Contract Wheels of Industry (THR)

[Tycho Irogane]

T H E E D
C O N V E N T I O N
C E N T E R

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The convention center buzzed with activity. The Galactic Corporate Conference cast a very wide net, attempting to entice the attendance of high level executives and bureaucrats across an enormous swath of industries from medical supplies to advanced holotech to members of the miltiary industrial complex.

And, of course, raw resources: precious metals and rare minerals.

Tycho Irogane entered the center wearing a sable and or tailored Atrisian suit, with a high collar and dragon motifs embroidered into the tunic beneath the jacket. The shell spider silk looked fashionable enough to the regular eye, but would soak up a blaster bolt from any would-be assassin. Tycho had ensured that through personal testing.

Two-toned blonde and dark bronze hair slicked back, his pale gray eyes surveyed the center with an emotionless pan. The golden-skinned Firrerreo knew that his rivals would be here. It had been a long time since he had been back on Naboo, or anywhere in the nearby systems.

Adjusting a cufflink idly, Tycho pursed his lips. Bacta would be the talk of the day, but he had not come here looking to make deals on bacta. They were all missing the real winnere here: Manaan and Kolto.

Tycho sniffed and strode into the gathering, scanning for familiar faces.

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[Makai Dashiell]

THEED CONVENTION CENTER

Wearing | Gear : X | X | X | X | X | L3-37 | Interacting With : OPEN

Makai had almost missed the event.

A visit to Mahporeem Remnant space had proved haphazard. He was jailed and roughed up a little, the fading bruise under his left eye a testament to something he could have easily brushed off as a fever dream. All because he didn't want to get on an idiotic train.

The Dashiells didn't have the best relationship with Mahporeem but Makai had never regarded the relationship hostile. Icy and terse but he had never felt he was in any real danger until recently.He wasn't sure how to take the entire situation.

If they expected him to be intimidated he wasn't.

Pushing the thoughts of the recent events out of his mind, the half-Galan fixed the button on his navy blue suit as he entered the convention center. Focus was shifting towards what he could capitalize on during times of turmoil in the Republic. Currently that was bacta and to some extent, kolto. The beauty of any operations he typically handled? Well outside Sith territory. His work in the Unknown Regions was slow, but pushing forward.

One of those worlds was an ocean world, perfect for growing the medical crop.

Thirty-Seven was reunited with him, having just came from the aforementioned Unknown Regions project. His droid assistant stayed on his left side, optical sensors searching as they walked deeper into the belly of the beast.

"Thirty-Seven, keep an eye out of any Republic Senators. I'm eager to pitch my idea before the Trade Federation weasels their way in."

[ Understood Sir. ]

If he didn't see any Senators tonight? Well, there was always knocking on their office doors come morning.