Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Marquisade masquerade

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Eriadu was perhaps not the most hospitable or most clean and beautiful of the planets in the mid and outer rim, heck it was something far from that with its mighty industrial complex and the rather dogmatic, stubborn and one might even say complete authoritarian rule it was under. However, there was great contrast to be found between the various noble houses and political factions that vied for control over the planet and its outlying system. House Nargath was one of those houses, though supporting the rule of the Tarkin family, even having close nit ties with their bloodline, the Nargath were less of a military force and more of an elagant mercantile dynasty, prospering greatly throughout practically every conflict which had managed to reach the Sewenna system and some might've even whispered that where the Tarkin family held supreme political and military power, the House of Nargath was the one holding it all together through the sheer wealth they possessed.

As expected, while the planet itself was seemingly a cesspool of pollution and industrial waste, the palace complex that acted as the Nargath family's homestead was filled with lush green, exotic plants from all over the galaxy and filled with the most splendid marble, electrum and other magnificently expensive materials and trinkets. It was here in said grandeur and prideful decadence, that the younger brother of the House of Nargath true leader, Willhuff Nargath, celebrated his twentieth year as substitute head of the House, eager to showcase his accomplishments to all of the galaxy's finest nobility, no matter their background or affiliation, playing smartly on Eriadu's neutral stance to keep himself and his house out of firing range.

The real head of the house; Credius Arcosius Nargath usually did not attend to these frivolous occassions, mostly occupied with either his dealings with the house Tarkin or his more covert operations under the moniker of Darth Halcyon within the Sith Empire. This time however, the Marquis of the House Nargath finally decided to show up for once and he did not do so unnoticed.

While most noble guests of the party arrived either by carriage from the guest complex, after having flocked in from all over the galaxy days prior to the party, Credius did not do such a thing, arriving in a more spectacular fashion, as he landed his Valkan Dagger near the front yard, ordering one of the Valet droids to bring it to the family's ship hangar. With his half long silver gray hair flowing down to one side of his neck, a meticulously shaven visage and piercing silvery white eyes with an amber hue looked over the few guests which were entering the grand halls of the palace through the front, letting out a somber sigh in disgust of how ignorant and suprisingly oblivious these people could be, thinking their money was what made the galaxy turn.

Greeting some of the members of the local nobility which he knew from his days in the academy and others whom he had meet during his travels or through his more overt dealings, Credius quickly found his way to one of the service droids, taking a glass of Alderanian wine from the tray before walking over to his younger brother and elderly mother. "Quite the feast, my dear brother...though one might say such trifle shows of wealth and luxury might rub some people the wrong way," Credius' eyes scanned the room, darting from portbelly laden patriarchs to dove-like damsels. Though he too liked to indulge in luxury, as obviously seen from the way he always presented himself, Credius always tried to avoid crossing the thin line into opulence and sheer decadence. "So...you've got people and envoys from the corellian confederation...my my, even from the Core confederation and the Mandalorians...I see you aren't one to forget the importance of forging allegiances through business and leisure all at once. Mother has thought you well." With those words, the tall man made a courteous bow to the elderly woman sitting on a chair next to Willhuff Nargath, gracefully kissing her hand with a slight grin on his face. "Shall I intermingle with this rabble a bit?"
 
Desmond snorted at the grandiose showcase of splendor. It was overrated and all in all, distasteful. Desmond couldn't help but feel like these people here had never known any of the hardships that made life, life. They lived sheltered hollow existences that was fueled by power and cash. It was enough to make the Chiss hurl. But, while he was here he couldn't stop himself from enjoying the party, especially if it was on someone else's dime.

Desmond had forged a couple of invitations and now with a rented suit to match stood among the wealthiest of the wealthy. His plan was to rob them blind, but he quickly found himself locked in a drinking bout with his own self. He was busy with his third glass of Tarisian (A planet he'd never even heard of) champagne when he spied a lovely senator from the Corellian confederation. He was about to approach her when a beeping in his ear grabbed his attention. A series of electronic beeps brought him out of his buzz and he grunted in irritation. Quickly excusing himself to the restroom Desmond found a quiet place to peak freely.

"What is it? I'm working..." He spoke to the ear comm.

From what I can see, it looks like you were about to hit on that senator with the large bosom

"From what I can see," Desmond mocked under his breath in a tone befitting a child.

Just get back to work you piece of turd!

