Target Acquisitions

[Ceto Rübezahl]

11 ABY

Ceto smiled softly to himself, allowing him to sway back and forth ever so slightly to the humming rhythm of the descending elevator. There was no real purpose to it, no private thoughts or hidden agendas responsible for it: he simply knew that his companion would notice, and would find it distracting and irritating in equal measure.

That notion created a feedback loop of a sort, the smile taking on a new flourish, not of malice or cruelty but genuine contentment. Ceto had never been one for sentiment, save for when it came to his sister: his parents and his upbringing had - by a mixture of design and accident - made sure to extinguish that from him almost completely. But there was something nice about it, frustratingly formless as that word was: standing here as the pieces of his crowning achievement slowly began to fall into place, with family - albeit reluctantly - standing by his side.

At first, Ceto had questioned the hidden motives behind Aiden Tahmores' arrival at Cloud City. He had submitted a request to the Throne for assistance in establishing a safe and secure Greater Javin, within which his new Corporate Authority could thrive. Even as the transmission had raced through hyperspace, he had braced himself against the dread and complications that the arrival of an Imperial Knight would create. Instead, it had been an Imperial Guard who answered the call: one with the friendliest of potential faces, all things considered. Myriad potential explanations had swarmed through his mind. In some ways, the Knights had superceded the Guards: perhaps the arrival of one of the crimson-clad warriors of the Empire was an indication of just how low his cause fell on the Empire's priorities. Perhaps the Imperial Guards found themselves at a loose end, and had jumped at this chance for renewed relevance, with Aiden drawing the short straw. Perhaps the Empress herself had made the call, using it as an excuse to position one of her personal guards in closer proximity to her sister-in-law, the Baroness Administrator here on Cloud City, without it being obvious that she was doing so.

It had occupied much of his thoughts, and much discussion and rumour amid the executive circles of Greater Javin society. Ceto had come to a decision, however: he had chosen an explanation that served him best, and had accepted it into his mind as fact. Despite his protests to the contrary, Ceto had decided, Aiden was here because he wished to be. An opportunity had presented, and his cousin had ensured that it would be him who was given the responsibility of responding.

Of course, Aiden had no doubt expected his time here on Cloud City to be somewhat more temporary than the circumstances that Ceto had since manipulated, but Governor Rübezahl wasn't about to apologise for exploiting the resources at his disposal for the betterment of his personal designs, and for the good of the Empire: he was a kriffing Moff, after all; it was all part of the job description.

Not was Ceto about to apologise for his actions here today, either. Though he would never have described himself as underhanded or manipulative, he was certainly willing to concede to being described as shrewd. One of his chief concerns as the architect of the Greater Javin was image: and in the Anoat Sector particularly, the Empire's image was far from favourable. The corporations he desperately needed to invest in the region required a certain feeling of safety before they would do so; but the citizens of the Javin needed to feel safe as well, from the Empire as much as anything else. That was the delicate balance that Aiden was here to help him address, and their solution, while innovative, was not easy to implement. They needed investment, and not merely financial: they needed people willing to ante up and contribute time and resources; and with so many things in business, no one wanted to take that risky first step.

It was Aiden who had found this particular potential candidate. Elysian Acquisitions. The name was certainly familiar to Ceto, and he had a fleeting memory of perhaps meeting the company's owner, Emelie Shadowstar, at one of the Greater Javin's corporate fundraisers: she was not the sort of person that one was likely to forget. Still, her business itself had largely avoided his direct attention: larger than the independent traders and spacers moving through the Greater Javin, but small enough that the positive attention Ceto had the power to provide would be a genuine boon.

Quietly, Ceto replayed the names and details that Aiden had provided in his mind, rehearsing them as if they were lines.

[Aiden Tahmores]

"You're doing the thing again," Aiden interrupted.

