label him as a DROID!

Clint flashed an optical sensor to his employer. He was serving double duty to the Hutt as a bodyguard, which he was of course being paid for on top of his information gathering (he wasn't a charity and drinks weren't cheap). Clint didn't see anyone who was trying to prey on his source of income so he'd keep recording as ordered.

 

[Nor'baal Desajilic]

A free racer, and a new spice contact! Lucrative indeed! the Hutt thought at the man made his deal known to the large gastropodic being. It was apparent to him that the man was clearly passionate about his business - which must a family venture due to the name of the company being the same as his clans name - and that came with its own benefits, for it was unlikely the man would try and betray him when his family business was on the line.

Plus a free Pod-Racer, which was hardly to be sniffed at. Nodding, the Hutt boomed in his deep voice

<I believe I can agree to these terms Mr. Price.> he said with a wide grin, as he chortled to himself imagining the fortune that this supposses miracle fuel could bring him in bet rigging.

 

[Dacacici]

She shifted in her seat, as Aren took his leave. Eyeing him, in an attempt to memorize his face. Her left eye twitched, and a light blue hue lit up on her Iris, her bionic lens taking a picture of him as he passed her.
Dacacici shifted her eyes towards Silas which had asked her a somewhat redundant question.
"I'm not an advisory of her's, nor an acquaintance. All though having your word that you are willing to co-operate, will do good. I can tell her that there are people here in the core worlds that sympathize with the Sith and are resourceful. Your name will have to be mentioned. I'll give her your words and maybe she will consider it. I can also attempt to work in a movement against Vyrdesseus. Though this will mean my neck would be exposed; Severely.

I'm going to ask a favor of you. I need information myself. I need the location of an ex bounty hunter's guild member. If you can do this for me, without letting this ex member know someone is looking for her. I'll be happy to work this out.
Its a fair trade. I'm sure you have the resources for it."

@Commissar Brett

 

[Silas Amory]

Silas' eyes followed Aren as the man left, waiting until he was comfortably out of earshot before finally speaking again. His gaze shifted to the girl worriedly.

"Iris, did you really have to paint yourself up so much?" He used her real name, as they were now alone. He gave a look of sympathy, knowing how hard anonymity was to achieve. "I worry about you, love, you know you're like a daughter to me." He looked at M4RCUS briefly before looking back to Iris, feeling for once that 'business' could wait for a moment.

@Shoggoth