Desmond sighed and prepared a rather facetious response, but was interrupted by a knock at the bathroom door. The Tin Can was right anyways. Desmond had a job to do and he wasn't going to get it done drinking and cavorting with the rich. Desmond farted in the bathroom, if he couldn't have any fun he was sure to ruin someone elses's day to. "Let the rich bastard bask in that for awhile!" He thought mischievously to himself

[member="Lulu"]
[member="Credius Nargath"]
 
Despite appearances if you caught Cid in his element, the tall and broadly muscular man cleaned up painfully well. Even managed a polite and courteous smile, a deep but soft laugh, and a firm handshake -- but not too firm. Everything in balance. A nice, cleaned and pressed black suit for the occasion, white button-up shirt, and slacks with a break at just the right place. Why if you'd never met Cid before you would take him more for an entrepreneurial man than a galactic blacksmith of sorts. Then again, he wasn't strapped for credits and knew plenty of renown barbers and tailors. In his case it was both what he knew and who he knew.

And he hated every minute of it.

How did these people live pretending to like one another every single day? Sure, some of them might actually be friends. Hell, some of them might even love their partners. Still, he wasn't placing wagers on this being the galaxy's collection of most upstanding and genuine people.

Another laugh, another smile. "Well, I try not to boast," Cid's voice carried as he replied to a well-to-do couple that knew of some of his work.

Why was Cid here? Because despite sharing practically nothing in common with any of them, they paid well. Cid's ship didn't run on rainbows and sunshine. Took fuel. Lots of it. And repairs. And he had employees to pay, material to buy... Oh, and probably a bounty hunter that'd love to haul his butt back to the Sith Empire. Fortunately the people after him seemed choosy on who they sent. They still caused plenty of collateral damage. All of this to say he could use the credits. Besides, the rich were the ones asking for some of the most ridiculous creations -- and Cid loved a challenge.

Build a few impossible things, or even have an apprentice build some very possible things with the right craftsmanship and the wealthy -- as could be seen all around him -- merrily crowed about the latest thing they had built in their honor, or maybe in honor of someone they fancied. Didn't matter to him long as no one was getting hurt. Except perhaps the people that needed food to eat, but what did these wine-sipping fools know about that?

"Excuse me," with a slight bow Cid stepped away to visit a table with a few items laid about for consumption. He took the opportunity to replace an empty flute with a full one, but otherwise only looked at the things on the table as if he were trying to decide. Anything to not catch someone's eye that'd beckon him over to chat. How much longer could he take it? Couldn't someone just "off-handedly" mention they were looking for something to be made that he "just happened" to hear? Damn people playing coy, holding their breath like they were testing their own haughty ability to restrain themselves.

Tag: [member="Credius Nargath"] | [member="Desmond C'artyom"]​
 
Busy conversing with some of the more distinguished guests at the grand Nargath palace, Credius found himself to be in rather high company, but could not care less for these people his younger brother had invited. They were all just a bunch of people who thought that they'd be able to buy the Eriadu Ascendancy's loyalty or assistance to their cause through political might or wealth, which considering the fact that House Nargath owned probably one of the oldest companies in the galaxy and if necessary could buy themselves a fleet of warships without batting an eye, was a rather redundant attempt at currying favor. The marquis let out a sigh, took a sip from his wine and noticed a man with blue skin and fiery red eyes move through the crowd, rather surprised he'd even see a Chiss among these people, let alone on this planet directed by probably one of the most xenophobic beliefs since the days of the galactic empire, yet he didn't care...not now. What he did care for, was the fact that that Chiss looked suspicious for other reasons, with both his clothing and behavior so unfitting at a grand feast like that.

Credius could only tap a servant on the shoulder and ask the young waiter to check up on the Chiss for a moment, keen on knowing what this man was up to, before mingling with the guests again. Alas, it was as if the force itself did not desire to leave the marquis in peace, when he could notice someone else who didn't seem to fit in, but not in a bad way this time. He noticed a rougher looking man, though properly dressed, still somewhat out of his element and seemingly somewhat annoyed with the sheer amount of pointless decadence surrounding the place and its guests.

Calmly, Credius made his way to the same table, managing to acquire himself a glass of the finest wine available in the process. Nonchalantly leaning against the table, the marquis simply let out a soft, yet dry sounding chuckle. "Most of these people come here to try and gain someone's favor, garner political or even military support for one of their little schemes, plots and plans to gain some influence, some weight in their respective fields," Taking a sip from his glass, the tall man glanced into Cid's general direction. "You however, don't look like most of them...you look more like someone itching to do something, yearning for a purpose. So you interest me...do tell, what does someone who doesn't fit among nobility and politicians want from those people in the end? Money, power...or is it simply work?"

