Maximilian Prath-Praji was the full name of the man who entered the mansion. This was his home - or at least it was one of them. He also had an apartment on Canto Bight, a townhouse on Corellia and a pad over on Coruscant. He very rarely visited any of them, except when the necessity to remain on one world for more than a few days arose. This was one of the exceptions. He walked along a dimly lit corridor that ran the entire length of the building from the landing pad at one end, to a private elevator at the other, his well polished shoes resonating a march as he padded down the hall.
There was nobody else in sight, no protocol or utility droids. He reached out and pressed the call button, his ring briefly catching in the morning sun. It was a small elevator, barely large enough to fit his modest frame. But, he lived alone. What few droids he had used the stairs. The elevator took him to the fifth floor of the building, and opened directly into his private office - a well ornamented room that he felt accurately reflected his personality. One particular item of note was that the windows of the room were all mirrored, allowing no view in, whilst commanding a respectful view out. It was safer that way.
The dim lighting of the room came from a series of lamps built into the floor and ceiling, controlled by a remote he collected from a small table upon entering. Aside from a few paintings, the main furniture of the room was a long glass table surrounded by leather chairs, whilst at the far end of the room, inside a glass walled office, was a minimalist desk with a high backed chair. Maximilian took his seat at the long conference table, and suppressed the lights in the room further still, before gently pressing the activation button on the underside of the table.
Slowly a collection of holograms appeared in each seat, as the door into the room clicked shut and a secure screen slid into place over each of the windows. After a few moments, there were eight holograms around the table, showing men and women from across the galaxy. One was an elderly man with graying hair, another a native Muun in a clipped grey suit. Next to him a cruel looking Rodian sat, whilst to his left a heavy-set Duros toyed with a datapad. It was clear that the people here represented a slice of the galaxy's underbelly, and whilst they came from very different walks of life, they all had one thing in common: a coldness that made the gathering morose.
None of them even looked up as he took his position at the head of the table.
The meeting began “Good afternoon,” Prath-Praji began. A few of the figures around the table looked up. The people sat about the table made up the top hands of an intelligence and assassination group, currently in its formative stage, led by the man about whose table they sat (albiet remotely). They had come to the room to update their boss on their individual progress in various operations, the elderly human was overseeing an operation to take over a Union on Corellia, whilst the Rodian was heading up an operation to take out the CEO of a major importer for an anonymous client.
“You may begin your reports.” he instructed, before pressing a button on his datapad which would make his holoprojection remain consistent, even if he moved from his chair. “We have made preparations for the removal of the Systech Operations Director, which should complete -” the Rodian commenced, as Max stood from his chair and headed off to look out of one of the windows. For several minutes he went over the details, before being bogged down by questions from the other operatives.
Max had already received their individual reports directly; the meeting itself was more of a formality. However, it was useful for the men and women at the table to ‘’exchange notes’ every now and then. Stepping into his private office as the others went over the specifics of another mission, he activated his privacy screen, and continued with his own work - namely making first contact with the Senator for this world.
Dialing the number, which would connect him to a probe droid he had ensured was delivered to the residents of the Senator earlier in the week, as part of a ‘routine service droid update’.
Once connected, he would speak through a voice scrambled communicator, which would be transmitted to the probe droid, and thereafter, enable him to communicate directly with the Senator as if via a commlink. Only, a very very secure one. The meeting had been arranged through a series of agents over the last few months, neither party wanted anyone knowing the two of them would be speaking. “Good Afternoon, Senator.” he began.
There was nobody else in sight, no protocol or utility droids. He reached out and pressed the call button, his ring briefly catching in the morning sun. It was a small elevator, barely large enough to fit his modest frame. But, he lived alone. What few droids he had used the stairs. The elevator took him to the fifth floor of the building, and opened directly into his private office - a well ornamented room that he felt accurately reflected his personality. One particular item of note was that the windows of the room were all mirrored, allowing no view in, whilst commanding a respectful view out. It was safer that way.
The dim lighting of the room came from a series of lamps built into the floor and ceiling, controlled by a remote he collected from a small table upon entering. Aside from a few paintings, the main furniture of the room was a long glass table surrounded by leather chairs, whilst at the far end of the room, inside a glass walled office, was a minimalist desk with a high backed chair. Maximilian took his seat at the long conference table, and suppressed the lights in the room further still, before gently pressing the activation button on the underside of the table.
Slowly a collection of holograms appeared in each seat, as the door into the room clicked shut and a secure screen slid into place over each of the windows. After a few moments, there were eight holograms around the table, showing men and women from across the galaxy. One was an elderly man with graying hair, another a native Muun in a clipped grey suit. Next to him a cruel looking Rodian sat, whilst to his left a heavy-set Duros toyed with a datapad. It was clear that the people here represented a slice of the galaxy's underbelly, and whilst they came from very different walks of life, they all had one thing in common: a coldness that made the gathering morose.
None of them even looked up as he took his position at the head of the table.
The meeting began “Good afternoon,” Prath-Praji began. A few of the figures around the table looked up. The people sat about the table made up the top hands of an intelligence and assassination group, currently in its formative stage, led by the man about whose table they sat (albiet remotely). They had come to the room to update their boss on their individual progress in various operations, the elderly human was overseeing an operation to take over a Union on Corellia, whilst the Rodian was heading up an operation to take out the CEO of a major importer for an anonymous client.
“You may begin your reports.” he instructed, before pressing a button on his datapad which would make his holoprojection remain consistent, even if he moved from his chair. “We have made preparations for the removal of the Systech Operations Director, which should complete -” the Rodian commenced, as Max stood from his chair and headed off to look out of one of the windows. For several minutes he went over the details, before being bogged down by questions from the other operatives.
Max had already received their individual reports directly; the meeting itself was more of a formality. However, it was useful for the men and women at the table to ‘’exchange notes’ every now and then. Stepping into his private office as the others went over the specifics of another mission, he activated his privacy screen, and continued with his own work - namely making first contact with the Senator for this world.
Dialing the number, which would connect him to a probe droid he had ensured was delivered to the residents of the Senator earlier in the week, as part of a ‘routine service droid update’.
Once connected, he would speak through a voice scrambled communicator, which would be transmitted to the probe droid, and thereafter, enable him to communicate directly with the Senator as if via a commlink. Only, a very very secure one. The meeting had been arranged through a series of agents over the last few months, neither party wanted anyone knowing the two of them would be speaking. “Good Afternoon, Senator.” he began.