Public The Wielu Exchange [Open to Corpos]

[Rezlan Ves]

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// EXECUTIVE RECORD LOCATION // WIELU, PRIVATE RESORT ISLAND OBJECTIVE // HOST THE WIELU EXCHANGE

REZLAN VES FOUNDER / CHIEF EXECUTIVE PANOPTIC CAPITAL

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THE WIELU EXCHANGE​

PRIVATE EXECUTIVE RETREAT​

Panoptic Capital had spent enough money to make arriving on Wielu remarkably uncomplicated.

For anyone travelling through the planet's spaceport, private transfers waited beyond arrivals. Larger company delegations had been accounted for in advance, while those bringing their own craft received separate instructions for landing, docking and onward transport to the island. By the time a guest reached the resort, accommodation had already been assigned and their luggage was somebody else's problem.

Panoptic was paying for that too.

The company had reserved the resort for the Exchange, giving its guests three days in which most of the usual barriers between arranging a meeting and actually having one had been quietly removed. Executives, founders, investors, financiers, industrialists and company representatives had come from across the region and beyond. Some invitations bore Rezlan Ves's name directly. Others had gone through companies, existing clients, referrals and associates.

Precisely how somebody had made the list mattered rather less once they were there.

The programme reflected that.

There were roundtables and smaller discussions available to anyone interested, along with rooms set aside for private meetings and enough Panoptic staff on hand to arrange introductions where requested. None of it was compulsory. Guests could spend the entire weekend moving from one conversation to another without entering a conference room at all.

The resort offered plenty of alternatives.

Beaches, pools, private dining, bars, lounges, spa facilities, fitness rooms, yacht excursions, sailing, diving, water sports, gaming rooms, conference spaces, secluded terraces and private villas all remained available throughout the Exchange, along with a list that seemed to grow whenever somebody asked for something that had not already been thought of.

That was more or less the point.

Put enough interesting people somewhere comfortable, remove most of the inconveniences, then see what happened.

By sunset the first arrivals had spread through the resort. Some had gone directly to their rooms. Others had already found the bars, pools or terraces overlooking the water, while Panoptic staff continued moving newly arrived guests away from the landing facilities and into whatever part of the island interested them.

Rezlan had resisted the temptation to programme anything more ambitious for the first evening.

There would be time for business tomorrow.

Tonight, tables had been laid along one of the broad terraces overlooking the sea. Drinks were already being served, dinner would follow once the sun disappeared beneath the horizon, and there was no seating plan designed to trap anyone beside a stranger for three hours.

Rezlan stood near the edge of the terrace as the gathering began to fill around him, one hand tucked into the pocket of a dark tailored coat while the other held a glass he had so far barely touched.

He had invited enough of these people personally to recognise faces as they appeared.

The unfamiliar ones were opportunities.

When there were finally enough guests gathered to justify interrupting them, Rezlan stepped far enough forward to claim their attention without making a production of it.

"Welcome to Wielu."

His gaze passed across the terrace.

"Panoptic has covered your accommodation, transport around the island, dinner, drinks, and anything on the Exchange programme. If we've missed something reasonable, we can accommodate."

A faint smile surfaced.

"There are meetings available tomorrow for those who want them. There is also an entire resort for those who don't."

He lifted his glass slightly.

"For tonight, please make yourselves comfortable, share introductions, find your rooms or freshen up. Then we can proceed to our evening dinner and drinks on the main pavilion's sea terrace. Relax, unwind, everything else can wait until morning.

"Enjoy the resort, and welcome once again."

With that, Rezlan stepped back and allowed the guests space.

He would introduce himself properly throughout the evening.

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TAGGED

• Open to Corpos •

PANOPTIC CAPITAL / WIELU RESORT

 

[Emilia Locke]

//: Rezlan Ves //:
//: Open //:
───────────────

​

WEARING [X]

Emilia had attended enough corporate gatherings to recognize when someone had spent a great deal of money trying to make an event appear effortless. Usually, the effort showed, and Wielu had been different. From the moment her ship touched down, there had simply been someone where someone needed to be. Nobody had handed her an itinerary and attempted to explain where she needed to be in fifteen-minute increments.

That alone had earned Panoptic Capital a surprising amount of goodwill.

By the time Emilia joined the gathering on the terrace, she had changed out of the suit she'd traveled in for something better suited to the evening. Black tailored trousers sat high at her waist beneath a softly draped sleeveless top, elegant without quite becoming formal, with a lightweight jacket carried loosely over one arm in case the sea air eventually justified it. A fine chain rested at her throat, accompanied by a few understated pieces of jewelry and the expensive watch that rarely left her wrist. Her dark hair had been left loose around her shoulders, its warmer brown tones catching whenever she passed beneath the terrace lights.

