| abstract
| - A good day for races on Nar Shaddaa. A tournament has been going for a few days, numerous heats and some of the better known racers in attendance as they climb the ladders. This also means a few extra's in attendance amongst the viewing stands. One such would be Rixt, space faring Ithorian not associated with any of the herdships. He seems to make his way well enough, not quite Ithorian beyond physical at least, trying to earn an honest credit. Or, a credit at least. While he wasn't trying to press much around Nar Shaddaa for information, as pushing a little too much in the wrong direction always seems to earn the wrong attention. Though it seems that minor push pointed him in the direction of the arena, there might be one he's looking for, or looking for information for that is. Taking up a few pools as he works his way around the veiwing stands, some known faces to him that would trust him enough to gamble, he's in good spirits. Occasionaly this section of track thrums alive as Swoops pass this portion, but elsewise the spectacle is on the cctv broadcast on the large screens with play by play commitary. As most focus on the race, he seems to look for the one he's come in search of, the swoops and gambling all secondary to that current curiousity. Its a shoestring of a lead, but he figured to try and take it while the opportunity presented itself. A strange figure stands at the viewing window. A human man dressed a little too nicely for the typical Nar Shadda gambler, but thats not even the strangest thing. The only exposed skin, his gaunt face and bald head, are a network of fading scars more intricate than a Coruscant traffic pattern. Lights blink on a small plate at the back of his skull connecting to the top of what appears to be cybernetic vertebrae. Judging by the bulges in his jacket, this implant runs the length of his spine. He stands nearly motionless; stiff and statuesque. The combined effect makes him look more like a droid in human skin than a man. The only movement comes from the glass of whiskey swirling lightly in his right hand. He holds a betting card in his left. Once the strange figure is spotted, discerning a moment if it is a droid, but noticing the whiskey to settle that, Rixt finds that a curious match to what he'd been after. Name and cyborg, the place isn't swarming with them, sure a few who can afford cybernetics probably have them, but this one, seems more intricate. The Ithorian has to move up the stands to where the man has choosen to take vigil in watching the races. Slow move, clear of his intent if the man should observe. Nearing that he can be heard over the buzz of the crowd and the occasional swoop or three that rumble by this section of track, he calls out to the man. "Not a bad place to watch from," his mouthes mostly in unison, slight emphasis the right side, the Ithorian approaching from the left. "I prefer a clear view. Those observant enough can go a long way to hedging their bets..." His accent is thick. The smooth, deliberate cadence and pretentious air of the inner core. He speaks over his shoulder still fixated on the swoops below. "Life, Mr. Rixt, is a gambit. And as I'm sure you know all to well, information can tip the odds in your favor. I make it my business to be...well informed." Listening to the man talk, thick of accent, Rixt looks more at the track below, nonchalantly. Less interest in the race so much itself, never his intent so much, though he enjoys a good race. Less for him about winning. "That is a good business to be in, if one is gambling at life." His voice echoes between mouthes, more favoring the right still, at least to help the other understand him, not presuming the other might know his native tongue. "I see the gambit, I find myself more want to be setting the odds for those gambling. Letting them enjoy that pursuit, simply making what I can along the way." "A noble pursuit." The racers speed by, drowning out conversation. The man turns from the track and brings his attention to the conversation. He studies the Ithorian with a piercing gaze as the roar of the swoops dies into the distant turns of the track. "I trust our mutual friend is compensating you well for this visit?" A slight nod of his large head, waiting for the swoops to blow by quickly enough. Hearing him address why he's hear, Rixt nods again, not much surprise coming to him, not such that shows in evidence on his hammerhead. Speaking more out of the right mouth, as the left mouth chuckles mildly at the directness of the other, "No compensation has been set, it is relative to the knowledge that may be acquired. And as the flow of a good captain's run, it goes either way. Depends which party interests me the most." "Well then. I'll be interested to see how well you do." Elias takes sip of his whiskey and allows it to wash over him before continuing. "If her meddling was a concern, I would not have allowed this meeting." Another lap rushes by sending the usual rumbling vibrations through the viewing tower. The mysterious man takes this opportunity for another sip. "I may have the means to acquire some...flora. The kind that will make make your friends feel right at home so far from Ithor." A grin from Rixt, both mouths, his eyestalk turns more to look at the man. The meddling not a concern is taken at face value, its enough to place this man at least as the inquiry that was given to him. The later information of more curiousity for the moment. "Well, this peeks the curiousity, something we can certainly talk about. I'm curious what sort of flora this is, not all being of equal value, thus little basis to consider how this acquisition could pass from you to me." "I'm sure you know of the Karobba flower. It’s from Ithor, but I have heard it is rare even to your people." Elias lets this information settle while another lap interrupts their conversation. "There is a research facility that has managed to grow it hydroponically. It's a delicate procedure, but they need a large supply for their research. They hope to develop a toxin from the plant's unique pollen that will hinder a Jedi's connection to the force. A small sample will not be missed. I have a contact who can make this happen" The man paces his conversation with another sip of whiskey. "Many other exotic species can be acquired through this contact. In return for a steady supply for your garden, I wish to keep you on retainer for a longer term project. This project will, of course, require absolute discretion" Once again the roar of the race overwhelms the discussion. As the announcer calls the lap leaders, the man raises a finger to the Ithorian requesting a moment. His attention flicks to the track the quickly to the time display overhead. His eyes squint as he turns back to the race. He taps impatiently on his betting card, fixated. Just then one of the swoops erupts in a ball of fire taking three others with it. One bike barrels into the wall sending a shower of flaming debris over into the audience. The remaining pack crosses the finish line with an unexpected victor. The man smiles widely, examines his card and drains his glass of whiskey. "How does this proposal sit with you?" "That's curious," returns Rixt on the Karobba flower, knowing of it at least. "If your friend knows something they're using to propogate the plant in a controlled enviroment, that would be useful as well." For what Elias has on the table, then a consideration. The slender fingers of his left hand comes up to itch between his dual throats. Quiet as the man indicates, but a chuckle at the results, nothing like stacking odds in ones favor. That itch continues, slightly more to the left side, straining that voice when both his mouthes talk again. "You have my interest I'll admit, what say we focus on this one plant, and perhaps something you're after now that I could obtain for you. We see how that works and, if it goes well, you can certainly hold me for this long term project." Not a question of how diffuclt the project may be, more that if it was a challenge, this would be more curious to Rixt. His chosen 'work' is less about what can be earned versus the challenge in acquiring what others are after. "I think it sits well with me." "Moff Jacob Festus." The man says as he turns to leave, clearly satisfied with the all of results of this outting. "Bring me all the information you can find on his current activities in one week, and you shall have your flower." He pats a boney hand on Rixt's arm, and heads to the counter to collect his winnings.
|
![[RDF Data]](/fct/images/sw-rdf-blue.png)