Private Freight and Fortune

[Ra'a'mah]

Ra'a'mah read the summary twice.

Not because it was difficult to understand, but because people who built themselves honestly from modest beginnings were rarer than those who inherited power and pretended they had forged it. Farming stock. Military discipline. Injury. Reinvention. Salvage into industry. Personal loss carried without spectacle. Influence earned one practical decision at a time.

That interested her more than titles ever did.

She considered the best setting for such a meeting. Not a gala. Not a public reception where too many eyes mistook noise for importance. Not a station lounge full of listeners pretending not to listen.

Naboo.

Civilized, discreet, and elegant without needing to announce itself.

Her office was private, efficient, and carefully chosen to reveal only what she wished revealed.

The message she sent was concise.

---

Mr. Dashiell,

Your name has crossed my desk more than once, and always attached to something built rather than merely acquired. I tend to respect that distinction.

You have navigated agriculture, military service, recovery, salvage, and corporate expansion with a degree of resilience many speak of, and few demonstrate. It suggests a man who understands both cost and momentum.

If your schedule permits, I would like to invite you to meet with me on Naboo.

My office is in Theed, where privacy is easier to secure than on most worlds, and conversation can proceed without unnecessary interruption. I believe there may be areas of mutual interest regarding logistics, regional influence, and opportunities best discussed directly rather than through intermediaries.

No ceremony is required. Merely a candid conversation between two people who understand that movement, whether of goods, capital, or power, is rarely accidental.

If agreeable, send your preferred arrival window, and accommodations will be arranged.

Ra'a'mah Numare

---

She reviewed it once, then sent it without embellishment. A man like Judah Dashiell would likely trust plain competence more than polished flattery.

Judah Dashiell

 

[Judah Dashiell]

Eyebrow raised when he had read the message. An odd one to receive. Even odder when there was a request to meet on Naboo. Someone operating under the nose of the High Republic? Not that they had many regulations. For the most part he had been ignored and business went on quietly in the background. Too wrapped up with their Jedi concerns and the Sith seemingly living in their borders.

All the better in his eyes.

Roughly a week later he had carefully followed the coordinates given to the office. Grand and in the style typical of Naboo architecture, it fit right into the surrounding landscape. Something anyone would pass by if they happen to walk or drive past. All the more intriguing to himself but he understood the need for discretion.

Dressed simply in a tan suit, the old salvager entered the building, stepping into the polished lobby. Footsteps echoed in the space as he approached the information desk, glancing around at the wide open atrium.

"Judah Dashiell, I'm to be expected."

Ra'a'mah ​

 

[Ra'a'mah]

The lobby was quiet in the way expensive places often were, where sound was softened rather than absent, and every polished surface suggested intention. Light spilled down from the high atrium above, catching pale stone, clean lines, and the subtle water features Naboo designers seemed incapable of resisting. Nothing shouted wealth. Everything implied it.

The man at the information desk looked up the moment Judah approached.

He was old, though age sat on him with the stubborn refusal of something not yet ready to concede. His hair had long since gone silver, trimmed with military neatness, and the lines in his face suggested decades spent in service rather than comfort. He stood straighter than many men half his age, shoulders squared, posture immaculate, dressed in dark formal attire understated enough to be overlooked by the careless and appreciated by the observant.

His eyes were sharp.

They moved once over Judah, not rudely, but thoroughly. Suit. Hands. Gait. Bearing. The quiet inventory of a man long accustomed to judging character before introductions were complete.

"Mr. Dashiell," he said, his voice deep and precise, touched by the kind of discipline that never entirely left certain men. "You are expected." A slight pause followed, just enough to imply that punctuality had been noted and approved of.

"I am Vincent." No surname was offered. None seemed necessary.

He stepped from behind the desk with measured efficiency and gestured toward a corridor beyond the atrium. "If you would follow me, Madam Numare is waiting for you."

There was no idle conversation as he led the way. His pace was steady, neither hurried nor slow, the stride of a man who believed movement should always have purpose. They passed through quiet halls lined with curated art, antique charts, and objects that appeared decorative until one considered how valuable they likely were.