She collected a drink on her way through the terrace and found herself a place nearer the water as Rezlan Ves began his welcome. Her attention settled upon him over the rim of the glass.

Accommodation. Transport. Dinner. Drinks.

Meetings tomorrow.

An entire resort if they preferred otherwise, that last part drew the faintest curve from one corner of her mouth. There were people who would spend the next three days desperately trying to justify their invitation. Business cards would materialize from pockets. Pitches would be rehearsed over breakfast. Someone, inevitably, would corner an investor beside a pool and explain why whatever they were building would revolutionize the galaxy if only somebody gave them several million credits.

Emilia had done enough of that when she was younger, tonight, she had nothing to prove.

She lifted her glass with the others when Rezlan finished, taking a small drink before turning her attention toward the horizon. The last edge of the sun was disappearing into the sea, leaving streaks of amber across water that seemed determined to make the Coruscant skyline outside her office feel particularly offensive by comparison.

Perhaps Rezlan had the right idea everything else could wait until morning. Emilia rested one forearm loosely against the terrace railing, drink held between her fingers, and decided that for once she was going to take a host at his word.

​

 

[Vira Halor]

Vira was turned toward those two setting suns. She wasn’t looking at the canvas of indigos, violets, and burnt orange. No, she was looking at her comm screen. One corner of her mouth sharpened.

There.

She’d gotten more than a few coveted meeting spaces for tomorrow. And one just for herself. The next day would be a spa day. She’d already told Tycho Irogane she’d be taking the day off. What did ‘taking the day off’ actually mean, though? She was sure one thing or another would come up. But the spa would be the TOP priority. Just one more day.

And tonight.

Not to mention her shadows. She had two. She just couldn’t figure out if her father had assigned her protection or if Tycho had spotted those bruises around her neck a fortnight ago. The former if her brother had opened his yapper. The latter if her boss wanted to ‘protect’/spy on her. Regardless, Vira Halor did not like it.

Eyes dragged away from the glow of her screen, dismissing the beauty of the skies and turned toward their host. Amber simmered, catching the movement of the two males watching her. Lips flattened.

Perfectly manicured nails picked at imaginary lint upon her dress. She held a low ball glass of Whynn’s Reserve whiskey. The amber liquid nearly matching her eyes. A flicker of her gaze toward Emilia Locke . At least someone else had style at this thing.

Gaze settled back on their host as he finished his welcome. A stutter on the markings under one eye. Interesting. She typed off a quick message: send me everything you have on
Rezlan Ves . Yes. The guests as well. I need more than the initial file.

The whiskey smoothed down her throat followed by a snapped burn. Just how she liked it.

 

[Tycho Irogane]

Corporate Alliance
​

Tycho Irogane stepped out of his company speeder and entered the affair with his gold-bronze hair impeccably coiffed, flashing an easy, shallow smile that never quite reached his cold, silvery gaze as he passed competitors and colleagues alike.

Suit: Atrisian. Shell spider silk. Tailored.

Wrist: Caamasi Chrono. Exclusive.

Only the best if the Chancellor herself would be here. Dominique Vexx . Rumor was there had been some bad business on Wielu before. Hopefully it did not spoil his plans.

Where were Claudius and Nerys Ordon he wondered. Vira Halor should be there already. The whole Corporate Alliance needed to be here if they were to properly corner the Chancellor.

 

[Nolle Tron]

Zenith Point Ventures

Nolle Tron had attended enough corporate gatherings to know that the most important conversations rarely happened during the meetings. They happened afterward. Over drinks. Across dinner tables. Walking between engagements. Sometimes beside a pool while pretending neither participant had spent the previous twenty minutes quietly calculating what the other was worth.

The Wielu Exchange merely had the good sense to acknowledge that from the beginning. Nolle stood near the edge of the gathering with a drink held loosely in one hand, her attention wandering across the collection of executives, investors, entrepreneurs, and assorted corporate creatures Rezlan Ves had managed to lure to Caer Badru.

She had dressed accordingly. Professional enough that nobody could mistake why she was here, relaxed enough that nobody could accuse her of bringing the boardroom to the beach. And, perhaps most importantly, she had left her datapad behind. For tonight, at least. There were others from Zenith Point Ventures scattered around the resort. Nolle had neither asked nor expected them to remain attached to her hip. The Exchange was too useful for that. Better that they wandered, listened, introduced themselves when appropriate, and otherwise enjoyed what Panoptic Capital had so generously provided.

