Couldn't think of a title, so this is what we are going with.

[Pavor Clauditis]

Leaning over his desk, he stared at the large stack of papers in front of him. Slowly skimming over each page, flipping each page with a flick of his Shaper hand, he sighed. "DAMMIT!", He shouted, swiping the stack of papers off his desk, sending them flying to the floor. "...Karkin'..." His muttered profanity was interrupted as he barked in anger, sending his fist shooting into the wooden desk.

Slowly, he took a step back from his desk, shaking his head. With a sigh, he quickly snatched a pack of ZP Reds out of his pocket, removing it and flipping open the top. Plucking a filtered ZP Reds cigarette from the pack, Pavor slowly brought the cigarette up to his lips, digging into his pockets for a lighter.

Removing his lighter, he covered the cigarette with his hand, quickly igniting the flame of the lighter. Bringing the flame up to the tobacco, he watched as it proceeded to ignite, producing a thick cloud of smoke.

Drawing in a cloud of smoke, he shook his head as he exhaled, slowly walking over to his desk. Pulling out a seat, he sat down, staring at the entrance of his office. Shaking his head, he sighed as his secretary's voice came over the intercom:

"Mr. Clauditis, you have a visitor."

With a sigh, Pavor extinguished his cigarette in the ash tray on his desk, quickly clearing his throat. "Is it the woman I talked to about the new product?" Pavor asked impatiently, slowly placing his head on his desk. "I am not certain, Mr. Clauditis. Would you like me to send her down to your office?" His secretary asked.

Slamming his Shaper hand onto his desk, he slumped down in his chair. "Uhm...Yeah, sure. Send 'er in. Thanks." He said.

[member="Sere Reene"]

 

[Sere Reene]

The hybrid Sluissi slithered to his door, as usual she wasn’t alone, Sere was a technician not a combatant, escorted by 2 lethal noghri commandos, 5 burly trandoshans and two rodian techs, the usual composition of FFE’s bodyguard details for someone valuable enough to them to keep, all in all standard mercs except those noghri who you never wanted to underestimate for their size.

“Sss’ssss” her initial thoughts hissed before she got straight down to business, her significant tail flopped side to side, assisting her to balance and find place in front of her host. “FFE hear that’ssss you have us’ssss’ee of s’sssome assistance, with your new cigarra chip for droid’sss?”

What would a weapon manufacturer want with luxury cigars or cigarettes for droids? A new and interesting way to get droids into substance areas of the market was one, if Sera was honest, she thought him a genius and the hutts would likely pay a fortune for the stock.

“We might offer that, but ‘ssss’ we would need guarentee’sss on a cut.” Her rodian techs pulled out the paperwork contract in the form of a small datapad for him to sign, it read 70/30 in his favour and 4 prototype models for use in other weaponized projects, she had her own light spice stick on hand to join him in a smoke, a huge long elegant thing it was, tipped at the end with no doubt all manner of interesting little highs waiting to be experienced.

[member="Pavor Clauditis"]

 

[Pavor Clauditis]

He slowly glanced up, clearly flinching in disgust upon seeing the woman. "I...Uhm..." He went silent, examining the men alongside her. Slowly climbing out of his seat, he completely ignored the contract as he placed his Shaper hand on the desk, sighing loudly. He glanced around his office, examining the old, vintage bags of pipe tobacco, vintage tobacco advertisements, and cans of snuff tobacco. Shaking his head, he quickly cleared his throat, instantly adjusting his slumped posture.

Offering his hand, he nodded slightly. "A pleasure to meet you. As ya' probably know...I'm Pavor Clauditis. Co-Owner and Head of ZP Tobacco Distribution." He said with a cocky grin, slowly falling back into his seat, kicking both feet up on the desk. "Now, I apologize for my possibly offensive, and unprofessional behavior...but to be honest, I'm karkin' tired." He said, snatching a pack of ZP Reds off of a nearby table.

Striking a match, he ignited the cigarette, quickly drawing in a cloud of smoke as he held the lit cigarette inbetween his index finger and thumb, calmly puffing away. "Now, how 'bout we toss away that stick and we'll get some good ol' ZP Tobacco for ya'? But yeah...You'll get paid and I prefer introductions before I sign any paperwork. An' if ya' don't mind me askin'...Are ya' smokin' a possible illegal substance outta that stick?"

[member="Sere Reene"]

 

[Sere Reene]

Feeling just a tickle of what she had brought with her, “of cours’sssse not.” Not yet anyway, it hadn’t burned far enough, out went her delicacy, passed to a subordinate who disposed of it. “Wouldn’t dream’ssss of sss’smoking none branded product’ssss, do you recommend any?” She glanced around the room, though her appearance was hideous her manner in a business transaction was at least civil if not even cordial. Which was more than could be said about her escort, who merely grunted or just stood there like roadblocks.

“My name is'sss Sere Reene and I repres’sssent fire for effect, we have experts’ssss in the sort of interfaces’sss you wish to create.” Though they were not a droid builder, they did have experience in advanced interfacing component designs in their upcoming weaponry, such as the revolutionary ATRS technology.

“I think your idea’ssss is one of the best, I have heard for s’sssometime, but you will need experts and contact’ssss for new market’ssss…. We can provide both.” She smiled, the true smile of a snake, he would do well to make sure he signed the contract so she was held to binding contract, in her profession it was always wise to have your bases covered, and Sera did like to know ahead of time what the rules were. Shifting side to side on the back of her tail, she found a comforting middle ground, accepting any smoke he offered her, but having an underling test it first of course, never could be too careful.

