Private Fortunate Son

[Jordar Varcskel]

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Location: Fondor Starport
TAGS: Alban Roble | Pravus Cruento | Vislor Elatar

Fondor had undergone many changes since even before Jordar became the Viceroy, Roble Manufacturing had long been established on Fondor, Elatar Enterprises a fairly new endeavor had sought and begun to make its mark as well though where one might have expected rivalry the two companies seemed to be working together quite well for the development and betterment of Fondor as a whole which in truth made his job all the easier as their philanthropy and development allowed him to turn his attention to the political and the day to day operations that were demanded of government.

Such was the case today, he had received word that the son and future entrepreneur himself from a wealthy family on Challon. While not unusual for those to come seeking their fortunes so far from the Core Worlds, usually those would-be business types would have significantly less notoriety to their names, regardless Jordar and taken the liberty to reach out Alban Roble and Vislor Elatar and alert them of the arrival of a guest and invited them to meet them at his office.

For now, Jordar stood at the exit from the landing pad where his guest would be arriving, there were no droids or crowds just him, as he had no desire to greet someone with fanfare who was attempting to fly under the radar, in truth he had debated letting Pravus Cruento come to him but in all likelihood, he would not have and so he would greet him in the least offputting manner.

 

[Pravus Cruento]

‘Day one of the rest of your life’ thought Pravus as he shuffled his collar. He had not slept much the previous evening (or whatever the time was. He would take some adjusting to the system’s own pattern) and felt sluggish. He looked the part though; buttoned tunic-robe, the comforting weight of the hem sitting against his legs as he travelled through the skies toward his destination:

He breathed in the air; he always felt air should not have its own taste and yet, depending on the makeup of various factors, it inevitably did. He felt the air on Challon, his home world, was the way it should taste and that every other planet had was a deviation from that.

He cleared his head, determined to focus on this most important of occasions. Cruento Banking and Holdings was more than a blank bill of credit for a playboy lifestyle. It was mostly a blank bill for a playboy lifestyle, but he had ambitions beyond that which his father had dreamed of. He would take his own portfolio of holdings and investments, streams of capital from various financial veins and see what a young man from Challon could do with it.

His options had been limited but the right introductions had led him to take passage to one of the great hubs of commerce; Fondor. The Confederacy of Independent Systems had been an attractive if not inevitable prospect; the CIS were by far the most fiscally flexible (he thought dubious but shook it out of his train of thought) and this would enable some serious work to be enacted.

The shuttle began the familiar shift known to sub-atmospheric vehicles and descended; he had arrived. He guided his hands across the newly tailored robe, and he stood, determined it might hurry up the inevitable meeting.

With the door descended, he walked out into the fresh air and looked at building attached to the landing pad. There he was: a tall and striking figure. Pravus stiffened a little; he would try to be as impressive as he could with the man he would be meeting. He could not miss him; there was nobody else on the pad.

Pravus smiled a little, convincing himself to be as confident as possible.

He approached the figure on the pad. He extended his gloved hand.

“We just about made it on time! Pravus Cruento, from Challon.”

 

[Alban Roble]

F O N D O R

Tag: Jordar Varcskel | Pravus Cruento | Vislor Elatar

The industrial skyline of Fondor was a blue-and-grey blur as Alban's speeder rushed through traffic towards the LaSal Intergalactic Starport. He had gotten a last-minute holomessage from the Viceroy of Fondor, Jordar Varcskel -- something about a rich, wealthy kid coming in from the Core Worlds. Alban had to admit that he had rolled his eyes when the message had come in. It was always the same. Rich offworlders coming in from the Core, thinking themselves superior and Fondor inferior. It had taken a while for the Starshipwrights Guild to warm up to Jordar, for all of his good intentions.

That had been only because the Confederacy had forced Jordar on them. The Viceroy would be kidding himself if some rich Core World playboy would get the same reception.

Nevertheless, Alban had put on his diplomatic face. As much as he was a Fondoran, he was also a businessman. A rich playboy was always a source for potential investment -- make them a fancy speeder or engraved blaster -- and their credits were virtually his. It wasn't like he was hurting for funds, but a hefty investment was always a good start to a side project.

Who knew? Alban thought to himself as he walked down onto the private platform, buttoning his suit jacket. Maybe this kid could be of use to him.
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[Jordar Varcskel]

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Location: Fondor Starport
TAGS: Pravus Cruento | Alban Roble

Jordar had simply stood watching as the ship landed, a young man descending the ramp of the ship with great care to look important he almost would have laughed but he controlled himself better than that. When the young man actually got close enough he extended his hand and Jordar grasped it firmly "Welcome to Fondor Pravus, I am afraid your father did warn me you were coming but I decided to keep things low key for you. My name is Jordar Varcskel, I am the Viceroy of Fondor." he motioned the man to follow him and he turned beginning to head back into the waiting area of the hangar before taking the long corridor to his waiting speed.