Tomorrow they could compare notes. Tonight, Nolle was perfectly content to let them disappear into the crowd. She took a small sip from her glass. "I have to give Ves credit," she murmured, mostly to herself. "Invite half the corporate galaxy somewhere beautiful, give them drinks, and tell them not to conduct business until tomorrow." A faint smile tugged at her lips. "Brilliant." Because, of course, everyone here was already conducting business. They were simply doing it without contracts on the table.

Nolle started toward the heart of the reception at an easy pace. She wasn't hunting anyone in particular. Zenith Point Ventures had interests broad enough that attempting to predict which introduction would prove valuable was almost pointless. A manufacturer might become an acquisition. A financier might become a partner. An ambitious little company nobody had heard of might become considerably more interesting after twenty minutes of conversation.

Or perhaps she'd meet someone interesting and accomplish absolutely nothing productive tonight. There were worse outcomes. She stopped near one of the hospitality stations, collected something small from a passing tray, and glanced toward the nearest cluster of guests.

For once, Nolle Tron had nowhere she specifically needed to be. That meant she could afford to see who came to her. "Alright, Wielu," she said quietly, amusement lingering in her expression. "Let's see who's worth meeting."

Nolle Tron

• Location: Wielu — Caer Badru Resort
• Objective: Make introductions. Find opportunities. Enjoy the evening.
• Outfit: Elegant black resort cocktail dress
• Company: N/A
• Interaction: OPEN

 

[Dominique Vexx]

It hadn't been Dominique's last time on Wielu, but it was likely the most memorable -- the time when she blasted a hole in the ceiling of the government building. The Black Sun Syndicate's minions had been attempting to sway Wielu into a contract with a fleet in orbit as 'encouragement' when one of the Councilors had been murdered. In the chaos that followed, Aurelian had goaded Mauve and Quinn into stabbing the then Acting-Chancellor; which prompted Dominique to call in CorpSec for immediate extraction.

She hadn't offered a word as apology for the destruction of their artistic ceiling either. If anything, she felt they should be prostrating themselves before herself -- and Aurelian -- for keeping them from making a galactic mistake. Not that it had been easy. Quite a few court cases followed, in fact, considering the Black Sun tried to force a signature under duress.

And now that she was Chancellor it wasn't often Dominique got to wear something she wanted to. So often she was forced to don that uniform-like outfit in an effort to help their enemies know the Republic wasn't a fat pig fit for slaughter -- they'd have to fight for every inch. But this... 'Conference' on Wielu? Well, there were no galactic governments to impress (or threaten) so everyone would forgive her if she didn't come looking prepared to seize the means of production from everyone present. Though, Shiraya knew Dominique had dreamed of doing that. What was having all that power if you didn't imagine outrageous ways to use it?

One high-heeled boot stepped out of the speeder followed by a long, shapely leg with a royal midnight wrapping clinging to every curve. Soft straps were a curtain to deny anyone the opportunity to ogle her generous posterior without the risk of bunching up when she sat down. A golden and violet silken corset was topped off with a delicate shoulder fur wrap. Her lilac hair wasn't done up in towers, but a bun to keep it from warring with the fur; and capped with a white cartwheel hat.

It might be just enough of an aesthetic change some might not instantly recognize her. After all, she'd even worn the contacts instead of her ever-present glareshades. Of course it wouldn't take long for people to recognize her, but Dominique did like changing things up whenever she had the opportunity. It was what she'd done before becoming Chancellor. Someone of her prestige and station should try to influence or celebrate the latest fashion.

Dominique reached up with one hand to adjust the angle of the cartwheel hat as she lifted her chin to hear what Rezlan had to say. It was important to look into the eyes of the person speaking. Body language was as much a part of communication as any spoken word.

"My, my," she said after the welcoming was concluded, "to think conducting business isn't relaxing." A jest, of course. Well, not really, but Dominique would happily play along if someone took it as one. Some people just couldn't understand the joy of being productive.

Rezlan Ves | Emilia Locke | Vira Halor | Tycho Irogane | Nolle Tron | Open​

 

[Nerys Ordon]

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CITADEL INDUSTRIAL SYSTEMS

WIELU RESORT

THE EXCHANGE

NERYS ORDON

CITADEL // EXECUTIVE

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PRIVATE ENGAGEMENT

♫ THE GREEN DRESS — RAMIN DJAWADI

It was a lovely opportunity for Nerys to present a kinder, gentler side of herself.

