And the Money Kept Rolling In (and Out)

[Natasi Fortan]

Traveling off of Hoth was always a bit of a contradiction for Evelin Redstar. On the one hand, it was nice to be able to walk out of doors without the worry of being mauled by a wampa, and to be anywhere without wearing an unattractive and heavy snowsuit. For instance, the Princess had chosen a stylish skirtsuit for her excursion on Druckenwell -- black, naturally, since she was still in mourning -- which did not exactly scream "ragtag Resistance leader," but which she had owned longer than she had been a rebel leader.

"Corell Financial," she told the cab driver as she slipped into the back seat of the airspeeder. She glanced at her chrono; by her estimations she would arrive a few minutes early, which would suit her just fine.

Fifteen minutes later, the Princess was pushing into the reception area of the investment firm she sought. She gave her name and was invited to wait a few moments in the reception area, which she did, clutching her briefcase against her midsection anxiously. I hope this works, she thought, closing her dark eyes tightly.

[member="Sor-Jan Xantha"]

 

[Sor-Jan Xantha]

A R D A
Wild Space

"...and shares of MandalTech were trading above 6% on Mandalore."

The words of the analysis droid on Druckenwell echoed into the ear of the young Corellian boy. An earlink glowing in evidence of the connection facilitated by the device on the boy's wrist. Salt spray crystallized in his windblown hair. Overhead, the familiar outline of a YT-series light freighter rained blaster fire down on the ocean-going skiff that the small Jedi was poised upon.

Arda was a word far and away from the civilized governments of the galaxy. At one time, the Levantine Sanctum had extended its influence to try and shelter worlds such as this from falling prey to pirates. But that time was past. Now, a group of Ardans was shackled to the deck. Awaiting the next transport out to slave markets on Sriluur.

But for one little boy, who spoke softly.

And carried a lightsaber.

A sweep of the glowing emerald blade severed the barrel of a blaster. The reach of his free hand sending another man over the side of the skiff. Twirling the Paperweight in his right hand, the boy's sapphire eyes took stock of the situation even as he tried to be in two places at once. What a week to let [member="Jon Jon Nemo"] take vacation from managing Corell Financial. "The Roche gambit appears to be benefiting the Mandos ec..." the boy began, trailing off abruptly as the pirate he'd disarmed earlier took a swing at the Anzati youngling.

He managed to duck the roundhouse. Not the knee. He caught that in the chest, the breath knocked from his lungs as he lost his footing and tumbled back.

"Mister Xantha? What's that noise?"

Popping up into a handstand, then springing up to vault back to his feet, the small Jedi winced as a vibroblade struck the deck of the skiff where his head had been a moment earlier. "Uh... traffic," the child lied glibly, holding out a hand as an invisible hand grabbed the pirate and flung him overboard. "Commute is brutal out..."

"Is everything all... Was that a blaster shot!?"

Yes. Yes it was. The green blade was ignited once more, as the youngling knight deflected a second volley. "No, it was... uh..." Why did he have to do this? Didn't he have employees for this sort of thing? Instead, he was fighting pirates and teleworking into the board room. This wasn't how he imagined his life as a Jedi. "Construction."

"Construction? In the hyperlane?"

A third volley was deflected back at the sniper. "What? No... No, I..." the boy stammered. Had he said he was in the hyperlane earlier? Feth. He couldn't keep up with his story at this point. "I pulled off the interchange at Denon. You know. There's a Biscuit Baron there."

A bat of the lightsaber caught the incoming bolt at just the right angle, popping it back to the sniper. A blood red mist blossomed into the air as flesh and sinew were turned to vapor by the impact, allowing the boy to turn his attention to freeing the Ardans. "So, tell me about this appointment this afternoon," the raven-haired vampire asked, as he tucked the lightsaber away. "What was the name on the account? Hedgecastle?"

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​

D R U C K E N W E L L
The Ardwell Building

He'd hit the refresher on the Alderaan Queen and used one of [member="Jorus Merrill"]'s maps of Wild Space to cut down the usual commute back to this part of the Corellian Trade Spine and Techno Union space.

