Public The Festival of Great Trade

[Beltran Rarr]

Beltran considered his options. There was something about the Krath sword that drew him to it. The elegance of it’s construction was one part of it, but also the devious ruthlessness behind the inclusion of the lavanrok in its hilt. Such a weapon fit well with Beltran’s style of combat.

He then looked down at the blank as it was shown to him and tilted his head, as if envisioning the blank in any one of a hundred possible finished products.

Then he said. “That size would be perfect, perhaps shaped in a similar style to the Krath sword?” He asked. “I would be interested in purchasing both this and the Krath sword from you.”

[member="Azel Moran"]

 

[Caedyn Arenais]

Attire: Tunic/Robes.​

Equipment: Lightsaber & Bo Staff.​

Location: Wrils, Capital of Svivren.​

Present Company: [member="Oros"] & [member="Coren Starchaser"].​

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"The Force is present in all things, but most of all it is pure, I believe" Caedyn replied to [member="Oros"] as the being questioned the inherent darkness in the practices of bogan, "It is the people that seek to abuse their gifts, that taint it's natural state. Without self-restraint and awareness of the risks that come with such a power, their ambitions cloud their judgement, and their emotions give shape to a much more destructive power that we know as the Dark Side". Long ago, the Je'daii had attributed these practices to the deity called Bogan, and the lightside of the Force to that of Ashla. For Caedyn, he wasn't so convinced that there were living deities that influenced the force in such ways, as those who had come before him, yet beyond any doubt was the fact that the Force was the one infinite power in the Galaxy and regardless of how people chose to use it, they were all connected through it's attachment to the living universe.

"Bogan and Ashla, these are teachings of a forgotten Order for most of society today; I can't say whether there's any truth to their existence or not, but I see the good and the bad through the deeds of people around us. In times of conflict, poverty, celebration..." he explained, admitting that he didn't have all the answers. Hell, he some days felt like he were still just a boy when considering the path of the Jedi and what his fate would look like therein. He didn't have his father's experience, nor the man's knowledge of the Jedi traditions, teachings and philosophies. Caedyn's knighthood was never official, he had stood as the sole remaining Je'daii before coming into contact with the Silvers, and his ability to practice the Force put him at near level with other Jedi Knights, thus leaving him to presume that this was the place and role he too was fated to share. "I don't believe in 'Guilty until proven Innocent'. Actions speak louder than words and I do my best not to judge others where I can avoid it. It's not my place to tell others how to live their lives, but when it comes to the health and safety of innocent bystanders...-Well, that's another story. If someone's at risk, I will act in their defense, and serve those who are in need" he concluded, silence soon following as he found himself pondering Oros' words, as well as his intention behind the discussion. Part of him felt like he was being sized up by the Jedi Master, though why, he did not know.

Come. There is one I would have you meet. ​

Master Starchaser. Your visit humbles us. ​

Allow me to introduce our young steward, Caedyn Arenais. ​

I believe you know his father.​

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“Good to see the Enclave growing. Welcome back to the Rim” [member="Coren Starchaser"] greeted them both, commenting upon the Enclave Caedyn had left behind for the sake of today's venture. News traveled fast, though how much the fellow Jedi Master knew about the Enclave's former inhabitants, Caedyn wasn't certain. Coren definitely seemed familiar somehow though, and the younger Knight couldn't place where they might have met, if they'd met at all...

"Master Starchaser..." Caedyn repeated after Oros, bowing in official and formal greeting of the superior ranking Jedi Master, "Thank you, it's good to be back on Svivren I have to admit. I didn't expect to have my services requested nearly so soon as they have, but today's looking like a good turn-out and it makes for a nice change" he smiled, speaking plainly whilst admiring those whom surrounded them.

 

[Abby Miller]

A trade festival was the perfect occasion for someone like Abby to practice her skills. The variety of goods on offer was ample enough to promise some profit, no doubt later during the day Abby would spend time assembling various purchases. For the moment however, the...entrepreneurial woman simply made her way through the main market area, browsing stalls for anything that might catch her eye. There was nothing in particular Abigail was looking for, presently, though that just left more room for something to catch her interest by surprise.