[member="Desmond C'artyom"]|[member="Damascus Cid"]|[member="Vandar Tarkin"]
 
Cid turned his head just slightly to the side to catch a look at the man that'd taken up a spot near him. The chuckle had been what had drawn his gaze, and what the man had to say. From what he could see, this one was certainly well-off. Hell, the man looked familiar too. Must have meant he was someone on a short list Cid had bothered to research before he'd attended this wonderful events. Would probably only take a minute or two for him to figure it out; it was on the tip of his tongue.

"Nothing simple about it," he replied calmly as a piece of fruit was slowly retrieved and placed on a small plate to continue the ruse of why Cid was at the table. "Not really interested in trying to earn the most credits, or amass social connections. Comes with the territory, but what I am to do is create some of the finest work the galaxy has ever seen. Work that will last generations."

With a soft exhale of breath, Cid turned his head a bit more to get a better look at the man without openly staring at him. "I don't want to building a building, construct a starship, or even fashion a monument of power. I want to make the best. Something that won't be forgotten in the next ten thousand years." With a deep hum within Cid's large frame, he contemplated what to say next. "And getting work for my apprentices, here, in building personal tributes is just a necessary stepping stone to making sure I have what that takes." Money, resources, connections to get licenses or permission to restricted locations... He didn't like it, but he didn't need to like it.

"What about you?" Cid set the small plate aside after he'd manage to accumulate three pieces of fruit on it. "You have the appearance of someone that fits perfectly," the thought left unfinished with an inflection on 'appearance.' Credius seemed to stand apart from the people he found himself surrounded by. So what was his objective attending the party?

Tag: [member="Credius Nargath"] | [member="Desmond C'artyom"]​
 
Listening calmly to what the man was saying, Credius simply could not hide the joy he found in listening to the man's reasoning and philosofy, understanding exactly that which was being said. "I see, it's not the product, the producer or the design that matters, it's what it results into," Placing his empty glass upon the table, the Eriadu native made a courteaous bow towards the engineer. "Forgive me my manners, I should introduce myself to someone who's brilliance and ambitions are second to none. My name is Credius Arcosius Nargath, Marquis of the House of Nargath and owner of the Eriadu Manufacturing shipyards."

Pausing for a moment, Credius knew this was probably a lot to sink in, after all the party they were attending had been hosted the entire time by Credius' younger brother and many within even the ascendancy dared to forget that the real power within House Nargath was not Willhuff Nargath, but the actual Marquis who simply allowed Willhuff to preside as the curator over the family's more public assets. "Letting my brother have control over most of our assets has not been a bad thing, he's a savy businessman and truly a wonderful entrepeneur, but sadly he's also a bit of a weakling, always wanting to impress and curry favors with others, hoping to his better judgment to constantly please our aging mother's desires, never thinking what might benefit himself more than what may benefit the family," Letting out a soft chuckle, Credius stretched out his hand towards Cid with a feint smile on his face. "If my brother had half the insight that you have, he might've been twice as strong in spirit as he is now. You think about leaving a legacy that can withstand the ages, he simply thinks of the now."

Motioning Cid to follow him, Credius walked along the side of the partying people, avoiding to bump into them, walking through a corridor that seemed to run on forever until he finally opened a door to reveal what looked like a personal working space, with a large, expensive looking desk made out of Worryk tree wood, shelves filled with numerous books of different ages and topics, ranging from more obscure topics such as the force and some old wars in the distant past, but also books about warfare, architecture and design. it seemed that the man had a variety of interests, but what possibly popped out the most was a single small floating, electrum sphere atop the desk. "You want work and I need excellence...it may very well be that our interests may align more than we might hope."
 
Renn quietly watched over the hall on a balcony, he would spot the two and walk down the steps. Sitting near the two with his back turned, he quietly listened. At the palace, he was hired to be security for the gatherings, he was being payed well. Took a glass from a server walking by, and drank quietly, listening to them.
 