At the end of the corridor, Vincent opened a set of carved doors with practiced ease.

Beyond them lay Ra'a'mah's office.

Tall windows overlooked the elegant skyline of Theed, where domes, terraces, and gardens rose among ribbons of water and stone. Shelves of ledgers, datacrons, and old bound volumes lined one wall. Another displayed a star map threaded with faintly shifting trade routes. The room was refined without excess, practical without losing beauty.

Ra'a'mah stood near the windows, already turned toward the entrance as Judah stepped inside. The light behind her caught the silver accents of her attire, elegant and functional in equal measure, every detail chosen with the same deliberate care she brought to her work. Her posture was relaxed, the ease of someone entirely at home in positions of influence, but there was a warmth beneath it that softened the room's formality.

"Mr. Dashiell," she said, a faint smile touching her lips as her eyes met his. "I'm glad you found your way up without difficulty." The tone carried a quiet friendliness, the kind that welcomed rather than evaluated.

Her gaze shifted briefly toward Vincent. "Thank you, Vincent." He inclined his head once, exact and dignified, before stepping back.

Ra gestured toward the seating arrangement near the low table, the motion smooth and inviting. "Please, sit."

Then, with a touch more warmth than formality required, she added, "Would you prefer caf, tea, something colder, or something stronger?"

Vincent was already moving toward the service console, the silent efficiency of long habit making the offer feel less like a courtesy and more like a natural extension of the space itself.

Ra's attention returned fully to Judah, her expression open, her voice carrying a hint of dry humor.

"I thought it better we speak somewhere neither of us has to pretend to enjoy the music."

Judah Dashiell

 

[Judah Dashiell]

"A pleasure to meet you Vincent."

Judah surmised Vincent was more bodyguard than mere desk attendant. Body language suggested the man was in the military at one point or potentially military adjacent. Not an unwise move on the part of Ra'a'mah .He had hired the two young gentlemen to serve as his liaisons and intermediary but neither had military experience. His security force on the other hand...

Stepping into the office, he was unsure on how to greet the other. Typically it was a handshake or kiss on the cheek yet he had been gestured to sit on a chair with a low table separating the furniture arrangement.

"Thank you for having me, its a pleasure. Caf will be fine."

Unbuttoning his suit jacket, Judah settled into the plush chair, gaze settling on Miss Ra'a'mah.

"I actually enjoy the opera and the symphony, but I understand the sentiment. Besides having a full blown conversation while others are trying to enjoy something they paid hard earned credits for is generally frowned upon. Can't say I would blame them"

Settling back into the chair, hands came to interlace in front of him as he waited on caf.

"So, how can I assist you?"

 

[Ra'a'mah]

Ra'a'mah allowed the faintest hint of amusement to touch her expression at his response, the warmth of it quiet rather than performative.

"I find I enjoy them as well," she said, her tone smooth and unhurried as her gaze held his easily, "concerts, opera, the occasional performance that reminds you the galaxy produces more than conflict and commerce, though I rarely have the time to indulge in them as often as I might prefer. Perhaps that is why I choose my conversations more carefully when I do."

Vincent moved without being asked. The service had already been prepared, and he carried it forward with practiced precision, placing a cup of caf before Judah first, then one before Ra. The motion was exact, unhurried, and entirely silent, the kind of efficiency that came from years of repetition done properly, and once finished, he stepped back just as smoothly, resuming his place without drawing attention to himself.

Ra lifted her cup briefly, more acknowledgment than habit, before setting it back down as her attention returned fully to Judah.

"I appreciate you coming, not because I require assistance, but because I prefer to understand the people whose names carry weight in the sectors I pay attention to," she continued, her posture relaxed even as the intent behind her words remained precise. "You have built something from salvage and persistence into something far more substantial, and that tends to interest me more than inherited success or loud reputations, particularly because it suggests a certain compatibility in how we approach opportunity."

She let that settle naturally before continuing.