"I have asked a couple of notable guests from Fondor to meet us at my office if you don't mind, I'm sure the flight in was quite long but I wanted to go ahead and make introductions. Of course, if you would rather explore Fondor at your own pace I won't hold you to any pre-arranged plans" he glanced over his shoulder at Pravus, Jordar was always careful to leave people an out so they never felt committed or required to any course of action, a personal opinion of his that people should have a right to tell him no without feeling bad. When they finally arrived at the speeder he turned to look at Pravus awaiting his answer.

 

[Pravus Cruento]

Pravus couldn't think much beyond the words 'Viceroy of Fondor'. The elegant man was efficient and seemed sincere but Pravus wasn't often found with politicos, let alone a planetary Viceroy. He swallowed hard and adjusted his jacket, following Jordar. They began to leave the landing pad, the shuttle beginning the usual turn-around sequence.

He listened to Jordar speak, keeping behind the Viceroy; this was his home, so to speak, and Pravus was not going to offend him.

Other people. Introductions.

The words replaced the ones that had been rattling round and round and he began to imagine all sorts of nefarious or celebrated types that could be there. Bounty hunters sent to assassinate him? Call gils? Drug pushers?

Pravus stopped. The Viceroy was looking at him. Pravus had missed what he'd said. He'd been day dreaming again. He needed to pay attention or he'd get himself a one-way ticket home...or worse.

He made an educated guess and tried cover all grounds.

"I'd really like to get a move on with the business at hand. I'll accompany you wherever you'd like to go, Viceroy." He tried a half chuckle but regretted it. He must sound like a real idiot. A spoiled, rich, stupid idiot who was out of his depth with the Fondor elite.

 

[Alban Roble]

F O N D O R

Tag: Jordar Varcskel | Pravus Cruento

Everyone had their quirks. Some smoked tabacc, puffing out the inhaled smoke after each brief moment of euphoria. Some always insisted on wearing a certain suit or wristband on a certain day, for sentimental or superstitious reasons.

Jordar Varcskel had the quirk of constantly inviting people to landing pads and then moving the meeting into his office. Alban hated that quirk.

Sighing as he viewed the platform, void of both Viceroy and Guest, Alban glanced at the chronometer on his wrist before setting on his way towards the Viceroy's office. He might be a tad late, but perhaps that would make for a more tasteful entrance. Besides, it wasn't his fault that it was such a long walk from the landing pad to the Viceroy's office.
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[Jordar Varcskel]

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Location: Fondor Starport
TAGS: Pravus Cruento | Alban Roble

He chuckled along with Pravus and climbed into the waiting speeder, he couldn't relate he wasnt a rich kid, but he did know a thing or two about being out of ones element. Once Pravus had climbed into the speeder they sped off toward the Administrative building, below he would be able to see the various districts of Fondor as well as the major industries and residential areas. One thing he would note is nearly everything dealth with the extraction and refining of metals used in shipbuilding primarily as quickly as the ride had begun they were soon climbing out of the speeder and heading toward his office.

Upon entering he found Director Alban Roble waiting in his office, as he had instructed security to allow him in. First order of business then introductions. "Well Pravus, allow me to introduce to you Director of Roble Manufacturing, Alban Roble. Alban, allow me to introduce Pravus Cruento . Alban is one of the major corporations that has a presence here on Fondor."

He glanced around to see if Elatar had made it, though to be fair he was usually late, hoping to make an entrance no doubt, mentall he shrugged at the through and offered the gentlemen to both take a seat if they wished.

 

[Pravus Cruento]

Pravus was impressed. Roble Manufacturing was one of the most prestigious corporations in the galaxy. And here Pravus was, standing in front of Alban Roble himself. The man made flesh. He tried not to blush or seem nervous. But he couldn't help it. In certain circles, and the ones that Cruento Family Holdings moved in, the Roble name was legend. Pravus nodded.

"Excellency, thank you for the introduction. Mr Roble, it is a privilege beyond measure to make your acquaintance. Your name is legend on Challon. The men of Coruscant speak of you in the highest regard."

Prav was sounding an idiot. Here he was, a 30 year old man acting like an actual child. Stuff it. He didn't care. He was meeting a hero.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a data stub.

"My introduction and credentials." He offered them to Alban. The data would include his acquisitions, the business manifesto he needed to declare for various organizations and act as a C.V of sorts. It also proved he had no outstanding criminal convictions.

Quite important, that part.


Alban Roble Jordar Varcskel