Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Can You Hear Me Now?

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

Having a Jedi-owned business in the territory of the One Sith was a dangerous enough endeavor.

Hosting a former Admiral of the Republic Navy, a man who had very nearly become Supreme Commander of the Republic Armed Forces, at an office in the territory of the One Sith was more than just risky business. Of course, Corellia Digital was more than just a building overlooking the shores of Drall's famed Boiling Sea, there were also Corellia Digital stores in Republic Denon.

That being said, the fact that this was a former Republic officer was reason enough why meeting in Republic space might not be ideal either.

Before the collapse of the Techno Union, Corellia Digital had bought out a small bank on Druckenwell and developed it into the investment firm known as Corell Financial. Not only did it anchor the wealth of aurodium ingots that had become the company's kickstarter, but supplied a foothold for Corellia Digital's corporate activities in the southern sectors of the galaxy. Strategically located close enough to the Outer Rim as to freely access markets on Sullust or Voss, whilst still enabling free and ready transit back to Drall when needed.

And now that Corellia Digital was working out in the Kathol Sector, Druckenwell was a convenient staging location for supplies bound of Kal'Shebbol.

In any event, the young Anzat owned the 112th floor of the Ardwell Building. The right side of the hall from the lift was marked with the branding logo of Corell Financial. The left side with the more familiar logo of Corellia Digital. The visiting executive office connected to a small conference room, which the Anzat had used on several occasions as an alternate to the board meeting on Drall.

Gir Quee said:
Sent to Corellian Digital HQ, Meccha, Drall:

On behalf of Lucerne Labs, I would like to negotiate a contract for a supply of CD-9 subspace radiios for an upcoming project. If you are open to such an arrangement, please send my secretary droid with a good time and location for such a meeting. If wanted, Lucerne Labs has several locations from which it can host at your convenience. Thank you for your time.

~Gir Quee, President of Lucerne Labs
The boy regarded the message one more time, as he waited for his guest to arrive.

Gir Quee was a name familiar to him, though he was quite certain he had never met the man before. A senior officer of the Republic Navy at the time that Sor-Jan had been a visiting professor of history at the Jedi Academy on Ossus. To be honest, the boy knew of Gir Quee and he knew of Lucerne Labs, but he hadn't put the two together until he'd received the message inviting contract negotiations.

He'd even purchased and installed a Lucerne Labs hyperdrive on the Queen.

Watching the speeder traffic from out of the large windows in his office, the youngling waited for the representative of Lucerne Labs to arrive.

[member="Gir Quee"]​
 
Gir eyed the mirrored finish of the turbolift as he ascended up the floors of the Ardwell Building. So far it had been a surprisingly pleasant journey on the highly traveled Corellian Run. With its high amount of traffic, Gir had the opportunity to see a host of different vessels, including several types that he had never encountered before in person. The billowing red solar sails of a sun jammer zipping past the luscious orb of New Cov was still fresh on his mind. Though despite its various sights, the thought of the meeting which drew him to this new world was never far from his mind.

I wish Azira was here...She could probably read his body language like a book, and I bet she knows a person who knows him...But the bothan was already working on another project for the Labs and the Directorate. He had found out very little about [member="Sor-Jan Xantha"], but he had found out a lot about Corellia Digital. It appeared to be a corporation that had quickly expanded from datacard collection into a variety of other fields, notably game systems. But that hadn't detracted from the reviews of the company's latest foray into starship communication's equipment. Salmakk, one of his chief engineers, had lobbied hard to include it in the Hephaestus Project, and after hearing the mon calamari's reasoning about its possible effects on that project, he was inclined to agree that it would be worth a personal trip.

The doors opened with a chime, causing Gir to glance at the floor number. Right floor. He stepped out into the hallway, almost immediately picking out the symbols of both Corellia Digital and Corell Financial on the walls. Definitely the right place. He hesitated as he looked at each logo. But which corridor do I take it? The one with the Corellia Digital logo probably would make the most sense...but still...that's making assumptions...It would probably be a minor fiasco if I accidentally walked into somewhere where I wasn't invited...The blonde man began to look around, seeing if there was a person or droid that might direct him to see Mister Xantha.
 