Marquis Credius Arcosius Nargath? Cid did know that name, and it had been on the list. But there was something else he felt that was familiar about Credius. Still couldn't place it. Not that it mattered at that moment. The owner of Eriadu Manufacturing shipyards seemed to have taken an interest in what the broad man had said. Now, Cid wasn't going to get his hopes up this meant the wealthy man understood a damn thing Cid had said, but maybe he had. Maybe there was something to be gained by coming to the party, and it wasn't some self-aggrandizing statue.

When Credius offered his hand, Cid took it with a respectful bow of his head. "Damascus Cid of the Empyrean Forge." Might as well properly introduce himself as well since the man had been kind enough to do so earlier. Just had to wait for the right moment.

Of course, the minor detail Cid hadn't quite put his finger on yet was Credius' alter ego. It was the aura of a Sith Lord that felt so familiar to the celestial blacksmith. One that may or may not know of the other Sith Lords that would be grateful to get their claws sunk back into Cid. They kept the fact they'd lost him -- he'd escaped -- secret to avoid loss of face, but there was no telling who might know what about him.

"Not everyone can aspire to build generational legacies," he shrugged slightly. "Otherwise people wouldn't recognize the greatness when it finally landed in their laps." He didn't think less of 'normal' folk. Might have thought less about the wealthy wanting statues made in their image, but that was different. They weren't Exar Kun; that thing was getting tossed in a landfill within a few years of their passing or that of their children. Gaudy thing. Now if they were Exar Kun, even Cid would be happy to build that statue; man was a legend. Granted, usually only Sith appreciated the legacy, but Cid grew up surrounded by the black soul buggers and heard countless stories.

The Marquis suddenly invited Cid for a walk with a wave. Well, the man seemed to have an interest in his work. Made it sound like he got 'it' about Cid. Seemed to have wealth and prestige above anyone else present. Be exceptionally stupid not to follow along and see what was on the man's mind. Worst case, he figured it'd be commissioning a gaudy statue.

When they passed into the study, Cid's eyes quickly took in the room. Not so much the full breadth of subjects the man had collected in book form, but he got a good appreciation for what the Marquis liked to surround himself with at least.

Cid stood a few feet from Credius when he addressed his guest. His dark brown eyes shifting from the electrum sphere to the Marquis once more. "You surround yourself with some exceptional materials, Marquis Nargath," Cid acknowledged, "I suspect what you're seeking is even more exceptional?" A sphere of metal was a nice decorative piece. The wood desk spoke volumes of station and aesthetic. Books a plenty filled the mind. These are all treasures, but Cid suspected what the man wanted was more than something for his study.

Tag: [member="Credius Nargath"] | [member="Desmond C'artyom"] | [member="Renn Garrick"]​
 
When they walked out, Renn waited a couple of minutes and then got up and followed. He was going along the rooftops, out of site, he watched them enter the house. He used metal claws to hold on to the wall, listening to them from the window.

He quietly sat outside the study with the window opened enough to listen to them. He would be curious during the conversation, but he would remain in the shadows and quiet with a hand on his pistol.
 
"Mr Damascus Sid, do you know what this material is?" Credius touched the hovering sphere of electrum lightly with one finger, a small spark of blue electricity seemed to flow through the object upon the moment the man's finger touched the material, showing some form of electromagnetic field covering the orb, but perhaps more surprisingly was that the material rippled like water, a liquid metal...without heat, without losing its color, while it should've been in a solid state at room temperature. "The electrum inside had wonderful properties in this cold and liquid state, able to absorb and dissipate electricity from the outside, but also acting as an extremely high conductor able to keep electricity stored within itself."

Letting out a chuckle, the tall man combed his hand through his gray hair and smiled. "I have acquired this marvel of an electric field ten years ago along one of my travels and even till this day I have not been able to figure out how it works or how to recreate it. Wether it is some sort of ancient alchemy, a wonderfully intricate technological marvel...I simply wish to know how to recreate it, so that I can find an application for it," Knowing fully well that the man in front of him wanted to create a legacy, Credius wondered if Cid would think this to be beneath him, but than again, this was but a simple test, a simple first experience to truly meassure the man's worth and value within his own field of expertise. The real work would come afterwards, but this was more a personal interest and one which Credius thought to be a suitable test for someone seemingly as ambitious as Cid. "Just imagine the benefits of such an application both in the world of transport of metals, art and many other things. To create something larger than life, one must first experiment with the smaller things after all. "

The marquis would calmly walk towards the windows of his study and stare into the darkness of the evening, his white eyes momentarily turning bright and fiery amber-colored, slowly turning towards the one hidden within the shadows, showing a sinister grin before turning around again, his eyes back to their silvery white color, as he looked at Cid to see what reaction the man would have to this offered task. "Perhaps we should have a drink to add to this conversation," opening a cabinet, the marquis took out two crystal glasses and a caraffe containing a strong, somewhat bitter smelling caramel-colored liquid, putting the two glasses on the desk and filling them with it before turning to Cid with a glass held within an outstretched hand. "Whatever you might require, be it people, materials, anything you ask can be delivered, cost is no issue...now, would you be interested to embark upon this little test?"