He'd tolerated whatever imaginary elevator music Ceto had pretended to be listening to. The first two times it had worked, Aiden's mind frantically trying to decipher what melody might potentially fit with the swaying rhythm and intermittent head-bobs that his asshole cousin was displaying. The third time, Aiden had realised that it was a ploy, all random twitches and motions designed to wind him up, almost as effectively as that smug little smile did. From the fourth time onwards, Aiden had fought back, staring resolutely at the wall opposite and blasting the rhythmic bass line of Captain Sweeg's greatest hits in his mind.

Then Ceto had stopped, his fake thinking turning into actual thinking. Specifically, it had turned into actor thinking: a very specific - and very annoying - kind of thinking that made him seem like Ceto was talking to an audience, except with his mouth mesh-taped shut, and the volume cranked down to a minimum. It wasn't quite the same hand wavey pretend presentation that Ceto had practised in his bedroom while he thought no one was watching during all those summer visits to the Tahmores homestead on Naboo, and was a far cry from the theatrical gesticulations and over-exaggerated miming that happened whenever Aiden had the opportunity to listen to music loudly in a private room, but either way it was embarrassing, and Ceto should be embarrassed. Except he wouldn't be, because he was doing it in the damned elevator, when there was no one here to see him behaving like a pretentious actatorial tool bag.

Aiden carefully drew in a breath and released it, as covertly as he could manage. There was nothing to be gained by letting Ceto know how effectively he was getting to him. This was a war, damn it, and Aiden would not concede victory that easily. The honour of House Tahmores was at stake, and House Rübezahl was going down.

"I have said this before, and this is your last warning: I will record you, and I will show it to people."

The smirk on the Governor's features grew ever so slightly. Inconveniently, the elevator chose that moment to stop, the opening doors unleashing them into the corridors of the Administrative Levels. Aiden didn't allow that to stop him though: Ceto wouldn't escape that easily.

"I'm serious," he continued, falling into step beside but slightly behind Ceto. "There are planets where law enforcement officers wear body cams. Hell, I'm sure the Empire has some sort of comparable spy tech kicking around somewhere. Maybe a classy lapel pin. Something you won't even notice. I'll start wearing it every day, and sooner or later you'll forget it's there, and then the actor mumbles will start, and then bam! Upload to the holonet. Seventeen trillion views."

The longer Ceto continued to walk, amused but unphased and unresponsive, the more Aiden's irk levels peaked. His stride slowed a little, falling back into a generic bodyguard position behind his celebrity cousin.

"I'd like to see what your fanbase makes of that," he grumbled, mostly to himself.

[Vittore Montegue]

It's okay. Just be cool.

There were few times in Vittore's life that he had ever felt this nervous. The day where he'd chased Sadie to the starport, thinking that she was going to leave him forever, and had fumbled out some feeble approximation of his feelings for her? That was definitely a ten on the nervousness scale, but this was clocking in at a solid seven, which for a man who routinely fought Wookiee murderers and wrestled krayt dragons with his bare hands, that was pretty damn high.

There were few things that mattered to Vittore Montegue. Sadie K'Vesh was chief among them. His absentee brother was another, though the longer he was missing, the further he slipped down that scale. Then there was Republic Rangers. To some people, it was just a show. To others, it was shameful propoganda, one that in hindsight had been an early warning of the manipulation Palpatine had in store for the Empire's youth.

For Vittore Montegue, it had been everything.

That sounded like an exaggeration, but it wasn't. He had been too young to watch the holoseries when it had first premiered during the Clone Wars. As the Empire fortified its place in the galaxy however, syndication and reruns had brought it to his attention, and he had been captivated. It had been a glimpse into the Clone Wars that the young Vittore otherwise understood only through its aftermath. It offered a flicker of understanding into the recent history that had shaped his father, a subtle excuse for Hugo's behaviour that had seemed like enough in those formative years. When their father's work as a Senate Commando had sent him away to distant planets, Republic Rangers had been there on the holobox in Uncle Elroy's sitting room. When Hugo had left the Commandos behind and become a bounty hunter, the complete Republic Rangers collection had been there on demand in every sleezy motel room from one side of the galaxy to another. It had been a story about soldiers, warriors, and heroes: people whose actions, people whose morals, and people whose values had - for better or worse - shaped much of the man Vittore had become, in spite and defiance of his father's influence to the contrary. At his worst moments, Sadie promised Vittore that he was a good man; if he was, then Republic Rangers deserved much of the credit.