Say what you might about the private sector, he certainly couldn't get the returns he did in the Techno Union using the free markets in the Coalition. And definitely not in the war-afflicted markets of the Republic or One Sith. Maybe the Techno Union were the 'corporate Sith' some claimed, they knew how to grow their money.

Which seemed something of a theme for the evening. Breezing inside of the suite, the boy had changed from out of his sand and salt blasted robes and into Corellian garb. A white shirt and dark pants, the outside of which was decorated with the yellow pipping of a Corellian bloodstripe. A sage green cloak was draped over the youth's slight form. The reception droid stood as the youngling entered, stretched out a spindly arm to indicate the woman who was seated in the reception.

"Princess Highcastle?" the boy asked politely, waiting only so long as to get some indication of acknowledgment before introducing himself. "Sor-Jan Xantha, President of the Corellia Digital Corporation," the boy offered, genuflecting toward the woman with the polish one might have expected from a knight of the Old Republic. As he straightened back up, the boy explained, "I'm afraid that Mister Nemo was called away. Family matters of Cyrillia."

Jon Jon Nemo, former Republic Senator for the world of Cyrillia, had fallen on hard times with the planets sudden falling out with the Republic. He served the the Director of Corell Financial and, in particular, the fund manager for Prince Highcastle's account. In ideal circumstances, the Gungan lawyer would have been here to handle things. But, in Sor-Jan's experience the galaxy rarely operated under 'ideal circumstances.'

Holding up a hand, the boy hoped to head-off a familiar and common point of contention. "And, if I may, to avoid a common misunderstanding," the boy offered, somewhat wryly as he smiled softly. "I'm not human."

Indeed. Were she to scan him, she'd mostly likely come away thinking she was meeting with a corpse. No heartbeat. No breathing. A metabolic rate no one could understand. And it was often complimented that he aged well.

With that said, the boy motioned for her to join him in the executive suite that he occupied whenever he came to Druckenwell. "My condolances on the loss of your husband," the young Corellian offered, coming around the desk and standing beside the chair. He wouldn't sit until the lady had taken hers.

"May I get you anything, my Lady?"

[member="Evelin Redstar"]​

 

[Natasi Fortan]

Evelin rose to greet Jon Jon, but turned to find instead a young boy who looked not yet adolescent rather than a Gungan. On one hand, she was taken aback, encountering a child in a business environment. She glanced past him to the droid, who did not seem to acknowledge anything being amiss, and then glanced back to [member="Sor-Jan Xantha"]. On the other hand, she didn't care for Gungans much, always thinking them rather slovenly in appearance and, by their nature, a bit silly. Yes, it was prejudice, but at least she owned the prejudice.

"Pleased to meet you," she answered after a moment of silence, returning his bow with one of her own. "I am sorry to hear about Mister Nemo's difficulties. Please pass along the best wishes of the Highcastle family when he returns." That seemed like the right thing to say, but Evelin couldn't be sure. She was new to princessing. When the boy instructed her that he was not human, she lofted her dark eyebrows, but made no other reply but to acknowledge with a thoughtful hum: "Mm-hmm." Human, Wookiee, Ithorian, it made no difference to her, and she happily followed him into the suite.

"Thank you, Mister Xantha," she answered. "My husband's death was a shock to us all. He died long before his time, and therefore some of his financial affairs are... well, rather 'chop-and-change' at the moment. I'm hoping you can help me with that." Evelin sat, smoothing her skirt under her legs as she did, and set her briefcase on her lap. "Actually, could I trouble you for a glass of water? No need for ice," she added with a tight, anxious smile. There will be plenty of ice soon enough.

 

[Sor-Jan Xantha]

With a nod, the boy stepped over to silver tray on a credenza behind the desk.

Pouring a glass of water, the boy walked around the desk to pass the beverage to the princess before returning to take his own seat. Sliding the chair up to the desk, a holographic keyboard popped into view as the child's hands danced over the surface of the desk. In place of a monitor, a holographic 'window' popped open in the air between the two, hovering above the desktop as the boy sifted through financial reports. Earnings. Dividends. Investments. "Your chop-and-change is rather substantial," the youth remarked, glancing from the report to the woman across from him.