[member="Damascus Cid"] [member="Renn Garrick"]
 
Realizing he had been spotted Renn he decided to make his presence known to both of them. He opened the window when they turned their backs and sat on the windowsill. Looking at them he thought how valuable the material could be, he had no intent of stealing it just observing it. His hands would be by his side and he looked as he would make no offensive move against them.

OOC: if you don’t want to me to respond as quick just say so and I’ll slow down
 
"Electrum," Cid replied. Frankly, only visually analyzing the ball of metal from far, that was about all the Marquis could expect. If this was some ultra pure form that only he had in his possession then the man was just going to have to cut to the chase, and stop expecting people to be telepathic. Universe was full of strange powers; Cid didn't feel particular Wizard-like, however. Fortunately, it wasn't some leading question meant to lord over Cid. The Marquis didn't even waste time getting to the point. Hell, if the man kept that up this was going to be a far better night than Cid had begun to fear.

What the man seemed to be describing was a super conductive, liquid metal also possessed a high capacitance. Essentially the Holy Grail of energy transmission and storage. Which led Cid to naturally wonder what the catch of this particular ball of electrum was. And the Marquis wanted to know how to make more of it? Fortunately, Cid didn't feel like insulting the man so he refrained from something snide, yet jovial such as 'first, invent a time machine.'

"I may not look it," the broad shouldered man admitted, "but hitting things with a hammer isn't the only thing I do." Cid smiled over at Credius, not at all insulted by anything said or done. He was joking at what some mistook him for at times elsewhere. "Something like that has endless applications. Even some of the most elaborate technological accomplishments of our age are still limited by the physical limitations of its individual components. That," Cid pointed at the sphere, "has none of those problems. Its limitations are defined by everything around it." The rate in which energy transferred in to or out of that sphere would be defined my the physical properties of the wires used to connect to it. In a perfect world, no energy loss, no delay in energy transferal. Maybe the thing didn't even suffer from energy degradation. They need some precision equipment to measure radiant energy around the metal to determine that.

"That needs to be studied." Whatever had made it must have consisted of an insane amount of energy. Cid couldn't imagine something so perfect -- if he was right from just what the Marquis described -- happened to be made in a pool of sludge or on some barren rock. There were going to be serious hurdles preventing creating more of it. Enormous costs. But used appropriately those costs would be repaid in full. Long as you didn't use it to power your oven. "I happen to possess equipment that might be useful in understanding the properties and makeup of that electrum, if you would interested."

He stood patiently by as Credius had taken to staring out the nearby window. A slight nod followed the offer of a drink just as soon as the man turned around.

Cid stepped forward to accept the glass Credius held out in offer. The bitter smell didn't bother him in the slightest.

As he stood there in that moment the Marquis offered endless resources to the examination of the electrum. It struck Cid as a little odd how the man offered this to him. If so much was at his command, why wait ten years? The Marquis had taken a liking to Cid since they met in the common area, but... Had Credius been waiting that entire time to find someone 'worthy' of this offer? Well that was one way to stroke a man's ego.

"There is equipment, and people that could be beneficial," Cid replied with careful deliberation.

But there was the matter of some guy crouching at the window now, and that wasn't how any normal person entered a conversation. Cid lifted his glass up to his lips to let the alcoholic contents touch his lower lip for a moment as his eyes drifted to the side at the unknown figure. The drink fell from his lip without passing between them. He'd wait a few moments for telltale signs the alcohol was more than it appeared -- numbing of the lip, perhaps. In the meantime, find out if this third party had any intentions other than staring at them. Both or either the Marquis of this figure could be here to drag Cid back to the Sith Empire; a man always had to be on his guard. Hopefully Credius' house wouldn't get ruined because some bounty hunter had tracked the alchemical smithy down.

Tag: [member="Credius Nargath"] | [member="Renn Garrick"]​
 
Renn would walk in like it was his own home. He looked at Cid and curiously.