There was no such side. It was the same Nerys Ordon, but instead of a highly structured black suit, she wore a slightly less structured sheath dress, belted at her trim waist, strappy sandals, sunglasses. All black, of course -- Nerys was still a grieving widow, after akk. The gold daggers beneath her eyes -- stylized tears -- were in full effect. The gold theme continued on the fastener of her belt and her earrings and the bracelet and watch she wore. She had send ahead two suitcases, a briefcase, and some garment bags, all somehow improbably managed by a single aide who, purely by happenstance, was a young Firrerreo hardbody who bore an unusual resemblance to Tycho Irogane.

Happenstance. Coincidence, really.

Nerys collected her hotel key from the check-in desk, tucked it into her handbag, and then turned to scan the crowd. She spotted a familiar face, crossed to where he stood. "I would love a vodka martini, stirred, bone dry, ice cold, and don't bother with olives or any of that nonsense," Nerys told Tycho Irogane without looking at him. After a moment, she allowed her head to turn toward him and slid her sunglasses off. Her black eyes narrowed slightly. It was unclear whether this was a bit. She put the sunglasses in her handbag."Sorry, Irogane, I thought you were my assistant. Still, I don't suppose you could..."

She nodded toward the bar, one eyebrow lifting curiously.

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WITH

Tycho Irogane • Vira Halor • Claudius • Rezlan Ves

CITADEL

ORDON

 

[Suboden Qor]

KURODA HOLDINGS // EXECUTIVE OFFICE //>>THE MOUNTAIN DOES NOT BOW

Suboden had never particularly enjoyed introductions. He always felt that they encouraged people to tell you who they thought they were.
He preferred finding out for himself.

So the Executive Owner of Kuroda Holdings arrived at the Exchange without ceremony. He had no gaggle of assistants following in his wake, nor no obvious security detail announcing his importance. His suit was immaculate but restrained, carrying little beyond a small silver pin at the collar.

He collected a drink and wandered.

There was no immediate destination. Just time for Suboden to simply watch the gathering unfold around him, occasionally catching fragments of conversation as he passed.

Money. Expansion. Opportunity.
The usual things.

He stopped near the edge of the gathering and took an appreciative sip from his glass.

KURODA HOLDINGS
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THE MOUNTAIN DOES NOT BOW.
◆
EXECUTIVE COMMUNICATION

 

[Nolle Tron]

Zenith Point Ventures

Nolle had given the room—or what passed for one when the walls were mostly horizon—ample opportunity to decide what it wanted to become. Apparently, it had decided to become a collection of very important people doing their absolute best not to look as though they were watching one another. She found that rather charming.

Her gaze passed over the little islands that had formed throughout the gathering. Introductions would happen eventually. Deals certainly would. By tomorrow there would probably be datapads on tables and numbers floating between glasses. Tonight, however, Rezlan Ves had specifically told them to enjoy themselves. Nolle intended to make at least a token effort at obedience.

Her attention eventually settled upon the woman nearer the water. Emilia Locke seemed to have embraced the evening with considerably more sincerity than most. Drink in hand. Away from the little concentrations of corporate gravity. Apparently content with the view. That was enough. Nolle started in her direction.

She didn't take the most direct route. There was no reason to make an approach at a party look like an acquisition strategy. She exchanged a few passing pleasantries along the way, replaced her nearly empty glass, and eventually came to rest alongside the railing a comfortable distance from Emilia. For several seconds, Nolle said nothing. She simply looked out across Wielu.

"You know," she finally observed, turning the glass slowly between her fingers, "I think you and I may be the only two people here actually following our host's instructions." Only then did the Near-Duros turn her red eyes toward Emilia, amusement showing plainly upon her face.

She gestured lightly with her glass toward the gathering behind them. "Everyone is supposed to be relaxing, and yet I can practically hear portfolios being evaluated from here." Nolle allowed herself a quiet laugh before extending her free hand. No pitch. No mention of assets under management. Not even the carefully rehearsed introduction that usually accompanied meetings like this.

"Nolle." A beat passed. "And I promise not to ask what you do for at least..." Her eyes flicked briefly toward the horizon as though performing a serious calculation. "Five minutes." Her smile widened. "Possibly ten, if the drinks improve."

