Rahn Haaku
Minister of Foreign Affairs, CSA
Rahn Haaku's personal diplomatic vessel, the Jaded Flame, glided through hyperspace. The passing stars glinted and reflected off the ship's iridescent green hull causing it to shimmer like a gem. It was from this opulent display that the vessel had gained its name. Corellians would tell you a sentient's choice in starship reveals a lot about themselves. Glancing at the green Charger c70 retrofit, a Corellian could gauge that its owner was vain and materialistic. However if attention were placed on the ship's weaponry, oversized engines or shield generator specs, they'd see an owner who was either paranoid or prepared.
As for the owner himself, he could be found lounging in his private quarters. Removing a pipe from his lips he exhaled a plume of smoke. Sighing happily he let himself sink into the memory-mesh couch. He raised the pipe again and inhaled, letting his mind go blank and his anxiety disappear to be replaced by a sense of calm and euphoria. Rahn had initially used such sedatives to combat his species' biological weaknesses, the most notable being that Neimoidian skin turns pink when they are stressed or scared. This biological betrayal of his own insecurities would surely ruin negotiations and as such he chemically suppressed those emotions. However in the years since, he had grown quite fond of the inebriating affects.
"Sir, we are about to drop out of hyperspace." Reported a silver plated protocol droid. Rahn's orange eyes turned lazily towards his translator and perhaps the closest thing he had to a friend. "Very good TC-14, inform the pilots to begin land as soon as possible."
Rahn rose from his couch slowly before making his way across his lavish stateroom. His hands waved across an invisible sensor that opened a hidden compartment where he stashed his pipe. He had survived many years thanks to his paranoia and suspicion. He was a Neimoidian who covered his tracks well.
"May I suggest the red and gold Cyrene silk robes with blast-mesh undercoat?" TC-14 was already at his master's large wardrobe, his robotic arms stiffly holding out the chosen garment.
Rahn accepted with a grumble and began fastening his blast-proof armor around his mottled grey torso. He complained about the armor's weight and how stiff it was every time he donned it, however his instinct of self preservation was strong enough to override a daily inconvenience. As he dressed he had TC-14 recite to him the daily briefing that his staff had prepared. The faithful protocol droid reviewed the recent xxile of Commenor's King and provided his staff's impact analysis of the event.
It was these recent upheavals that had forced Rahn to return to Commenor with all possible haste. A Royal summons was not to be ignored and as far as Rahn was concerned the queen remained firmly in control. He would present himself as a loyal supporter and reap the benefits of the confusion. It was an opportunity to make himself indispensable if he played his cards right, and once that was done, he could return to Cato Neimoidia and take his revenge on those who had cast him out...
____________________________________________________________________________
Having landed at one the Presidential Palace's landing platforms, the Jaded Flame's boarding ramp lowered with a hiss of released steam. As Rahn stepped into the light he squinted and raised a grey hand to shield his eyes. Commenor was a beautiful world to most sentients but for now the beauty of Chassin city's landscape was lost on the Neimoidian. He was followed down the ramp by his entourage of staff, advisors, bodyguards and TC-14.
[member="Lady Kay"]
[member="Rys'sya"]
As for the owner himself, he could be found lounging in his private quarters. Removing a pipe from his lips he exhaled a plume of smoke. Sighing happily he let himself sink into the memory-mesh couch. He raised the pipe again and inhaled, letting his mind go blank and his anxiety disappear to be replaced by a sense of calm and euphoria. Rahn had initially used such sedatives to combat his species' biological weaknesses, the most notable being that Neimoidian skin turns pink when they are stressed or scared. This biological betrayal of his own insecurities would surely ruin negotiations and as such he chemically suppressed those emotions. However in the years since, he had grown quite fond of the inebriating affects.
"Sir, we are about to drop out of hyperspace." Reported a silver plated protocol droid. Rahn's orange eyes turned lazily towards his translator and perhaps the closest thing he had to a friend. "Very good TC-14, inform the pilots to begin land as soon as possible."
Rahn rose from his couch slowly before making his way across his lavish stateroom. His hands waved across an invisible sensor that opened a hidden compartment where he stashed his pipe. He had survived many years thanks to his paranoia and suspicion. He was a Neimoidian who covered his tracks well.
"May I suggest the red and gold Cyrene silk robes with blast-mesh undercoat?" TC-14 was already at his master's large wardrobe, his robotic arms stiffly holding out the chosen garment.
Rahn accepted with a grumble and began fastening his blast-proof armor around his mottled grey torso. He complained about the armor's weight and how stiff it was every time he donned it, however his instinct of self preservation was strong enough to override a daily inconvenience. As he dressed he had TC-14 recite to him the daily briefing that his staff had prepared. The faithful protocol droid reviewed the recent xxile of Commenor's King and provided his staff's impact analysis of the event.
It was these recent upheavals that had forced Rahn to return to Commenor with all possible haste. A Royal summons was not to be ignored and as far as Rahn was concerned the queen remained firmly in control. He would present himself as a loyal supporter and reap the benefits of the confusion. It was an opportunity to make himself indispensable if he played his cards right, and once that was done, he could return to Cato Neimoidia and take his revenge on those who had cast him out...
____________________________________________________________________________
Having landed at one the Presidential Palace's landing platforms, the Jaded Flame's boarding ramp lowered with a hiss of released steam. As Rahn stepped into the light he squinted and raised a grey hand to shield his eyes. Commenor was a beautiful world to most sentients but for now the beauty of Chassin city's landscape was lost on the Neimoidian. He was followed down the ramp by his entourage of staff, advisors, bodyguards and TC-14.
[member="Lady Kay"]
[member="Rys'sya"]