There were two types of Republic Rangers fans, as far as Vittore was concerned: there were fans whose favourite character was Ensign Alexander Carmine, and then there were fans that were wrong. Vittore had heard all of the arguments before. Lieutenant Scanlan Yahto was the true hero of the Republic Rangers story. Scanner had been there since the beginning; Alex was just some upstart rookie who only got screen time because he made the teen ladies watching go all damp in their special places. It was all bullshit. Well, okay, that last part was maybe true, but Alex Carmine was everything that the Republic Rangers stood for. Sure, Scanner was the competent professional. Gomi was the salt-of-the-earth gruff guy. Ray was the smart nice guy, who was way too much like Vittore's kid brother. Jo, well, Jo was just sort of there. But Alex? He was the making of story, the average guy who made something of himself, who crawled up from nothing to catch up with and stand among people who were already exceptional. Teenage Vittore saw himself in Alex Carmine, almost as much as he saw himself in the bed of Alex's love interest, Tiana; and he craved his father's absent approval just as much as Alex craved it from Commander Abbán.

True, Alexander Carmine was nothing but a fictional character. Yet, everything that Vittore took from him, and everything that Vittore felt towards him was real: as real as the actor who had portrayed him for three seasons and a completely underrated spinoff.

Ceto Rübezahl.

They said not to meet your heroes. That applied doubly so when it came to the actors who had portrayed your heroes. But Ceto Rübezahl seemed like the exception. Here was a man who had taken the life lessons his character embodied, and had implemented them in his own life. Rübezahl had started with nothing - wealthy upbringing not withstanding, of course - and had made something of himself. He set his acting career aside, and dedicated himself to service, to hard graft, to climbing the ladder one rung at a time, and now here he was: a Force-damned Moff. While he didn't give the slightest damn about service to the Empire specifically, that dedication to something felt worthy of Vittore's respect. Maybe, if his life had unfolded differently, if mom had never left and dad's crusade had never started, maybe this was the sort of man Vittore might have become. Not the man he wanted to be - his life here on Cloud City was pretty freakin' great, and Vittore wouldn't change a damned thing about it - but still. Comparing himself to Alex Carmine, to Ceto Rübezahl, was one of the few times when Vittore looked at himself and didn't entirely hate what he saw.

And now here he was.

Ever since Vittore had agreed to stay here on Cloud City, the faintest, vaguest possibility of his path crossing with Ceto Rübezahl had flickered in the back corners of his mind. But Moffs were busy, right? They usually had a whole sector to look after, and Rübezahl was awesome enough that he looked after three. Cloud City was just one settlement among probably hundreds in the Greater Javin, and not even an important one at that. The chances were astronomically slim, and that was before you even factored in the fact that Rübezahl and he didn't exactly rub shoulders with the same sort of folks. He'd been so intensely jealous when Emelie had swanned off to that fundraiser a few months back, and had wrestled with whether or not he should bullshit together some excuse for why he needed to be there as her date for the sake of her safety and protection, before deciding the risk of hurting Sadie's feelings by doing such a thing was too damned high.

But today? This wasn't a chance encounter. This wasn't Vittore showing up to something where Rübezahl was going to be. Ceto Rübezahl was coming here. Not to see him, at least, not directly, but as far as Vittore was concerned, it was close e-damn-nough.