Local, small-scale productions and 'home grown' wares were always a popular domestic product, and tended to carry far fewer legal restrictions than more illicit cargo. The pay wasn't nearly as good, but, it was a great type of product to move while letting heat die down after a more high-profile contract. As such, meeting and greeting local merchants could only work in her favor.

And at the very least: It was good to just get out of the ship for a while, stretch her legs and eat some fresh food.

 

[Amilthi Camlenn]

Amilthi took a step closer and picked up the remote to inspect it, determined to ignore any protestation on the Jawa's part about her action. "Ko lopo", she determined after some moments.

Having no interest in the ship part the Jawa had brought up for no good reason, she held up the remote and stated, without regard for the Jawa's palpable discomfort: "Ko'gakisewa."

[member=Runt]

 

[Azel Moran]

[member="Beltran Rarr"]

"And I'd be interested in selling. Not fussy about the currency."

The sword had a small price tag with a large number on it, in ORC talons. Large but appropriate - Azel wasn't out to rip anyone off without good reason.

"You can take the Tetan sword today, but forging the beskar one will take a few weeks - I have a bit of a backlog on the books. Deposit's a thousand." He pulled out a small module like a bounty puck. "Here - to contact me. So tell me: what do you need this beskar blade to do and be? What kinds of...tasks do you see in its future?"

 

[Beltran Rarr]

Beltran nodded. The price was pretty much what he expected it to be. Good work didn’t come cheap, and Beltran wouldn’t have trusted it if it had. He reached into his robe and pulled out a small, non-descript cred-stick. It was the kind that one could pre-load with an amount of whatever currency one was using, but it carried no personal data on the owner.

Not so long ago, the Lorrdian had been a man of rather considerable means. During that time, he had hidden dozens of cred-sticks just like these-each containing a small fortune-at dead drops throughout the galaxy along with identification that supported his many aliases. It wasn’t an inexhaustible amount, but it was enough that he could pay [member="Azel Moran"]’s price, and his deposit, and still have more than enough to secure the parts he would need to get the Imperialis space worthy again. From there, he could go to the next drop, and the next, until he had more than enough operating capital to fund his endeavors again.

“That’s fair,” He said simply as he transferred the amount, in ORC talons, to the man. He then considered the man’s question carefully before answering. “The dimensions you’ve already set are acceptable.” He said indicating the blank. “I would prefer the blade have a single edge, slightly curved into a narrow point. Something primarily used for stabbing and thrusting, but with some utility for slashing should the need arise. Closer to the tang, I would like the blade to be serrated.”

From his description, Beltran knew that the blacksmith would be able to infer that this blade would likely only have a single use: as an instrument of war.

 

[Azel Moran]

[member="Beltran Rarr"]

"One-handed, single-edged stabber, serrated forte. Shouldn't be a problem. Beskar's finicky, though, like trying to carve a fussy piece of junipero. It has a mind of its own." Azel shrugged. "But breaking its will is my job and I'd like to think I'm good at it. Any preferences for handle material? I do most of my scales in brylark wood but I'm always willing to branch out if the right material's available."

 

[Braelyn Zale]

The galaxy was a vast place. And the Outer Rim? Even more so. She’d been working the racing circuit a bit, but what good were winnings if you couldn’t use them? Braelyn was also hearing that there was a change in the order of things in the galaxy. A new Enclave of… Jedi? Great. That could be interesting to check out, but more importantly, she had been called out here by the Judges, to keep an eye on things. She was lucky, the dress code was easy. Spacers leathers, her side arm, and her datapad.

She had her father’s green kyber crystal on a cord around her neck.

The Judge was walking up and down the rows of trade goods. She wasn’t so concerned with who was making sales and purchases, so long as they followed the rule of law. It didn’t seem like that was going to be a problem, but the girl also wanted to get out and network a bit. Her eyes went over to the redheaded woman and the Jawa. That was definitely something she didn’t see every day. And there was an armorer nearby. She stepped closer, partially to eavesdrop.

Partially to shop.

