First Reply An Artsy Infiltration

[Marcis Sorr]

The Senate District, Coruscant

Purposeful steps brought the Sith closer to his destination. The prep work had been complicated, but it would all be worth it; a spoofed transponder, falsified documentation, and a bit of money laundering. All to bring him to the beating heart of the Galactic Alliance. All to bring him to this exhibit.

The last test came at the door, but once more his documentation held up.

He would have to give that squirrely 'concierge' his regards.

Stepping past the smiling receptionist, he found himself in a small exhibit with a fairly short guest list - and for once he was not there to assassinate anyone or steal something. Instead, he was there to admire some of his favourite art in person. He had studied the holographic reproductions, of course, but it was just not the same.

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TL;DR: A Sith Assassin snuck into the Senate District to look at art. Enter however you like - you could be a guest, the artist, an SIA agent investigating suspicious activity, a waiter, some criminal planning a heist or hostage situation, or something entirely different. Up to you.

 

[Garlen Zorabos]

Garlen walked into the art gallery unamused, backed up by 2 Bostadian Clone Troopers working as his personal guard. As a ruler of an unaffiliated world, most of the upper-class people on Coruscant suck up to him, showing him what the good life could always be like if he were to join the Galactic Alliance. He spits at the idea. The last time his planet was taken over involuntarily was when the Brotherhood of the Maw came in laid waste to many of his cities. Found a loophole to make his own clone army loyal to them to keep Garlen and the citizens of his planet in line only to be defeated months later and his clone army restored to him, with the traitors who were still loyal to the Brotherhood terminated. However he will still take advantage of their kindness, such as getting him on a list of an exclusive art gallery.

Once past the entrance, Garlen walked through the halls of the art gallery seeing the art but not truly enjoying the works of art. In the corner of his eye he saw a young man enjoying the art, a young man whose darkness he felt matched his own.

Garlen stared at the art for a moment and looked over. he looks over at Marcis Sorr seemingly trying to be comforting but it came off more sinister than anything else.

"Hello, my dear boy, I don't know about you, but I'm here to soak in some inspiration. What do you think of when you look at this piece?" he grinned, his accent thick and harsh.

 

[Marcis Sorr]

Even focused on the art in front of him as he was, Marcis remained aware of his surroundings. In his profession, inattentiveness meant death. Some might have panicked, or at least reacted outwardly, at the approach of what sounded like soldiers. They certainly had the gait of soldiers. He had more restraint.

He would act if, and only if, he felt a sense of danger.

When the lead individual addressed him, he glanced over at him appraisingly. "It is about conflict, of course. Violent conflict. I get the impression that the strife is as internal as it is external, however. Pristine ideals meeting the chaos of war."

There were many reasons to take to the field. Some were better than others.

Some went without truly intending to kill. Utter folly, in Marcis' mind.

 

[Garlen Zorabos]

Garlen's smile widens at the answer.

"Ah, a very nice examination of this piece. I see you have an eye for art. Me? I've never been too keen on art. But I cannot help but notice that all of the art in this gallery are all so beautifully crafted and meticulously displayed, created by some of the most artistic men and women in the galaxy. And yet, when I try to appreciate them, I cannot help but feel a sense of disgust." He shoos his guards away as an attempt to show the young man he means him no harm.

"Look at this painting here. It's a masterpiece, isn't it? The brushstrokes, the colors, the emotions it evokes. But to me, it's just a canvas waiting to be destroyed. A canvas that I can use to create a masterpiece of my own. You see, that's the problem with art. It's all so easy to destroy. One wrong move, one careless mistake, one sinister plot..." His eyes flickered with a fire that burned deep inside him.

"And everything they've worked so hard to create can be reduced to nothing but rubble. And these mindless cattle..." He said looking around at the rich and wealthy patrons of the art gallery around the room. "Are just like these paintings. Beautiful, fragile, and utterly worthless to me. You on the other hand, my dear boy..." Garlen chuckled, wagging his finger at Marcis Sorr . "I'd bet my money you may be worth something."

Garlen stuck his hand out for a handshake. "My name is Garlen of house Zorabos, Supreme Ruler of Ord Bostadus. But I do not care for all the titles and formalities today, so please call me Garlen. And who might you be?"

Garlen has always had a sense for talent. However his gut told him that this young man, one day could turn this whole galaxy upside down.

 

[Marcis Sorr]

Marcis listened patiently as the man spoke, making no move to interrupt. It was not a sign of respect, for his respect was earned. Rather, it was simply in his nature to listen - a useful skill, in his profession.

"I am Marcis," He stated, taking the autocrat's hand and squeezing it firmly. Perhaps unwisely, he had used his own forename for the falsified documentation. It had seemed reasonable enough; he was not wanted by name and there were plenty of beings out there who shared his name.

"I see your perspective, but would counter that the ideas, the styles, and the concepts are more enduring." A rare smile graced his lips. "Besides, properly preserved art does not grow old and die or get killed falling down the stairs."

It was clear the other man suspected something, but did he know Marcis was a Sith? It seemed implausible.

There was no reason to do anything drastic. At least just yet.

Garlen Zorabos
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OOC: I handed in my master's thesis this week, thus the delay.