[member="Pavor Clauditis"]​

 

[Pavor Clauditis]

He listened to the woman, nodding slowly, he chuckled loudly. Gripping onto the brass handle of his desk drawer, he pulled it open, quickly snatching a pack of ZP Incognito, which was produced in a small, yet slim cigarette pack, decorated with elegant text and the surgeon general warning of: "Smoking tobacco severely impacts your health." and "Additive free does NOT make a safer cigarette."

With a slight grin, he bowed his head slightly as he handed the woman the pack of cigarettes. "I apologize 'bout them warnings. They are required." He said, leaning further back into his chair.

"Alright. I'd be interested in workin' with you. However, I hardly know a damn thing about yer' company. Just...tell me how ya' plan to make these chips, and the appearance of these chips."

[member="Sere Reene"]

 

[Sere Reene]

While one of Sera's lackeys test the new smokes, one of the rodian techs with her stepped up, known as none fire because he never brought a gun anywhere, which in her profession was just odd, he was also known for repeating something until you accepted his point of view.

“Preference counts. Do you want functionality,” the rodian beeped in their usually short tones, “or do you want appearance,” the rodian then looked at Sere as if angered she’d made him ask the next bit, “or do you want the costs down?” None-fire preferred working with the costs up, as he got to play around more.

It would also depend on what market their partner was trying to cover, either droids with larger amounts of intelligence or simpler models that they could influence more easily, and wouldn’t care for things like how the chip looked.

“Many droids do not have pleasure centers as you know them, they have programming, and repetitive cycles, as well as demands for power, efficiency, input,” it was the last word that was key to this and none-fire would just keep repeating it in his usually stubborn way until Sere hushed him with a calm patting of her tail, the sluissi didn't much care how he explained it because her race didn't much care about anything, except building stuff, she liked that part. Pavor could have this design anyway he liked, in fact sluissi often infuriated people with just how much they didn't care!

[member="Pavor Clauditis"]​

 

[Pavor Clauditis]

He stared up at the Rodian, a look of disgust and arrogance on his face. "Look, Reptile. I believe I was talkin' with the woman. Not you." He said, calmly lighting up another cigarette as he reeled back in his chair, exhaling calmly as he slowly rose to his feet, examining the Rodian. "Ah...but it don't matter. We can handle this." He said, exhaling a thick cloud of smoke in the direction of the Rodian. "I'll prefer functionality but I'd like it to look somewhat decent."

He said, slowly extinguishing the fresh cigarette in the black ash tray on his wooden desk. Slowly glancing up, he nodded slowly. Clearing his throat, he fell back into the chair, kicking his feet up back onto the desk, the heavy work boots thumping against the wood. "Hey, I appreciate this, man." He said, nodding to the Rodian.

[member="Sere Reene"]

(Sorry for the long delay on replying.)

 

[Sere Reene]

“A machine may need to be adapted s’sssslowly,” Sera cautioned, “changes'sss in programming accepted as encountered variables in its ssss’subroutine, otherwise the unit may not adapt to the new stimulant of data.” So a technical schematic was brought forth, or FFE’s version of a portable data design table, autocad style for the technoheads.

Laying out the setting, it was turned on and an orange grid popped into being above it, droid programming via the table itself began to layout a base design while the technicians did tweaks of their own to the chip being modeled.

“Do you wis’ssssh the buyers’ssss to be aware of the sideeffects?” An obviously hutt-like question where Pavor might now be able to choose whether he wanted a willing or unwilling audience for the design, so an important question non-the-less. "Either possible, suggest wider market for the former, but fewer more profitable sales with the latter." Non-fire concluded, the choice ultimately being Pavor's.

Non-fire almost strayed back into rodese, often processing language much more detailed than your average human vocal chords, in translation to basic he often felt much of the real detail was lost, but he slowed down all the same.

“Credits are good, potential is good, expansion likely.” None-fire remarked, many of the cartel here were only concerned about credits, none-fire and Sera though just liked to play truth be told. “Fun to be had sssss,” Sera added, making a likely selection of materials to be used and the encoding method of delivering the data. The two were almost finishing their own sentences, were these two a couple? That didn’t bear thinking about.

Spoiler

No worries, post whenever you like.

[member="Pavor Clauditis"]​

 

[Pavor Clauditis]

He listened patiently, slowly beginning to light up yet another unfiltered cigarette. "Of course we'd allow them to be aware of the goddamn risks! Who do you think I am!?", He asked, a slight hint of anger in his tone. Suddenly, he cleared his voice, took another drag from the cigarette and proceeded to speak. "I...I apologize. I...I-I usually don't behave like that. That was my fault. Sorry."

With a sigh, he puffed on the cigarette, exhaling a thick, white cloud of smoke as he shook his head slowly. "...DAMMIT!", He barked at the top of his lungs, quickly sweeping a small can of antique smokeless tobacco off of his desk, quickly gripping onto the brass handle on one of the many drawers on his desk, quickly producing a warm, brown bottle of an unidentified liquor.

Quickly taking a swig from the bottle, he proceeded to mutter to himself in anger and rage. Taking yet another gulp of whiskey from the bottle, he slowly rose from his seat, taking another puff on the cigarette, before finally placing the bottle on the table. "Please...E-excuse me for a minute.", He muttered, heading for the office exit.

Pulling open the door, he took a step out into the hallway, taking a drag from the cigarette. After a moment or two, he finally headed back inside, ash building up on the end of his cigarette.

Making his way around the desk, he slowly fell down into the chair, shaking his head slowly. "Again...I apologize. Please, forgive my poor behavior. Can we just get this damn business deal over with?", He asked, a hint of depression in his tone.

[member="Sere Reene"]