To be honest, he didn't enjoy the fact that [member="Sor-Jan Xantha"] was here.

Druckenwell was his territory. After Cyrillia's departure from the Galactic Senate, the former Republic politician had found his footing as the president of a minor bank in Il Avali. It was through painstaking efforts at re-structuring the organization and improving profit margins, that the Gungan entrepreneur had successfully wooed Corellia Digital into buying into becoming a bank holding company. He'd figured at best, he'd get a seat on the board. At worst, a respectable share of the company.

He hadn't necessarily expected to become the Chief Financial Officer, so the whole endeavor had paid off better than the Gungan could have anticipated.

Now, Jon found himself heading up the opposition to Sor-Jan's leadership of Corellia Digital. It was easy enough to interpret the market data in such a way as to sway investors to his side, after all... numbers were his game. And, when profits didn't come through as expected, Sor-Jan took the blame as the president. All Nemo need do was bide his time for the moment he could strike and swiftly replace Xantha at the head of corporation.

And perhaps even make enough charitable donations to the Republic as to buy... er... win back his seat in the Galactic Senate.

Making his way down the hall, a briefcase in hand, the lanky form of the Gungan headed out of the office. With Xantha in residence, the Gungan found he simply couldn't concentrate. Better to simply get out of the way and allow the Jedi to conduct whatever affairs he had... and move on, back to the gorram Kathol Outback, where he'd hopefully disappear so not to bar Jon's shadow control of the company at present.

As it happened, however, the Gungan saw there was a man in the hallways. "Ex-squeeze me, sir," the Gungan offered politely. "Can I help you?"

[member="Gir Quee"]​
 
Gir turned his gaze to [member="Jon Jon Nemo"] and almost instantly blinked. He seems really familiar for some reason...it can't be the gungan I met on Carida at the Armatech factory, can he? He looked at the being's face, but he wasn't certain. Gir hadn't met many gungans in his lifetime, so he chalked it up to not having been around them enough to differentiate some of their more different facial structures and tonal inflections. Still, the gungan did seem to carry himself in much the same way as the other one did. Perhaps he is in a position of authority as well? Perhaps the local head of this branch? Gir made a mental note to look up gungan mannerisms, not for any practical use, but out of curiosity. Gir straightened out the creases of his single-breasted, navy blue business suit.

"Yes," started Gir after a brief pause, "I'm looking for Mister [member="Sor-Jan Xantha"]. I'm scheduled to have a meeting with him regarding the purchase of some equipment from Corellian Digital. Sir, if you don't mind me asking, and I do apologize...but may I ask who you are?"

Half the reason for asking was just to double-check his memory of the once senator, but more importantly, Gir was curious as to who he was talking to. The blonde man was tempted to divulge just a little more information to make sure that he got to the right place, but it wouldn't do to accidentally give information about it to a third party. Gir had seen some companies where secrecy was so ingrained in their culture that they didn't want their own employees to be aware of all of their own projects. Most of these companies seemed to be involved in the defense or war industry, but Gir had even seen some competitive apparel companies that were equally as secretive.
 
Mister Sor-Jan Xantha now, was it?

The Gungan supposed he ought to be pleased that the Anzat had elected such a plebian styling himself. Master. General. Pah. "Ah, yousa must be from da Lucerne Labs," Jon remarked, at last connecting the visitor with a schedule office call. He knew of the meeting, of course. The Grand High Poobah had commanded that Jon supply him with a financial statement on Lucerne Labs reported gains and losses on the markets.

As Jon was motioning for the man to head down the Corellia Digital corridor, the question as to his own name promoted the Gungan to give a second look at the man. He might have been passingly familiar, but damn if all humans didn't look the same. And, to be totally honest, there wasn't a human in the galaxy Jon had met worth remembering.

Having not given any speeches in the Galactic Senate, or argued in open court, the Gungan had fallen out of training his voice to minimize his Gungan accent. "Meesa Jon Jon Nemo," the man remarked, with the Naboo dialect rolling off the tongue. "Meesa da Chief Financial Officer and President of da Corell Financial."

The eye stalks of the Gungan blinked as he asked, offhandedly, "Whosa is yousa?"