"You're [member="Damascus Cid"], I am a fan of your work."

He would grab the bottle and cut the top off taking a swig. He would act off to make himself seem like less of a threat and so they don't just draw weapons on him.

"Of course, I would have to anything you did." Looks over at [member="Credius Nargath"], "And you're Credius Nargath, a lot of money is on your head. I'm not here to claim it don't worry. I'm just here to learn, and make friends."

He would take another swig of the drink. He would look at it disgusted and tossed it out the window. He would seem very cheery, with an antitoxin ready just incase. Renn would observe the two with their files being read to him by Eranacia. He would look over at the Electrum and admire how it looked. He then suddenly turned and sat back down on the windowsill without saying another word.
 
"Is that not the start of a legacy, to figure out a way to surpass the techniques and capacities of old?" Credius smiled when hearing the man's words, taking a sip from his drink before reaching in the breastpocket of his vest, handing over a small durasteel encryption module. That very module contained the entire knowledge that had been gathered on the strange electrical field which held the electrum in its current state, allowing for it to gain or rather retain the aforementioned properties, which it wouldn't have had it been in a solid state. The small pen-like module also contained clearance codes within the Eriadu Manufacturing shipyards, which would allow Cid to take a space for his own work and research if necessary. "It is never a bad deal to have people who can view at both the material and the creative process thereof, if you take this cypher, this module...you gain clearance to acquiesse a place for your own within my company, secluded and well equipped and ready to be adjusted to your every need. Should you pass this... little test of mine, I have no doubt we can make sure you can create that which you desire the most: an unfaltering, never fading legacy."

Yet, as he wanted to continue the conversation, Credius too, noticed the armored man entering the study, not feeling any hostile intent from the man, the occurence mostly amused the marquis. Credius looked at how the man seemed to simply act as if he owned the place, showing remarkable self-confidence or perhaps it was arrogance or maybe a bit of both, whatever it was, the man did have to have balls of durasteel to walk into his private study without as much as an excuse. "Oh do I now, so...how much money would there be on my head?" With a sinister smile, the marquis gazed calmly into Renn's direction as the man calmly did his thing before sitting back on the windowsill. "You're lucky...ehm...young man, that I am in a very good and generous mood. Someone able to blend in and manage to sneak up on me is worth employing."

Letting out a chuckle, the marquis clapped his hands. "Gentlemen, though we are of different status and different ideology no doubt, perhaps this is a rather fortuitous meeting. One to make a legacy and one to no doubt seek thrills in life, two things I can offer to you both and I ask only one thing in return: loyalty."
 
I didn’t go undetected, you looked at me. If I wanted to be stealthy, I wouldn’t have been seen.

Renn would laugh heartily, he would seem happy getting up from his windowsill and walk around the place looking at items. He knows that if either of them draw on him he could dive and fire back. He was calculating many moves in his head for various weapons that could be drawn. He would listen to [member="Credius Nargath"] while he walked around.

Maybe it is fortunate that we’re all here. Maybe because we’re not drawing weapons, maybe because we’re all curious. The universe works in mysterious ways. And all you need for my loyalty is an undying paycheck, as long as it’s better to take it than your head.

He would walk back over to the window and put his pistols on it. He would then put his blaster rifle on a coat hanger, but he left a handle of a weapon by his side.

Will I be the only one to put up my weapons? So we can all be peaceful here.

He would acknowledge that he still had the handle clipped to his belt, but left it there.
 
Cid accepted the module with which Credius handed over freely. His eyes fell to it just for a moment before they returned to those of the evening's host.

"Test?" His voice was level, but with a hint of mirth. Perhaps better described as incredulity. The man had a way with ensuring he found someone worth his time. With a test like this no wonder the Marquis had been holding on to that ball for a decade now. Besides, what could the Marquis possibly be eagerly anticipating doing with the stuff once more could be fashioned or its properties stabilized? After all this time and effort, Cid didn't believe the Marquis was just intellectually curious. Not if he considered unraveling this secret a mere test.

Before they could delve deeper into the matter, however, a third party decided to openly announce their presence. As it turned out, they were a bounty hunter; one that knew his name. That was exactly what Cid wanted to run into today.

Only it was the Marquis that drew the hunter's attention and not himself. A hell of a twist. Then again, men of wealth and power usually had more than enough enemies and might have violated just a few laws. Long as it didn't involve him.