A nervous hand reached out beneath the conference table to rest atop Sadie's, dosing himself with the buoy of confidence that her presence always provided. He sat, razor straight, like a Cadet on review - a Ranger on review - in his finest, cleanest, smartest-looking clothes. Is that a new shirt? Sadie had asked. You're damn right it was, one of those stupidly expensive shirts where you paid for the classy brand, but the brand was so classy that you didn't even get to know it was that brand unless you took the shirt off and looked at the label. When it came to the ten most important days of his life, Vittore had every confidence that Sadie K'Vesh would be front and centre of each and every one of them, but this? This was a solid contender for eleventh place, and all Vittore could manage to think about was the billion different ways that he was about to screw it up.

[Sadie K'Vesh]

Sadie felt all kinds of out of place. Most of it were probably on account of being in the swanky offices that the boss lady occupied rather than her home turf in the unhealthy like glow of more screens than a person rightly should have been able to keep an eye on. The rest? Well, that came down to everyone else, sadly.

Yeah, okay, so fair enough Boss Lady had gone and given her and Vittore some swanky new company titles - Lead of Data Acquisitions in her case, an equally shiny and swanky Personal version for Vittore - but still. Emelie was as always dressed to the damn nines and looking the right proper smart that put a whole heap ton of people to shame. Atton, well, her uncle looked damned good in a suit and Sadie figured there weren't a soul alive that could argue against that. Then there was Vitt, dressed to damn impress as far as she could tell and she knew it had more to do with who they were meeting with than the why.

Then... there was Sadie. Okay so yeah, she'd tried to find something nicer to wear. Not no dress or skirt or anything crazy bound like that, but a clean pair of pants and probably downright the nicest shirt she owned; topped off with a new jacket courtesy of her new life on Cloud City. Still felt a bit of a slob compared to the others. Aw well, weren't like any of them IT folks ever had a grand reputation for being classy appearing, at least she could play that part well. At the very least she wasn't the only one who was dressed less than fancy-like; but somehow Elira was owning that whole casual thing in a way that utterly vexed Sadie.

But it was just as these stupid thoughts were making her want to sink into her seat that Sadie felt the hand on hers. She gave Vitt a glance out of the side of her eye and couldn't help that stupid smile forming on her face as her hand rolled over and her fingers wove between his and took hold. Was a reminder that she weren't alone here, that she weren't the only one uncomfortable and out of their damn element. At least she weren't getting ready to meet her gorram hero face to face. Not that she had one, mind you, but all the same, she really shouldn't have been as worried as she felt.

[Atton Kira]

Sickening.

That was the word for it, no question: the feeling that filled you when you watched Sadie K'Vesh and Vittore Montegue coexist within the same bubble. It was a good word. A multipurpose word. Sick was how you felt when something disgusted you. It was how you felt when something insidious had infected the balance of your echo system. Sick was how you felt when your world was turned upsidedown, or when fundementals like gravity disappeared, or when dread an anxiety became too much for you. Sick was how you felt when you overindulged. Sick was how you felt when you overdosed on something too sweet. That was them, alright: lovesick, and sickly sweet. It was as hideous and disgusting as it was precious and wonderful, but if things continued on as they were, sick and tired was how Atton was going to end up feeling.

He fought back a sigh. These two just needed to bloody hurry up and get it over with. At this rate, someone was going to wind up getting hurt - though with their track record, that'd probably end up being the thing that'd finally shove them all the way together. In the meantime, the rest were suffering spectators. Perhaps they should start a pool; make a game of it. Either that, or he'd have to lock the two of them naked in a room and pump it full of every aphrodesiac he could find.

His attention shifted to the others in the room, wondering what kind of sickness they were each stricken by. Montegue was decidedly pale, though if Atton understood things right, he was a whole different kind of lovesick, and they were all in for an afternoon of entertainment as the bounty hunter's composure completely failed in the face of his childhood man-crush. For a moment, Atton almost regretted the fact that he didn't have a recording device handy to record for posterity this momentus day, and momentus embarassment. The aborted thought made him chuckle. As if he needed to actively record anything, when the entire surveillance set-up of Cloud City was readily at his beck and call.