The answer to which was almost certainly, 'no one of any real importance.' Except that he was a new customer, and Jon would cater to the man in so far as any new business was good business.

[member="Gir Quee"]​
 
Who am I? That's a classic question...but I doubt he wants to talk philosophy with me...

"Gir Quee, president of Lucerne Labs," stated Gir absentmindedly.

For the purposes of this meeting, that was who he was now.

Like many others in the galaxy, Gir wore and changed his roles as fluidly as he changed his clothing. One day he might be captain, the next day an admiral. He was even that quiet guy who was always absorbed in his datapad while sitting at the local cafe. Despite the importance of some of those roles, Gir didn't believe that they made him who he was, nor did he conflate them with self-worth. The roles a being filled were but one window into who a person was, yet not a single one was his sole identity. He briefly paused for a second to look into [member="Jon Jon Nemo"]'s amber eyes as they neared the designated meeting room.

"It sounds like you hold a very important office," said Gir, "thank you for taking the time to show me to the right place. I imagine that you are often rather busy."
 
"Mister Nemo certainly feels as though his office is important."

The art of delivery was a quintessential facet of human conversation. What he had said sharply contrasted the manner in which it had been said, the intonation and stress placed at all the right points so not to appear on the surface to have been the blatant insult that it was.

Standing in the doorway, the small Anzat and the tall Gungan shared a look between themselves... before the latter bowed his respects toward the human man and walked away. Shifting his attention away from the Gungan's retreating back to the man standing in front of him. The boy wore Corellian garb, a banded collar shirt and a pair of dark trousers embroidered with the distinctive bloodstripe. The only thing which outwardly marked him as a Jedi was the thin cylinder hanging from his belt. "Admiral Quee," the boy offered in greeting, stepping aside so that he could invite the man inside of the meeting room. "I hope your journey to Druckenwell was uneventful."

There were people who embued themselves with an air of self-importance.

And then there were people who made genuine and lasting contributions to the community with their time.

Jon Nemo was an example of the latter, unfortunate as that might have been. The once humble prosecutor transformed by his own political hype machine into a man who was propped up by his own hype. None of which was the case with someone like Gir Quee, who continued to carry his own weight and let his actions speak for him.

All things being equal, Sor-Jan had in mind to avoid any Republic entanglements. Ever since Order 66 and the Declaration of the New Order, he'd found it difficult to place any blind faith in the Galactic Senate. But as a Republic Admiral, Gir Quee had been one of those rare individuals who was respected by both peers and adversaries alike.

That was more than the mark of a warrior, it was a testament to an honor or ethic that was recognized across political boundaries. Across even lines of battles.

Perhaps there was some truth to the old Mandalorian adage that said, 'You never really know someone until you fight them.'

Stepping inside the room behind his guest, the boy motioned to the table. "My name is Xantha. Sor-Jan Xantha," the youth supplied by way of introduction, as he made his way toward a seat at the end of the table. "Can I get you anything? Coffee? Tea? Water?"

[member="Gir Quee"]​
 
Gir briefly turned too watch Jon-Jon Nemo depart with some curiosity. For someone who had seemed to be so helpful, the gungan's words came as a surprise to him. But I don't know their past...perhaps there is something more to their relationship than I know. He turned his attention to the apparently youthful CEO before he walked into the room.

At a glance, [member="Sor-Jan Xantha"] could have passed as a schoolkid to him. But a closer inspection revealed a demeanor that was very different than most human children that he had seen, but the Corellian bloodstripes were even more telling. This is someone who has either been very courageous on the battlefield, or someone who is very bold to try and wear them without the proper award. He guessed it was the former, given that Sor-Jan's high-level position would have drawn controversy if there was even a thought that they hadn't been properly earned. He would have to look up the anzat's exploits after this meeting to sate his curiosity about his potential supplier.

Gir's dark business suit wouldn't likely tell much about the native of Hast, albeit the particular cut was popular in the northern reaches of the "Slice". While it was reasonably comfortable, the suit wasn't as comfortable his old Republic duty uniforms. But it had been months since he had worn a proper military uniform. Despite his transition to wearing civilian clothing, his lifestyle skirted on the edge of being paramilitary. The clothing along with his official role may have changed, but the man and his end-goals had not. Gir's lips slowly curled upwards as he briefly made eye contact with the ancient anzat.