[member="Runt"]
[member="Amilthi Camlenn"]

 

[Coren Starchaser]

As the leader of Jedi crusading, Coren Starchaser’s name was around on most other Jedi’s call or, sometimes, do not call list. He was a polarizing figure at times, but he knew what he was after. He was a Jedi, he was a defender, he was a Paladin. But one thing he knew lately, he was working on the defensive, no longer on the offensive. If the Sith came knocking, he was there, and if there was a strike? He would typically be there, making a point. But he knew his son was out there, training, and relearning what it meant to be a Jedi. Perhaps Coren could retire soon, could defend Sullust and the Rim.

“You’re a friend, Oros, and you’re Jedi. Its only right I pay respects to what you are doing out here.” He was smiling as he spoke. It was a good feeling, the calm here.

“Jedi Arenais, your reputation precedes you. Your father is a close friend.” He smiled at the younger Jedi. “The Rim is a wide space. Some places are more accepting of Jedi that others.” He was meaning the Alliance space being a bit wary, though he and a few others did fine. “But there are a lot of those who still look to Jedi for hope, and protection. Its good to be needed.”

[member="Oros"]
[member="Caedyn Arenais"]

 

[Caedyn Arenais]

Attire: Tunic/Robes.​

Equipment: Lightsaber & Bo Staff.​

Location: Wrils, Capital of Svivren.​

Present Company: [member=Oros] & [member="Coren Starchaser"].​

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"Thank you, Master Starchaser" Caedyn offered a polite smile, however added a little apprehensively "Though my Father's reputation isn't my own, and I can't claim credit for his actions or influence over the Jedi" he cautioned the more experienced man before him, not wanting to be seen to be forever in the shadow of his father's legacy.

"Thankfully, I'm not new to this area of the Galaxy either" he added with a little further confidence than his previous remark had held. Long before his time with the Silver Jedi, the Enclave there on Svivren had been refurbished for the Je'daii and came to be known as the Silent Temple of Qigong Kesh. It was [member=Asha Hex] whom had groomed Caedyn to be the Temple Steward back then, and when the Je'daii had left Aurum and their respective worlds, Caedyn had remained.

"Admittedly, it's been a few years since I was last actively living in the Enclave here...-Not since it was under the Je'daii. I'm hoping that returning it back to it's former state and role will also offer myself some direction..." or perhaps what he sought was something more akin to guidance in where the Force willed for him to go in life.

"If I'm not mistaken, you yourself have quite the reputation don't you?" he asked, hoping that he wasn't mistaken in recognizing [member="Coren Starchaser"]'s name from somewhere, though he couldn't place exactly where, this was the first real interaction the two had held. As far as Caedyn could recall, in any case.

 

[Beltran Rarr]

Beltran appreciated the man’s words. He, himself, was a talented engineer who had brought a number of weapon designs to fruition in his time running the Obsidian Star Technologies corporation on Denon. But his weapons tended toward the technological. He was a tradesman, but [member="Azel Moran"] was an artist.

“I’ve never had the opportunity to work with the metal in any meaningful fashion,” Beltran replied honestly. “But if your other pieces are any indication, I am sure that you’re more than up to the task.” Beltran wasn’t one to offer false praise or flattery. Nor was he generally one to give true praise even if it was well earned. For him to say such a thing at all showed the level of his admiration for the man’s work.

“I have no particular preference for the scales,” He answered. “Brylark wood will do nicely.”

 

[Val Drutin]

[SIZE=12pt]Dragging an overstuffed bag behind him, Val made his way through the crowds at the festival, taking little heed of the many passerby he nearly bumped into or tripped with his cargo. Glares followed him as he went, along with a few curses, but so far no one had gotten angry enough to challenge or threaten him. His strange appearance tended to put people off, but today it worked in his favor; his current outfit made him appear (at least at first glance[/SIZE]—look closer and you would see it was only a gaudy theater costume) much richer than he actually was, perhaps even a nobleman visiting from a far wealthier world. The lightsaber hanging from his belt was also a strong deterrent against picking a fight with him.