Sadie meanwhile seemed to be stricken by a different kind of nervousness; or perhaps it was merely discomfort. Part of Atton wondered if this was cruel, requiring her to be here, so far beyond her zone of familiarity and comfort. It was respect and appreciation that drove them to do so: Sadie was essential to Elysian, and the Exchange that lurked beneath it, and her hand-crafted role in the company was a recognition of that. She deserved to be here, represented as one of Elysian's key fundamentals. Yet, when such gestures were made, it was easy to forget the people on the receiving end. Just because Sadie deserved the recognition didn't mean she deserved to endure the discomfort it brought with it. Was including her worse than excluding her? Or, had their mistake been not taking the due time to make this space as familiar and comfortable to her as the Underworld was, in preparation of events such as this? They would need to do better; but as with so many of such things, it was all a matter of time.

Equally out of place was Elira, though his sister hid it better than her daughter did. She had vastly more practice, of course: they both did. Alderaan had a habit of training a person to endure situations that fell beyond the scope of their comfort. That, combined with a few decades of the mandatory overconfidence that came with being a transport captain of dubious legality, Elira practically thrived at being out of place. Her approach was to not fit in and own it; far less of a situational chameleon than Atton had learned to become. But then, he was the bastard child, and Elira was the heiress: notice had been inescapable for her, whereas for Atton his invisibility came as a deeply desirable relief.

And at last, their fearless leader. Emelie Shadowstar. Confident and regal as ever. The Governor of three sectors was about to walk into the offices of a modest and minor corporation, and yet he might as well have been arriving for an audience with royalty. She occupied her seat at the head of the table as if it were a throne, any sickness she felt no doubt wine-related and nothing else. It was part of her charm, the appeal that had drawn Atton to her in the first place, an attitude that had solicited his investment through pure passive charisma. It was a stark contrast to how Atton did business, even more of one than the contrast with his sister: standing in the spotlight, rather than lurking in the shadows. It worked for her, and so be it: the more attention she drew to herself, the more disinterest there was in him, allowing him to shuffle towards his retirement in peace.

Atton shifted in his seat, leaning towards Elira, peeling his attention away from reconnaissance as he offered her a few muttered words.

"If we hold hands under the table as well, how long do you think before Saidra will notice and get weirded out?"

[Elira Asael]

Elira couldn't help but smirk at the question, the thought of it, the fact that it made her think of not just her kid that it would weird out but probably the boss and the Montegue boy too. The newcomers would be blissfully ignorant and really that would be a shame, if you couldn't go and make everyone uncomfortable, was it really worth the effort?

"Far too quick to be any fun," she whispered back.

Still, it might serve the children right. They were probably oblivious how their awkward little physical exchanges were completely transparent to everyone around them and while Captain Asael didn't exactly try and make a habit of contemplating what her offspring and the bounty hunter got up to, she really wished they'd just make a move forward and act more like normal damn adults and less like some doe-eyed teenagers. Ah well, all things in time, and she probably should have been happy for them both. Or at the very least give Montegue all sorts of disapproving glares like a parent was supposed to do. Instead she just found herself amused. Or at least amused enough to take her mind briefly off the waiting that was taking place and the no doubt mind-numbing meeting that awaited them.

The Captain knew why she was there. Atton and Shadowstar had explained it to her, but that didn't mean she had to like sitting about some swanky office waiting on some government official. After all this time she was still a firm believer in that the best transactions and alliances were formed in a bar, and worse still, Shadowstar had one. A perfectly good one that could have been utilized!

Boss better have had plans to break out some refreshments for her guests at the very least or this was going to be a long damn meeting.

[Emelie Shadowstar]

She really shouldn't have felt nervous. This was her office, her domain, and when Emelie was feeling particularly grand about it all - her territory. Still, it was about to be invaded. Not by a hostile force, perhaps, but by something far more intimidating and yet not. This was a visit meant to be mutually beneficial, yet at the end of the day, all delusions of grandeur aside; Elysian was a small, private company and they were about to meet with a man who not only called the shots for Cloud City, not even just Bespin or the system that shared the name, but the damn Governor of the entirety of Greater Javin. Emelie should have been reveling in the attention from such power, but instead she found herself uncertain.