As they danced about one another -- one openly disdainful for any etiquette whatsoever, and the other the embodiment of etiquette -- the craftsman felt this uneasy feeling stir within. Had to be his imagination though. Someone like the Marquis could employ someone like this Bounty Hunter. He could have that cold, sharp demeanor especially addressing an intruder. These were not hallmarks of an evil person or of a Sith. Not in isolation.

Slowly the module the Marquis had given Cid appeared to be slipped into the inside, left jacket pocket of Cid's suit. Afterward his hand found itself in the right pocket of his slacks where it stayed.

"Sorry, kid," Cid smiled for a second, "you're looking at the only weapon I brought with me." Even with the grip collapsed his hammer would stick out a bit too much at a gathering like this one.

The contents of his glass swirled as Cid gave it a slow roll in his left hand. "You've already made a generous offer, so I only have one stipulation, Marquis," the man replied at last. "I don't do galactic terrorism. Long as that isn't a deal breaker," the statement drifted off toward the logical conclusion. Leaking people's secrets or screwing with their companies wasn't his thing. Too far too much time, and he didn't need to rely on being underhanded. People could either afford him -- in which case he'd make enough to life comfortably -- or they couldn't; and there were more than enough people in the galaxy that could afford Cid's services.

Tag: [member="Credius Nargath"] | [member="Renn Garrick"]​
 
The marquis laughed, though his face instantly turned into a stern one, practically as cold as a marble statue when looking at the bounty hunter. "If you think any of those who think removing my head from my torso have any more wealth than I do, you may try to do so for the paltry cheque you'd cash in after that," turning to the electrum sphere, the marquis simply touched the golden, liquid metal orb once more, letting out a long, deep sigh. "This single artifact cost me more than a military battlecruiser, mere pocket change. So tell me, my dear man...who do you think has more value? Someone who pays you to gain wealth and power at the behest of someone greater will neverbe able to afford what said target would be able to afford, that's a simple matter of stupidity when targeting someone. If I were to put a target on someone's head, I'd make sure they are not able to bid over my price."

Slowly removing his cloak and hanging it over the chair, the marquis attempted to soothe Renn by showing he indeed carried no weapons, even going so far as to unfasten the buttons of his sleeves and rolling them up a bit to prove his point, even though in doing so, he did show arms which had many fine scars on toned and rather well defined muscle, lean and strong, indicative of an eriduan who has gone through the cruel trials of the natives. "Galactic Terrorism?" This stipulation did make the man's brow arc a bit upward, but with a single chuckle he dismissed that idea. Making a single wave with his left hand, motioning Cid that there would be no such thing, after all...that would be way to ostentatious. "This is but a transaction of business, will and desire...an affirment of ambitions coinciding within a single mindset towards the future. Though I do admit that any applications discovered may end up being used in military hardware and components, they will not be the sole purpose nor sole intent. Should a man be killed by one's invention...is it than the inventor's fault or the fault of the person wielding said invention?"

[member="Damascus Cid"] [member="Renn Garrick"]
 
Renn would still act as if he were interested, he slightly was, and with the prospect of money he was even more on board. He would laugh at the statement of galactic terrorism.

"You call his work galactic terrorism, that's my job."

Renn would listen to the conversation, while they were talking he would walk over and make sure the door was unlocked. He was getting ready to drop the act because if he were more serious, he would get more money. He would look at Credius after his last statement.

"The answer to the question, is the ones who helped a man destroy himself. They could prevent it, and save him, but they watch on and let him die. Another way you could think about it is the inventor is the murderer, like the man who made the blaster. This is incorrect logic, because if we were to blame him for all the deaths that were not intended by his creation, he would be a murderer, and not an inventor. If you say it is the man who used it, you may have a valid argument, for he uses it with malicious intent. Harming its own creator, but then again wrong, he may have killed the man, but the man would've died anyway, he just sped it up. It's not murder so to speak, only bringing forth a quicker end."

Renn would walk around the room, letting them ponder the answer.

"But if you think otherwise, I won't hold it against you."

After this he would fall dead silent, no cheery attitude, no friendship. He was like a caged beast, waiting for someone to let it escape. It was their turn to play his game of chess, and he was ready for every move.