[SIZE=12pt]What was the dancer doing on Svivren, all the way in the Outer Rim? Well, with the theater on Coruscant having closed up at the end of the season, Val was forced to find other work. He fell back on his reliable old gig—providing off-world transport to civilians in his ship, the Stardust. His latest sojourn had involved a round trip to Svivren, carrying a young woman who wanted to visit her family.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=12pt]Somewhere between screaming at him for piloting like a maniac and becoming violently ill in the ‘fresher after one too many spins, his last passenger had noticed his collection of odds and ends scattered around the interior of the ship. Her eyes began to gleam, and her mouth had fallen open. Val had initially misread the look on her face, thinking it was awe and appreciation for the artful way he had arranged the junk other people had cast off. But when she turned to face him, he realized it was covetous greed.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=12pt]Long story short, she had convinced him to sell her one of his baubles. He’d been a little sad to part with it, but he needed the money. Besides, it wasn’t nearly as pretty as some of the other trinkets he’d found in the trash. After that first transaction, he’d felt compelled on a whim to try and get rid of all the ugliest pieces in his collection—the utilitarian ones constructed of materials too strong to work with and too specific in shape to be incorporated into the shiny mural he was making on the starboard wall of the Stardust[/SIZE][SIZE=12pt]. The festival simply provided an easy (and profitable) means of selling them off.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=12pt]Without a stall of his own, he simply found an unoccupied corner of the marketplace and dumped the contents of his bag onto the ground. A wide array of electronic devices, including elaborate translators, advanced computer spikes, mismatched droid parts, and even a few weapons of varying age and quality tumbled out in a confused pile. Pleased that he would not be wasting the things he didn’t want by simply throwing them away (and deriving manic pleasure from having made such a large mess in a public space), Val promptly took a seat cross-legged on the ground behind his haul and waited. He was no salesman and wasn’t really sure what all this stuff was worth exactly, but after seeing how his passenger reacted, he was confident the goods would sell themselves.[/SIZE]

 

[Azel Moran]

[member="Beltran Rarr"]

"Brylark it is, then. It's never let me down. Pleasure doing business with you, friend."

And it was. He'd had reservations about coming to Svivren, being this close to the Jedi. In his heart of hearts he'd also felt excitement at the idea of baiting Jedi into foolishness with just his presence. But good business was more important than a little entertainment.

"Happy shopping. I hear the Jawa bargains are to die for."

 

[Runt]

[SIZE=11pt]The Jawa shook his head a moment before relenting and opening a palm towards the lady ahead of him.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]“Mambay,” [/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]Runt retorted in a somewhat defeated tone, putting more value in credits than what he was selling.[/SIZE]

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[member="Amilthi Camlenn"] [member="Braelyn Zale"]​

 

[Klesta]

Selling more ergonomic assessments was not straightforward, but determining whether a group, bulk or wholesale discount would be applicable was essentially a logarithmic thing. In fact, most of his clients were ordered to have ergonomic assessments made by either medical or legal authorities; one such client was coming to him, court order in hand. As usual, it was related to work accidents, and more often class actions. Cool's Sporting Goods, which specialized in ski equipment, had a lawsuit filed against it by its former warehouse clerk, had to pay 40,000 in settlement of damages to the clerk due to various kinds of losses that resulted from a work accident in the warehouse.

"Utinni! One more court order asking for preventive measures and prescribing which preventive measures to take and in which time frame! It will cost more moolah because the courts want the assurance the measures have been made appropriately. Now do you want the warehouse only or the whole headquarters?"

 

[Gideon Saigo]

Jair's journey back to Mandalorian space, after a month of hunting in the OutRim, had him pitstop at Svivren to refuel and he had heard of this Festival of Great Trade taking place.

The first day, he strolled around looking at all the stalls for anything interesting but fully expecting prices blown out of proportion due to the event. He bought nothing and nearly kicked a karkin' Jawa like a ball no surprises there - he disliked Jawa.

Black Taungsday, my shebs.

The second day, something unexpected happened. Someone stole his ship's fuel starter and he was out for scavenger blood.

The Mandalorian hit the Festival with a hurried and angry step. As usual, the sight of Mandalorian armor carved the way for him. Despite the Mando'ade's recent turmoils, a T-visor still forced some form of intimidation among people.

Ordo abruptly stopped when he saw a Jawa insolently trying to shove a ship part to a potential customer. The Mandalorian fumed and turned red beneath the helmet. Just as Deputy [member="Braelyn Zale"], who Jair did not notice, stood there observing, Jair approached decisively the stall of the little scavenger.