"It was a pleasant journey," said Gir, "I would be obliged for a glass of water, if you don't mind."

As much as Gir enjoyed the occasional glass of alcohol, he did not feel quite comfortable drinking when there was a deal on the table to negotiate. Perhaps if he had known Sor-Jan longer or if he had been present to simple sign on the dotted line, he may have accepted the offer for an adult beverage. Though in introspection, it seemed odd to be accepting a drink from someone who seemed so young.
 
Water.

With a nod, the boy motioned toward the table. "Please, have a seat," the young Jedi offered cordially, as he made his way over to a bar area on side of the room where a serving tray was waiting with a selection of pitchers and decanters on it. Pouring a glass of water, the tow-headed youth proceeded back to the table.

Except, at some point, the glass and the boy parted ways. As the small Jedi made his way to a seat across from Gir, the glass continued moving through the air until it had arrived within arm's reach of the man.

It wasn't meant as any display of power. If anything, it's casual use said much about the practiced nature of the boy's disciplined mind. Something so simple as levitating a glass was more an after thought than a measure of any real effort. "Mister Nemo asked me review your earnings for the last quarter, but I admit I haven't had the chance," the boy remarked, as he hopped back into a chair and folded his arms down on the table. "I was more intrigued at the prospect of meeting the man than I was the meeting itself."

Gir Quee. For everything he'd ever heard or been told about this man, he'd imagined he'd be taller. "Some of your strategies were considered required reading by the Levantine FrontiersCorps," the boy offered, by way of explanation. "As I recall, your defensive line at Attahox in particular was one that I looked at."

A straight forward strategy, to be sure. But well executed. Sor-Jan would have appreciated having a man like Gir during the Clone Wars. Or even before, during any number of smaller conflicts that had eventually led to the galactic disaster that had been the Empire.

"So, tell me, Admiral," the youth said finally, gesturing with an open hand toward his guest. "One old Republic soldier to another... what can I do for you?"

[member="Gir Quee"]​
 
Attahox. The blonde man took a sip of water from the glass, letting it flow down his throat. Gir still couldn't fully comprehend that [member="Sor-Jan Xantha"] was a jedi (or at least he guessed so from the Anzat's use of telekinesis), though it certainly explained both his unusual maturity and the Corellian bloodstripes. While Gir had been fortunate enough to have met several jedi before and had even fought alongside some of them, they never ceased to impress the man. Not only in their abilities as fighters and soldiers, but with their own experiences. Gir had a hard time imagining the lifestyle that one walked in that life, especially if one had started at a young age. He knew it not to be an easy one at many times. He's probably been in tighter spots than me in combat...or at least more personal ones. He could probably show me a few things to learn myself. Yet Gir was equally impressed that the jedi remembered his name from a lecture. That sort of personal touch often separated the great business leaders from the merely good ones.

"Subspace radios, particularly Corellia Digital's CD-9 subspace radio," said Gir, "my engineering team is always looking for the best option for our own product line. Sometimes we can manage to accomplish such subsystems in-house, but my engineers believe that in this case, Corellia Digital has us beat, which I would offer to you as high praise. While I am not an engineer myself, nor will I pretend to understand the complexities of this equipment, one of my trusted advisors tells me whoever designed the CD-9 has an exceptional eye for detail. I myself was a bit skeptical about this at first, perhaps out of some misplaced pride in my own people, but I must admit that the inclusion of a diatum back-up power cell particularly caught my eye.

In our current project, it is vital that this ship will be able to maintain frequent, maybe even constant, communication to personnel light-years away. Moreover, as this ship processes raw materials in sometimes harsh conditions, it is imperative that in the event of a disaster, that the ship's crew be able to call for help quickly."

Gir took a brief moment to pause.

"So I guess it becomes a matter of what do I and the Labs need to do to acquire a steady and reliable supply of your radios?"
 
In as much as it was always nice to have one's work complimented, this was a case where the boy could hardly accept such praise.