"I wanted the chance to meet you without intermediaries, without contracts already drafted, and without either of us being forced into a position we did not choose, because those conditions tend to produce clearer conversations and, in my experience, better outcomes."

Her fingers rested lightly against the edge of the table as she continued.

"There are markets expanding in directions most people have not noticed yet, routes opening where old ones have become inefficient, and opportunities that benefit from quiet cooperation rather than public competition. I make it a habit to identify individuals who understand movement, value, and timing before those opportunities become crowded."

A brief pause followed, softer now but no less deliberate.

"New markets to explore, and, if approached correctly, profits to share."

She did not lean forward or press the matter, allowing the offer to remain exactly what it was intended to be.

A professional opening.

Judah Dashiell

 

[Judah Dashiell]

"Thank you Vincent."

Caf was placed before him as Ra'a'mah was speaking on her reasons for meeting him. In his mind her reasoning was part curiosity, part business idea he had yet to become privy to. Carefully he poured in creamer, gently stirring the liquid as he thought about her words. Judah wondered if she was trying to feel him out as some type of competition or was truly interested in getting to know him. Perhaps a little of both columns.

As far as he knew, his knowledge of the woman was nil. They didn't seem to run in any of the same circles nor could he find any information on business she ran. Could still be a legitimate business, Judah didn't know everyone and many operated in only certain sectors of the galaxy. Or she had turned to consulting or an other service where physical items wouldn't be a focus.

"You want to get to know me as leverage for future endeavors or are interested in more of a business expansion? If it is the first I am horribly boring and you will be upset at yourself for wasting your time. If it is the second then once I learn more about the opportunities I can decide better."

He paused to sip his caf.

"I tend to find these meetings are a mix of both. Always good to know who else is out and about in the galaxy." Setting his mug down, Judah looked at her and smiled. "So, what do you want to know first?"

 

[Ra'a'mah]

Vincent inclined his head slightly as the thanks was offered. "You're welcome, sir." The words were delivered with quiet precision before he stepped back, taking up a position near the door where he remained unobtrusive but present, the kind of stillness that suggested readiness rather than absence.

Ra'a'mah watched Judah over the rim of her cup as he spoke, allowing him the space to lay out his assumptions without interruption. There was no offense taken, no immediate correction offered, only a measured attention that suggested she had heard variations of the same question in different forms more times than she could easily count.

When he finished, her expression softened just enough to acknowledge the practicality of it.

"It is both," she said simply, her tone even and unembellished, as though there were no reason to pretend otherwise. "Leverage is rarely a matter of manipulation when handled correctly. It is a matter of understanding where interests align before they are forced to."

She set her cup down with the same controlled ease.

"And business expansion, at least the kind worth pursuing, tends to begin long before contracts are written."

A faint pause followed, not to create tension, but to allow clarity.

"I have been in this space for a long time, Mr. Dashiell," she continued, her gaze steady on his. "Long enough to have seen markets rise, fracture, consolidate, and rebuild themselves under different names with the same underlying patterns. I started with a single ship and more ambition than structure, moved through larger fleets when the Dominion still held influence, and later worked within organizations that preferred to call themselves coalitions rather than governments."

There was no pride in the words, only fact.

"Merchant fleets under the Metal Lords. Supply chains under the Free Worlds Coalition. My last public affiliation was with the Silver Jedi, though even then my focus remained on movement rather than ideology."

Her fingers rested lightly against the table as she continued.

"Since then, I have operated privately, which affords a certain… flexibility. Smaller shipments tend to be my preference, as they draw less attention and allow for greater control, though I retain access to larger infrastructure when scale becomes necessary through the Protectorate's networks."

A brief pause followed, her attention never leaving him.

"So when I say I am interested in understanding you, it is not out of idle curiosity," Ra said, her tone calm but precise. "It is because I have learned that the most profitable opportunities rarely appear in isolation. They emerge where two capable operations overlap in a way that neither could fully exploit alone."

The faintest hint of a smile returned, restrained and professional.

"You are not boring," she added, not as flattery, but as correction. "You are consistent," she said, her tone unchanged. "Your operations tend to reflect that, which is considerably more valuable."