[member="Credius Nargath"] [member="Damascus Cid"]
 
Cid didn't smile in the face of the Marquis' mirth. Nor did he scowl. The stipulation had been made quite forthright, and was not negotiable. It was good to hear the man did not hold such aspirations, but Cid knew better than to accept that at face value. How many Sith believed what they did was 'evil'? No, they used words like 'necessary' or 'unavoidable' -- and that was if they even cared to notice the countless people they crushed physically or emotionally beneath their tyrannical gauntlet of control. All said, the man's words had been a start. If they couldn't even clear that hurdle, their partnership wouldn't have lasted long.

The Bounty Hunter on the other hand got a dark look from the craftsman. Really, now? Just laying his cards out there with no regard for anyone or anything. How bold. And reckless. Was it his intention to provoke them to make the first move?

A narrowing of the eyes followed the man as he checked the door. Or was his bravado intended to distract them from something else? Guns on the ledge? Partners outside the window? Raiding party preparing to burst in to the party and storm the Marquis' study? If it was the latter -- and that'd fit nicely with the man being a self-professed galactic terrorist -- then they'd better have damn good medical coverage.

"Sometimes, both." Cid glanced between the two men present. "You don't blame someone for building a blaster. It can be used to protect as many as they kill. You blame the person that released an engineered pandemic, or builds something that destroys entire planets -- because these things have one purpose. It doesn't matter who pulled the trigger in the end, the people that made the thing should have known better." If the Sith wanted to talk about inevitability, designing a plague that can wipe out an entire species had an inevitable outcome -- it would be used to wipe out an entire species. Did they deserve it? Was it "righteous"? Could you say that about an entire people? Maybe there'd be that one exception to the rule, but no one waited for the exception. Someone could always justify using it just shy of the mark -- it was 'close enough' in their philosophical viewpoint.

Was the Bounty Hunter here for the Marquis, or him? Perhaps both. Cid didn't hold any illusions about how things he'd built in the Empire had been used. He'd wised up after too much time had gone by. He knew a measure of the sins and crimes he was responsible for. He accepted that. Would he surrender to the authorities over his perceived guilty, however? No. He could do far better building things than sitting in some cramp cell where a few people can feel vindictive for a day before realizing how many more 'monsters' were out there at that very moment. Long as he didn't get roped back in to that galactic mess, Cid would do what he felt was right in making amends. Not some court full of politics and closed door deals.

"Now, much as I enjoy talking philosophy at a party," especially with a self-professed galactic terrorist, "can I just ask what it is you're looking for, kid?" The Marquis might be the kind of man that would humor dancing around something with word play and misdirection, but not Cid. If the Bounty Hunter would cut to the chase already that'd be just wonderful. Or did the man just creep in random people's windows, drink their booze, and philosophize at the panicked owners?

Tag: [member="Credius Nargath"] | [member="Renn Garrick"]​
 
Renn would hear the Cid call him kid, he then walked over and holstered his pistols.

"I am no kid, I am a man, a man who will get the job done at all costs. I am on this world to do people's dirty work. If I was here for either of you, I would just've collapsed the building by now."

He would walk to the door and lock it. He would then break the lock, the only means of escape being the window. He would not be there to hurt them, he would be there to learn. Renn was no fool, and knew that they thought he was playing their game. He would look at the Marquis, and then back at Cid. He wondered if the man knew who he was, or if he was just arrogant. Renn had killed many men like this, they draw their weapons and he cuts them in half.

"Currently I am the scariest thing in this room, the greediest thing in this room, and your one lifeline to escape it is not pissing me off. Cid, I know the empire wants you, I thought about dragging you in. I would've been paid dearly, I could've quit my job."

He looks at the Marquis, contemplating how to not get himself in a brawl with a potential employer.

"I could've shot you at the window, but I doubt that anyone would pay more for your head, then you would pay for a week." He would look between the arms crossed, "Cid, you're an idiot, in this case I am the king and you are the peasant. I am not here for your heads, but if either of you attack me I will kill you."

He would seem overconfident, but he is trying to walk them into a number of traps set up in his mind. He wanted one of them to attack, he was ready for a strike. He would be in a position by the window. Renn wouldn't have any intent to kill them, but would slide one of his and a convincing decoy pistol onto the windowsill. His handle moved positions from the side of his belt to across his stomach, an easier and quicker place to draw it from. Cid is in check, and Renn knows it. He would move away from the window and lean against a low case not propped up against a wall. On the wall Renn would grin under his visor, he was fighting with his favorite kind of warfare, psychological.

[member="Damascus Cid"] [member="Credius Nargath"]
 

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