Nolle Tron

• Location: Wielu — Caer Badru Resort
• Objective: Make introductions. Find opportunities. Enjoy the evening.
• Outfit: Elegant black resort cocktail dress
• Company: N/A
• Interaction: Emilia Locke

 

[Rue]

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"Vūm is a peculiar investment hedge fund who act in a variety of fields including business negotiation, political influence and as economists. They selectively and financially back exclusive clientele, individuals or other organisations for the purpose of influencing politics, commerce and policies within galactic powers located in the Outer Rim and Mid Rim systems."
-- A description of the peculiar and engimatic investment hedge-fund known colloquially as Vūm.

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Tags: Nolle Tron | Suboden Qor | Nerys Ordon | Dominique Vexx | Tycho Irogane | Vira Halor | Emilia Locke | Rezlan Ves | Laphisto

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Beware the red spiral star as it swirls and churns across a galaxy in chaos.

It begun with a letter to Panoptic Capital.

VŪM " AN INVESTMENT HEDGE-FUND HEADQUARTED ON ENARC " ​ Dear Rezlan Ves, I write on behalf of Vūm, an investment hedge fund with interests extending across the Outer Rim and Mid Rim Territories. With Panoptic Capital hosting the forthcoming event on Wielu, we would welcome the opportunity for your firm to act as our advisors. Specifically, we seek guidance regarding the attending guests, their interests, and potential avenues for new business and meaningful connections. In return, Vūm would be pleased to offer Panoptic Capital an advisory role concerning our Outer Rim and Mid Rim clientele, alongside political insights gathered through our work and relationships throughout the High Republic and Mahporeem Imperial Remnant. We hope this exchange proves mutually valuable to both of our organisations. Respectfully, Rue of Vūm

Wielu emerged beneath it's two suns like a postcard from a richer galaxy. As if Rue didn't need the physical reminder that she was no longer in the harshness and industrialist landscapes often associated to those worlds found out there in the Outer Rim. Turquoise seas stretched beneath endless ribbons of white sand, crowded with glittering resorts, pleasure yachts, and towers of polished glass. Yet beneath the sunlight, something darker moved. Cargo skiffs slipped between the islands, their holds carrying goods better left unregistered, while discreet figures conducted business beneath the palms. Rumours of black market trade continued to persist long after the Black Sun set.

As the Vureykri descended towards the coastal landing platform, the resort façade shimmered through the heat haze. It was beautiful, extravagant, and was almost too perfect. But beyond the beaches and champagne terraces, Wielu's true economy hummed quietly beneath the surface. Every world has it's secret and Vūm was no stranger to a conspiracy. Mahporeem's insignia glinted off the hull of the shuttle and situated underneath it was the Lilaste Order's after it landed in the landing zone designated to it by regional control. As Rue climbed off the transport she took a moment to admire the glint beneath the two beautiful suns before turning to look around at the resort that had been rented out for this exchange. It was clear that Ves had spent money today. He had gone to a lot of effort to impress. That told Rue that he was looking to acquire new clientele to work with. With some consideration and convincing, perhaps, he would be favourable to Rue and her discreet, small hedge-fund after they had written to him with a letter before arrival. Partnerships were often chased so long as the business was good after all.

The often black and dark overalls or suits confining that of a Liann industrialist were often comfortable back on Mahporeem for Rue. But on Wielu it was hot and unbearably so out here on the landing pad. As the rampart mouth of the Vureykri shut behind her Rue quietly hoped that the inside building was cool in an artificial breeze that she was used to whenever Rue engaged in business with the likes of Umbrella or the other clientele she met with amid the Imperial remnants. She found that these people in the Mid-systems were often too comfortable compared to their Outer Rim counterparts even as all-out war was all but inevitable across the Mid Rim. . .

---

 

[Rezlan Ves]

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// EXECUTIVE RECORD LOCATION // WIELU, PRIVATE RESORT ISLAND OBJECTIVE // HOST THE WIELU EXCHANGE

REZLAN VES FOUNDER / CHIEF EXECUTIVE PANOPTIC CAPITAL

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THE WIELU EXCHANGE​

PRIVATE EXECUTIVE RETREAT​

Once the welcome was out of the way, Rezlan let the Exchange get on without him.

The terrace had already begun sorting itself into conversations, guests finding familiar faces or deciding where they wanted to spend the first part of the evening. He moved through it without hurrying, returning greetings and making an introduction when somebody needed one. His whiskey stayed in one gloved hand, the last of the sunlight catching against the glass as he passed the open side of the pavilion.