She leaned back slightly, giving him the same space he had offered her.

"As for what I want to know first," Ra continued, her voice steady, "I find it more efficient to start with how you prefer to operate when variables begin to shift. Growth tends to reveal that more clearly than stability ever does."

Her gaze held his.

"When something doesn't go according to plan, Mr. Dashiell, do you adjust the plan or the objective?"

Judah Dashiell

 

[Judah Dashiell]

Listening, sipping his caf, Judah was highly amused. He was hoping the fact didn't show on his face, given the woman was serious. Such small faux paus often went sideways and he didn't need any type of intergalactic incidents. Ra'a'mah continued on about her accomplishments, setting a scene to where he didn't quite know where they were headed.

Caf cup set on the saucer, regarding the question.

"So why am I being interviewed for a job I do not remember applying for?" He paused, settling back against the chair once more. "Getting to know one another is one thing. This feels more interrogation than friendship building."

 

[Ra'a'mah]

For the first time since the conversation had begun, Ra'a'mah looked genuinely caught by the observation, not offended, not defensive, simply aware in that immediate, unmistakable way of someone realizing they had let habit steer a discussion farther into familiar territory than they had intended. A faint breath slipped out of her, quieter than a sigh, and the corner of her mouth curved with a restrained, almost private amusement at herself as her fingers loosened around her cup before she set it back on the table with deliberate care, as though physically stepping away from the direction she had allowed the conversation to drift.

"I spend a great deal of my life evaluating people, organizations, risks, opportunities, and patterns," she said, her tone softening in a way that felt intentional rather than careless, the formality easing without disappearing. "And after enough years of doing that, it becomes very easy to forget that most people do not consider being professionally assessed over caf a relaxing social experience." The humor in the admission settled between them with a quiet, unforced ease, and she let it breathe before continuing, "And unfortunately, you happen to be someone whose operations, reputation, and history make him very easy to evaluate seriously."

Her gaze held his, steady but no longer sharpened by scrutiny, replaced instead by something closer to simple honesty. "But you're right. This was meant to be a conversation, not an acquisition review." The faintest trace of amusement touched her expression again, subtle but unmistakably real. "If I were actually attempting to recruit you for something, I assure you the setting would be considerably less pleasant."

She leaned back slightly then, easing some of the invisible pressure she had unconsciously brought into the room, and the atmosphere shifted with her, loosening without losing its clarity. "The truth is, I don't spend much time around people who understand the realities of operating large-scale logistics and trade without immediately turning every discussion into posturing, negotiation, or politics. Most either want something, fear something, or try to prove something." Her voice remained calm, measured, but warmer now, the edges less rigid. "You, on the other hand, built your operation from almost nothing and kept it alive long enough for it to become significant, which generally means there is an actual person underneath the title rather than just a corporate structure wearing one."

A slight tilt of her head followed, thoughtful rather than assessing. "I was interested in meeting that person." The words landed simply, without embellishment or manipulation, and she glanced toward her untouched caf with a small, self-aware exhale. "And somewhere along the way, I defaulted back into the habits that built most of my career. That is my failing, not yours."

The room felt different after that, not dramatically, but enough that the conversation no longer resembled a carefully managed assessment chamber disguised as hospitality. She let that shift settle before continuing, her tone carrying a thread of warmth that hadn't been present earlier. "So allow me to correct the mistake before you decide I'm impossible to have a normal conversation with."

She considered him for a moment, the pause deliberate, and then, almost as if testing the weight of her own restraint, she asked, "What is the single worst business decision you've ever made that didn't immediately destroy you?"

Judah Dashiell

 

[Judah Dashiell]

Judah blinked slowly. He had expected some of the perfunctory small talk before this glorified job interview. The normal how were the children, how about the grandchildren, his thoughts on the various states of the galaxy. Maybe a little good natured shade thrown at the latest governmental battle for more territory.

Not...this. Even with his comment he supposed this was how the meeting was going to go. Not the worst but not quite what he expected. Best just to play along at this point.