"That's my ship's part, you little runt!" Jair growled.

He raised his vambrace at the hooded thing and produced a constant stream of fire at it, its stall and its potential customers with complete disregard of collateral damage.

[member="Runt"] [member="Amilthi Camlenn"]

 

[Beltran Rarr]

Beltran nodded curtly and responded. “And with you. I look forward to seeing the finished project.” With that, he turned and with his newly purchased Itak Sword in hand, he began to move on. He knew that [member="Azel Moran"] would get in contact, likely through the puck that Beltran had secured in a pouch within his robes, when the weapon was completed. For now, there was no more to do but take his leave and go searching for the parts that would get the Imperialis up and running.

As he moved along the stalls, Moran’s words rung in his ears. Jawa’s did often have the best scrap and spare parts, and given that this was a trade meet, Beltran knew that it was a law of the universe that at least two had to be in attendance somewhere.

As he rounded a corner, he quickly found what he was looking for. A small hooded figure, speaking to a pair of human women in front of a stall full of exactly the kind of scrap that he needed. As he made his way closer, he noticed another figure approaching the stall.

A Mandalorian and judging by his body language, an angry one.

Beltran slung his new sword over his shoulders in its scabbard. If there was going to be trouble, he wanted his hands free.
He was about two stalls away when the Mandalorian shouted at the Jawa and launched a spray of flame from his forearm out toward the little creature’s stall.

With a flash of movement, Beltran reached under his robe to the holster he kept on his hip and drew his blaster pistol, leveling it at the armored figure in a swift fluid motion. “Sorry, friend,” He called out as he flicked the safety off the weapon. “But that’s not happening today.”

[member="Runt"] [member="Amilthi Camlenn"] [member="Braelyn Zale"] [member="Jair Ordo"]

 

[Runt]

[SIZE=11pt]The Jawa looked up towards the Mandalorian as he swiftly made his way over, for a moment the creature thought himself lucky to of made a new customer, that was before he growled out and began his attack. Runt immediately let out a high-pitched scream of panic before jumping as quickly out of the way as possible, unfortunately some of his robes got burned and lit aflame.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]“Ny shootogawa!” [/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]Runt screamed out in panic, clearly frightened to the core as he rolled about for the fire to go out. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]-[/SIZE]​

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[member="Amilthi Camlenn"] [member="Jair Ordo"] [member="Beltran Rarr"]​

 

[Val Drutin]

[SIZE=12pt]Not long after he set up shop (if you could even call it that), Val heard shouting nearby. He turned just in time to see [member="Jair Ordo"] open fire—literally—on the unsuspecting [member="Runt"]. While the Jawa began screaming and rolling on the ground trying to put the flames out, [member="Beltran Rarr"] rushed to deal with the enraged Mandalorian, and terrified bystanders ran from the scene, Val remained at his spot, eager to see what would happen next. Part of him longed for excitement, and this was exactly the sort of dramatic showdown that refined thespians like himself sought to ape.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=12pt]His junk pile forgotten, he stood up and moved closer to the conflict, paying no heed to the danger.[/SIZE]

 

[Gideon Saigo]

The thing screeched something in its incomprehensible language but that did not stop Jair from maintaining the roast. What did stop him was the familiar sound of a gun escaping its holster and a voice from behind him.

Fethin' aruetii'se, always from behind.

He ceased the grilling of the Jawa and dropped his forearm down to his hip. He'd not raise his arms, he was a Mandalorian.

Ordo turned sideways to see the armed man but also keep an eye on the Jawa and his stall. Days like these, he wished he'd been better equipped but with the fall of Mandalore resources were at an all time low. Heck, he didn't need no wrist rockets to deal with this situation in a good day. Just good ol' beskar armor.

But days like these - there was no beskar armor.

"Tell the thing to give me back my fuel starter and I will be off." Jair stated jerking his head at the rolling around figure of the jawa sales executive.

[member="Val Drutin"] [member="Runt"] [member="Beltran Rarr"] [member="Braelyn Zale"] [member="Amilthi Camlenn"]​