"That would be the work of [member="Marque"], our Chief Creative Officer," the youth noted simply. The Zeltron engineer was a marvel when it came to software or mechanical engineering. He'd taught the Anzat more in weeks than the Jedi had in decades of experience out in the field. The diatium power cell, on the other hand, had been Sor-Jan's suggestion. It wasn't creative so much as it was habit. Diatium power cells were used by the Jedi of the Old Republic for any number of applications, emergency back-up power supplies being just one example

In fact, during the Stark Hyperspace War, Sor-Jan had disassembled his lightsaber - a training saber at the time - in order to use its diatium power cell to send a message.

That experience, or, rather, the experience of then reassembling the lightsaber was probably the only reason he'd figured out how to construct his own. And, thus, pass one of the final trials before a Jedi could be knighted.

"I suppose that depends on where you want to receive the radios," the boy murmured, in response to being asked about a steady and reliable supply. He had a couple of resources he could use to move the radios through the various hyperlanes. [member="James Justice"]'s company in particular had been a source of reliable transport for delivering comlinks to the Silver Sanctum Coalition.

"Is there a particular offer that you had in mind?"

[member="Gir Quee"]​
 
Gir nodded in understanding as [member="Sor-Jan Xantha"] credited his Chief Creative Officer. A company's employees are its strength...at least for many of the most successful companies...His mind quickly shifted onto the consideration of where to receive the radios. The logistics of space travel were perhaps one of the few areas of the business where he did not need an indepth consultation. Lucerne Labs had its own small merchant fleet that was charged with delivering products to their customers. He imagined that it would not be too hard to find time in their schedule to reroute several of their freighters to pick up the radios. He looked up at the jedi.

"If it is possible, we would prefer to pick them up here on Druckenwell," said the man from Hast, "my company can likely handle the shipping with its own ships right now, though we may have need of a contractor later on."

Gir pulled out a miniaturized datapad from his coat pocket and slid it over for Sor-Jan to read.

"This datapad contains our opening offer and proposed contract," explained Gir, "though as always, everything is open for negotiation."

Not being particularly financially astute when it come to the fine details of business negotiations, he had relied upon his contracting team to write out the offer and proposed contract. He was told that the terms and conditions were fairly standard, but one never knew what might come up. He had been told in particular that some species particularly enjoyed haggling, and even others, like the givin, expected to see advanced mathematical equations as part of their terms. Sometimes the givin would then offer counter terms in the forms of quadratic equations and formulas to solve. Needless to say, Gir found himself being very thankful that Sor-Jan was not a givin.
 
The child's hand stretched out to halt the slide of the datapad across the desk.

The youngling's blue eyes flickered upward to meet Gir's gaze for a moment. The Jedi wasn't sensing any deception from the man. If anything, his read of Admiral Quee was that he was forthright.

Breaking from the soul-searching gaze, the boy looked down as he read over the figures on the datapad. A reasonable set of terms, with a modest profit margin. He could have haggled, perhaps tried to argue for a ten percent mark-up, when he knew he'd settle for two, but that didn't seem called for. If anything, there was more to be gained by having a solid customer base than there was in nickle or diming Lucerne Labs at the start.

Besides, the offer was reasonable. And that was really the only thing Sor-Jan required.

It was nice when the customers were people he looked forward to doing business with however.

Sliding the datapad back across the table, the boy folded his hands down on the table as he looked back up at Gir. "This is acceptable," he answered formally.

[member="Gir Quee"]​
 
"Excellent," replied Gir.

He felt tension flow out of his body: the type of tension that he didn't know he had even had until the event had passed by. With that feeling of alleviation, he could now fully turn his thoughts and energies to the future. Doubtlessly, he would have to ensure that his employees made contact with [member="Sor-Jan Xantha"]'s employees to turn the contract into an actuality, but that didn't worry him either. He knew his people to be competent, and everything he had seen at Druckenwell so far had suggested that Corellia Digital's people were competent as well. And that meant that he could trust them. Trust, the basis of all good business relationships...Gir slowly stood up from the table.

"Do we have any more items to discuss?" asked Gir, "if you ever find yourself by Hast or any of Lucerne Lab's other locations, myself or any of the other Lucerne executives would be honored to be your host..."
 

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