Near the bar, Rezlan was approached by a young, blonde woman, who was dressed professionally. She leaned close and spoke quietly. Rezlan nodded and accepted the datapad she offered. Rue of Vūm had written before arriving with an offer of reciprocal advice between the two firms that did not need to wait for morning. Rezlan had no objection to the arrangement. He did want the limit around Panoptic's guests understood from the beginning:

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SECURE HOLO-MESSAGE // INCOMING TRANSMISSION

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Ms Rue,

Panoptic would be pleased to accept Vūm's proposal for a reciprocal advisory arrangement.

During the Exchange, we can provide points of interest that may merit Vūm's attention, including sectors, projects, market activity or subjects emerging from the event. To preserve the privacy expected by our attendees, Panoptic will not identify particular individuals for approach or disclose private interests entrusted to us.

Which points you choose to pursue, and whom you decide to discuss them with, is entirely at Vūm's discretion.

Your offer of corresponding insight into Outer and Mid Rim markets and political conditions is welcome.

For any further questions or arrangements during the Exchange, please speak to my assistant, Nara Senn.

Rezlan Ves
Founder & Chief Executive
Panoptic Capital

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ENCRYPTED • HOLO-DOC • CHANNEL 07 • SECURE FILE • CLEARANCE: INTERNAL • AUTH TOKEN: VERIFIED • INTEGRITY: STABLE

He sent it and slipped the datapad back to the young woman.

"Thank you, Nara."

She smiled and stepped away. Anything more detailed could be handled if Rue wanted it. The distinction mattered. Rezlan had invited people to Wielu to make their own connections, not to discover afterward that Panoptic had quietly decided who should be interested in them.

The gathering had filled out while he was occupied. Rezlan took another drink and looked over the terrace without turning it into an inspection. There was little he needed to do yet.

Vira Halor was still within easy reach of an introduction, a lowball glass in hand and no conversation Rezlan would need to interrupt. He changed direction toward her, approaching from within her line of sight before stopping at a comfortable distance. The dark patterning worked into his jacket only became apparent this close, disappearing again whenever the light struck it differently.

He offered a polite smile, taking a moment to admire her outfit before speaking.

"Ms Halor." Rezlan lifted his glass by way of greeting. "Rezlan Ves. I thought I'd introduce myself properly before the room decides tomorrow's meetings should start tonight. It's a pleasure to meet you."

His eyebrows rose above his blue eyes.

"I trust everything so far has been up to expectation?"

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TAGGED

Emilia Locke • Vira Halor • Tycho Irogane • Nolle Tron • Dominique Vexx • Nerys Ordon • Suboden Qor

PANOPTIC CAPITAL / WIELU RESORT

 

[Danger Arceneau]

Interacting with: Open to Interaction
| Dress x | x | x | x | x | x | X | X |

​

Well now, Panoptic certainly knew how to set a table.

It was with that mild amusement that Danger brought up a glass of whiskey to her lips, enjoying the Whyren's as the firey liquid swept its way down. She had attended enough corporate gatherings over the decades to know that the prettiest venues often hosted the most dangerous smiles.

And Wielu a year after its reconstruction, was certainly pretty.

The Queen of Trade stepped onto the sea terrace with an unhurried full hipped stride, a faint breeze catching the silver threaded auburn waves swept over one shoulder. Emerald fire eyes swept across executives, investors, financiers, and industrialists while she gently rocked the amber glass between her manicured fingers.

Accommodations paid, transportation handled, all the drinks flowing freely, and three whole days with enough credits gathered beneath one roof to make a Hutt reconsider his retirement plans...and apparently tonight was not merely for business.

Danger nearly smiled.

Sure as a Jawa swore the droid only had one owner.

Half the terrace was already sizing up the other half, and she reckoned more than one friendly introduction would have a term sheet attached to it before dessert. Colette and Montgomery Arceneau had taught her well, a good host with freeflowing drink and conversation made the galaxy turn and bagged a higher profit. It was all about networking and maintaining contacts. Contacts that ensured Arceneau Trade and its subsidiaires continued to move freely as one of the largest intergalactic neutral companies.

Still, there was something to be said for letting folks loosen their collars before asking what they were worth. Mama always said one caught more credits with charm than a blockade with blasters, after all.

So Danger listened to Rezlan's welcome, lifting her glass in acknowledgment before the gathering dissolved once more into conversation.

Well, might as well see what wandered into the waterin' hole.

With that, Danger began making her way through the terrace, offering familiar faces a warm greeting and unfamiliar ones an interested glance.

Sure, business could wait until morning.

Whether everyone else managed the same remained to be seen.