Private Entirely Legal Archaeological Dealings

[Scoria Rayne]

Greetings. I believe that our mutual contact passed through my details and confirmed my identity.

I greatly admire someone with the wherewithal and resources to acquire such fabulous pieces, by whatever means necessary. I understand that you may be seeking buyers for some of your new inventory. I find myself intrigued and wondered if you'd flatter a dear, humble academic such as myself with a personal visit? One always appreciates the old-fashioned, personal touch when it comes to business.

With fond regards,
Mrs. Scoria Rayne

"Mrs. Rayne? He's arrived."

Scoria turned to face her manservant, nodding. "Yes. Thank you Wynston. You may leave us." Her fingers slipped over the back of the couch as she thought through her plans. "In fact, open a bottle of the Chandrilan red, the good vintage. Bring it through with two glasses."

"Yes, Mrs. Rayne." Wynston nodded and retreated to the kitchens. He'd worked for her since her married days and she could rely on him more than most. Even then, there were certain things that a person of his standing shouldn't be exposed to. The matters that she'd be discussing with her new associate were not for the ears of a manservant, no matter how loyal.

Her Coruscant apartment was an opulent affair, overlooking one of the main thoroughfares of speeder traffic. Outside the huge windows, various vehicles zipped past quietly, without a sound leaking in. A variety of plush, clean and expensive couches lined the seating area, whilst the walls were decorated tastefully with various artifacts from her adventures. Some were sentimental, little more than the first finds of a curious young girl. Others were less so, and decidedly illegal under Alliance laws. But laws didn't apply to those of means.

As her datapad beeped, informing her of her guest's arrival in the building, she prepared herself. Adjusted her dress a little more, letting the elegant, powder-blue fabric drape over her frame. She tousled her hair a little more, making sure it curled in the appropriate manner. She stood in that reception room, hands held together in front of her, practising her smile. Waiting for her guest.

Darth Malum of House Marr

 

[Darth Malum of House Marr]

Coruscant was a disgusting city, he had long since decided. There was a certain smell to it, emanating from the lower floors, and once you got a hint of it, would never pass, even if you reached the highest of apartments.

Coruscant was a city word like any other, a city world like his own native Jutrand, and if he would ask the denizens of both planets where they would rather live, well... he was not exactly sure which ones would be considered happier. On one hand, one of them had raging poverty and economic imbalances when one considered the ones from the bottom to the ones on top, on the other hand, the other was overrun with the Sith and under martial law.

However, Coruscant was overrun with Jedi, and that was distinctly a far greater concern for all involved, especially him. Indeed, normally he would never have come to this planet, and even as he had, he was cloaked by the Force, unseen by all, or at least by most, he was sure those strong within the Force among the Jedi could spot him if they looked hard enough. More a reason for him to leave this place as soon as possible.

So why was he here? This former home of the Jedi Order, this former home of the Republic. This current home of the New Jedi Order, this current home of the Galactic Alliance?

Well, it was not every day one could make a contact of one residing within the heart of the Galactic Alliance, and as he walked alongside the cloaked levitating crates next to him, it was not every day that he was invited to come to Coruscant, by a scholar and carer of such artifacts and relics, so much like him.

Though of course, the woman that had invited him here was an actual academic, an actual scholar and architect, unlike him, who though passionate, remained ever still, a wannabee, an amateur.

Still, there was ever still more to this meeting, and as his eyes moved to consider the crate next to him, he did find it somewhat unfortunate that he would leave without the crate. Filled to the brim, and filled safely with various works of art, abducted by him from the Grand Museum of Eliad, he had enjoyed staring at them for hours, immensely, yet now, was it not a pity for him to be the only witness of them? He would have perhaps started his own museum for them, yet that would bring up quite another issue.

He... did not have many credits.

Oh certainly he had more than most in the Galaxy (though that said more of the state of the Galaxy than it did for his wealth), yet it was all tied onto the allowance that his parents had given him, with how much traveling he was doing, how much he was buying and collecting, it was racking up quite a bit of expense. His relationship with his parents was rocky and awkward as it was, he had yet to see them again for nearly a year now, and he was not going to ask them for more. He entered the empty elevator, pressing the button to the desired floor.

Thus, a simple solution, if a painful one, he would sell some of the art he cared the least for, art that still had much value of course.

That should grant him enough wealth until he could find a more permanent solution.

The elevator doors opened, revealing some distance away an older but still attractive woman, chocolatey brown hair cascading down her shoulders, revealing in between her wolf grey eyes, wearing a dress that seemed to be made to impress.

A second passed before he realised she could not see him.

Dispelling the Force Stealth, ocean-blue eyes stared back at her, as he tilted his head in her direction.

"Lady Rayne, I see our mutual contact did not exaggerate your beauty," A small fixed, smile was upon his face, the charming routine as it were, that he had perfected since youth, "I am Malum, of House Martaniel, a pleasure to make your acquaintance." Their mutual contact had made it clear that she did not care for the distinction between Sith and Jedi, yet there was no reason to exclaim the fact, that was why his lightsabers were hidden deep under his black suit, and if ever ignited, would be revealed to be blue, and why his eyes shined a fake blue, rather than his real red.

This was a dangerous planet to be on, he had made the prerequisite precautions.

Scoria Rayne