Taking another sip of his caf, he thought about the question for a long moment.

"Not, how do I put this, forcefully aligning my products with various governments in the early stages. Would have grown the company quicker but I find governments fickle. Flush with credits one moment, collapsing under the weight of their war crimes the next. Slow and steady, and perhaps less known, is fine but I would have changed my approach in the early years."

 

[Ra'a'mah]

Ra'a'mah took a sip from her cup, thinking it over before nodding. "Yeah, that's probably a smarter thing to say than most folks would manage."

Her voice was just normal now. Not judging.

"I've seen enough governments come and go. They rise up, fall apart, change into something else, or just vanish to understand why you wouldn't want to bet everything on one."

She almost smiled.

"Especially when half of them think they're gonna last forever, right up until they don't."

The humor faded, leaving something quieter behind.

"I think that's the real difference. If you build something yourself, you see how fast it can all fall apart."

Her hand rested on her caf mug.

"Went the other way myself," she admitted. "Spent years tied to governments, movements, causes. The Dominion. The Metal Lords. The Free Worlds Coalition. The Silver Jedi. They all felt important back then. Some did amazing stuff."

Another shrug.

"Most are gone now."

She didn't sound bitter. Just stating what was.

"The ships are still around. The people are. The connections stayed. Everything else wasn't nearly as solid as it looked."

For the first time, she seemed okay with the conversation, just sitting there, not going anywhere.

"Out of curiosity," she said, a hint of a smile returning, "what government taught you that? Most people I know have one story behind an answer like that."

Judah Dashiell

 

[Judah Dashiell]

"All of them. No story, just common sense. Governments look for power. I look for long term growth. The two ideas do not intersect or live in harmony with one another. It will happen to all of them. Look at the Galactic Alliance. In their hunt for power they became bloated and run by monks, not leaders. A fascinating disaster to watch from the outside."

Picking up his caf mug, he took another sip, relaxing against the back of the leather.

"So what is your next interrogative question?"

 

[Ra'a'mah]

For the first time since they'd started, Ra'a'mah went quiet for a different reason. She studied him for a long moment, gaze dropping to the caf in her hands as a soft breath escaped her. It was a mix of a sigh and a quiet laugh at herself.

"You know," she said, fingers turning the mug absently, "I think you just answered the question I should've asked myself before inviting you here." She met his eyes again, her expression more open than it had been. "I've been interviewing you," she admitted, without any defensiveness. Just stating a fact. "At some point, I forgot I asked you here to meet Judah, not assess a shipping company."

A small, genuine smile touched her lips. "So let's fix that." She leaned back, the formality in the room fading. "No more questions. No more evaluations." She paused briefly. "Tell me something you enjoy that has nothing to do with freight, governments, or money. I'd rather leave knowing the person than the businessman."

Judah Dashiell

 

[Judah Dashiell]

Brows furrowed slightly. Judah now wondered if she had him mistaken for another person. Picking up the caf mug again, he thought about it for a long moment. He suspected either she had been bluffing and really had zero idea what he did, or the woman across from him got him confused for another being in the galaxy who ran a shipping company. Maybe someone who looked like him? That was an interesting thought.

“I don’t run a shipping company.”

Better to address it now before she was looking to have cargo hauled across the ‘verse.

Now they were on to hobbies. A small smile touched his features. Women, for whatever reason, were always questioning his hobbies. Never seemed to be a subject with men. The old salvager wanted to laugh, especially considering how bad this conversation had gone in the past.

“Fishing. Great way to relax.” And escape. “What about yourself?”

Ra'a'mah

 

[Ra'a'mah]

Ra'a'mah inclined her head ever so slightly.

"My mistake."

There was no attempt to defend the assumption or redirect the conversation. If she had misunderstood, then she had misunderstood. The correction was accepted as easily as it had been given.

A faint smile appeared as he mentioned fishing.

"I can certainly see the appeal. There's something to be said for finding a place where the rest of the galaxy can't ask anything of you for a few hours."

She considered the question for a moment before answering.

"I like to tinker."