"What is it you'd like to do with these accounts?" the boy inquired curiously. The investments were well managed. Diversified into stock and mutual funds. The rate of return was well above market average. The Gungan had done well with this one.

[member="Evelin Redstar"]​

 

[Natasi Fortan]

Evelin accepted the glass with a murmur of thanks. "I'm pleased to hear it," she returned, glancing at the holographic window. She didn't pretend to have an understanding of the intricacies of the financial markets, but she did like the look of arrows pointing up. She took a sip of her water and then clutched her glass in both hands. She watched as the youngster's hands manipulated the holograph between them, sifting through different reports.

She looked up through the window at him as he asked her what she wanted to do with the accounts. She looked down at her water glass and chewed her bottom lip thoughtfully. "I'd prefer not to liquidate the capital," she said after a few thoughtful moments. "Not until I absolutely have to. But I would like to start taking dividends. I have some, ahh... well, some personal matters to attend," she finally said, glancing to one side. "Matters requiring rather a substantial amount of funds. As much as I can spare without eliminating the ability for the principal to gain additional returns."

She let it hang in the air for a moment before she added with a wry smirk. "Apologies if that seems rather, ahh... vague. I'm afraid I am not well-versed in the world of high finance."

[member="Sor-Jan Xantha"]

 

[Sor-Jan Xantha]

The passing of a loved one usually came with unfortunate financial consequences.

So her request didn't come across as odd in the least. Funeral costs could be astronomical, depending on the customs and the planet. Corellian funerals weren't exactly elaborate affairs, but the costs of the wake would bankrupt Lando Calrissian. It was basically customary to have enough money on the bar to supply a number of rounds equal the decades of their life. And the free booze engendered itself to wakes being well attended by every friend, pal, acquaintance, relative, relation, and dude he once met on the street, making them quite costly affairs.

"Easily done," the boy affirmed simply, folding his hands down on the desktop. "Though, not ideal. The capital would remain, but as the dividends wouldn't be reinvested you wouldn't be growing your wealth. Merely sustaining it, and potentially falling behind inflation," the boy noted. Thankfully, he'd opted to take business and economic electives at the Jedi Academy, even completing an internship in the office of the senator for Corellia so that, as a Jedi Knight, he would understand the governance of the Republic. How the Republic functioned for the people, how it interacted with them. But for that, he'd be quite lost in all this.

"In the alternative, your capital would be more than sufficient to secure loans," the boy ventured, as an after thought. "Allowing you to continue growing your money whilst addressing the immediate need."

[member="Evelin Redstar"]​

 

[Natasi Fortan]

Evelin studied the boy steadily for a few moments, her dark eyes thoughtful as she did, her fingernails tapping the glass. "I hadn't considered that. I'm typically abhorrent of debt, but in this situation, it is rather for the best of causes..." She paused and furrowed her brow. "And if we were to continue to aggressively reinvest, we could more than cover the debt repayments?" She impulsively stood up and strode away from the desk, pausing near the door to lift her glass and drink from it deeply before, just as animatedly, turning back to the boy.

"Can you show me some models?" she asked, crossing back to the desk and sitting in the chair she had occupied a moment ago. "You know, what kind of interest rates I could qualify for, that sort of thing. I don't mean to pressure you, but I cannot overstate how important my funding needs are."

[member="Sor-Jan Xantha"]

 

[Sor-Jan Xantha]

The boy nodded.

A quick entry summoned three different financial profiles to pop into view. "I'm afraid all of the models reflect the current economic depression," the Anzat noted.

Just what depression was that? Well, in case the princess hadn't kept up with HoloNet Money's latest articles, "The First Order's take over of Bespin has impacted almost all sectors of free trade," the boy stated, elaborating, "...the mining guilds, the defense industry..."

As if the Sith-Republic War wasn't enough chaos already, tibana gas was useful in a broad range of products -- from weapons to medicine -- and Bespin was one of the largest producers of tibana gas. That had shifted things rather palpable in commodities trading.

[member="Evelin Redstar"]​