The answer came simply, without fanfare.

"Ships. Machinery. Equipment. Whatever happens to be in front of me. I've always found satisfaction in understanding how something works, taking it apart, and putting it back together again. Sometimes it goes back together better than it started."

A quiet chuckle escaped her.

"I've also been known to lose entire afternoons because I convinced myself I could improve something that was functioning perfectly well before I touched it."

Judah Dashiell

 

[Judah Dashiell]

"Sounds like you would do well in the salvage realm. You're welcome to pick through my junkyards anytime you like and take your next project home."

Despite Ra'a'mah thinking he owned a shipping company and not a salvage company, and the fact that the meeting had gone horrible thus far, he still had manners and a common sense to keep lines of business open. He could sit in silence. Or he could ask a question. Question might make thing end mercifully sooner.

"What exactly does your company do again?"

 

[Ra'a'mah]

The offer earned a more genuine smile from Ra'a'mah, particularly given her newly corrected understanding of what Judah actually did for a living.

"I may take you up on that. Fair warning, though, if you let me loose in a junkyard, you may regret not establishing limits beforehand."

His question was considerably easier to answer than some of those they had exchanged earlier, and she settled back comfortably before responding.

"Import and export, primarily. I move goods from where they're abundant to where they're needed, whether that's equipment, machinery, raw materials, food, medical supplies, or something considerably more specialized. Sometimes I'm moving ordinary commercial cargo. Other times I'm finding something difficult to acquire for a client and arranging everything necessary to get it into their hands."

A small trace of amusement entered her expression.

"So, ironically, while I don't run a shipping company either, quite a lot of what I do involves making certain things get shipped."

She glanced briefly toward his caf before returning her attention to him. "Your salvage operation could actually overlap with my business more than I realized. Restored components, machinery, rare parts, things you've recovered that are useful but don't have an immediate buyer. Finding markets for those sorts of things is much closer to what I actually do."

Her smile turned faintly self-deprecating.

"Which probably would have been useful information for me to remember before confidently turning you into the owner of an entirely different company."

Judah Dashiell

 

[Judah Dashiell]

"So more....warehousing? Third party distributor type situation? Shuffling the goods under three shells."

A small smile at his own joke as he set down the caf mug down on the small table between them. A shuffling of goods, one of those jobs in the 'verse like salvage. Thankless and often overlooked. His favorite in his opinion, since it left a large swath of opportunity for a handful of people. It meant credits were always plentiful.

"It would have been helpful yet the point still stands, you're more than welcomed to visit any of my salvage yards. Lots of wreckage from battles lately, given the nature of the galaxy."

Ra'a'mah ​

 

[Ra'a'mah]

Ra'a'mah gave a quiet laugh at the comparison, inclining her head as she considered it. "Something like that, though considerably less interesting when you remove the shells." She reached for her own caf. "I buy goods where they're plentiful, move them where they're needed, and sell them where they're not. Warehousing, distribution, logistics, procurement. Sometimes I arrange the transportation myself, sometimes somebody else handles that portion. It depends on the cargo and where it's going."

She took a sip before adding, "It isn't particularly glamorous, but glamour has never been a requirement for making credits." There was a trace of amusement in her expression. In some respects, it was probably why she'd remained in the business for so long. There was always another market, another shortage, another world producing something another desperately needed.

His renewed invitation to the salvage yards earned a more interested look. "Then I think I'll take you up on that sometime." Ra enjoyed tinkering far too much for unrestricted access to a salvage yard not to appeal to her. "Though I make no promises about what I'll walk away with. Give me enough broken equipment and time, and I'll inevitably convince myself I can make something useful out of it."

Her smile softened slightly as she lifted her caf again. "Thank you, Judah. I mean that. I'd enjoy seeing one of your yards sometime." Perhaps it was the first genuinely easy subject they'd stumbled across since sitting down together, and Ra wasn't inclined to ruin it by overthinking things. "You know what you're looking at better than I would, and I'm curious what you consider worth saving versus what actually belongs in the scrap heap."

Judah Dashiell