Not that she showed it, at least that she had going for her. An entire lifetime of fake it until you make it fed into this moment. It also helped she was surrounded by her people, her safety net as it were. They all looked to her to lead their little motley crew and that, well that Emelie could do no matter who it was they were facing.

So her best face was put on, her most modest yet stylish clothing worn, and it was she who first stood when Nen arrived with their guests and they were shown into the conference room. She offered her assistant a pleasant smile, perfectly professional.

"Thank you, Mr. Lev'i. That will be all for now."

For his credit, her new assistant acted his part well, though he did seem to rather strangely clutch some sort of - was that a clipboard? With actual paper? Nevermind. She had other things to concern herself with.

Her hand extended across the table that had been perfectly designed to be large enough to be comfortable for all attendees yet small in width to allow for exactly what she was after.

"Moff Rübezahl, welcome to Elysian Acquisitions. I must say, it is quite an honor to have you consider our little enterprise worthy of your time."

All smiles, nothing rehearsed to sound fake, the barest hint of an coquettish tone behind the greeting. All around exactly the first sort of impression she wanted to make. Not bad, Em. Not bad at all.

[Ceto Rübezahl]

"If it's all the same with you, Ms Shadowstar," Ceto countered with an effortless charming smile, "I'd be happier with Ceto. Titles are what Empires and Republics use to try and convince us that some folks are better or lesser than others, and that's not how I do business. We're all equals here, and this is your house, so if anyone gets the fancy titles and deference, it should be you. I'll take 'Governor' at a push, but Ceto is the name my mother gave me, and it seems a waste not to use it."

A soft chuckle escaped.

"Besides, a 'Moff' sounds more like a furry woodland creature than an impressive title to me; the kind of thing I'd be charged an arm and a leg to have extracted from the intake vents of my ship."

His eyes deviated from Emelie for just a moment, skimming across the individuals that surrounded her. Ceto filtered through them in turn. Emelie Shadowstar. Atton Kira. Elira Asael. Vittore Montegue. Sadie K'Vesh. His attention paused on that last name for a moment; it had been familiar when he'd read her file, but a headshot on an Imperial datapad never truly gave you a sense of the person. Now he had an opportunity to put a real face to the name, a flicker of recognition ghosted across his lips.

"My associate here is Aiden Tahmores," Ceto continued, gesturing to the Guardsman with a thumb over his shoulder. "He's my security advisor, and cousin, and he's probably planning on standing up for this entire meeting, but about part-way through he's going to realise that his legs are tired and that standing makes him look like an idiot, so he should probably just do us all a favour and sit down like a normal person. And you -"

The gesturing thumb transformed into a wagging finger, and a different kind of smile blossomed across the Governor's features as it aimed itself at Sadie.

"I'm not always great with names, but I never forget a face."

His attention split itself between Shadowstar and K'Vesh.

"Congratulations, Ms Shadowstar: you have in your employ the finest slicer and codesmith in half the galaxy. I don't mean that as hyperbole either: Miss K'Vesh here saved my life, the lives of countless others, and perhaps even civilization as we know it the last time our paths crossed. I must admit, I'm a little surprised to see her on this side of the border, but I'm pleased to see she's found herself in somewhat less treasonous company this time around; and if this is the kind of talent that your company attracts, Ms Shadowstar, then I apologise, because my initial impression clearly was not impressed enough."

[Sadie K'Vesh]

Sadie knew better than to groan or let one of them really outward displays of oh frak me embarrassment settle in. She did go an slump in her seat a smidge at the spotlight was turned on her, though. This were her problem and granted it was one she was working right on, but being skilled and having people go and actually recognize those skills? Well, there were a reason a great deal of her activity had always been done under aliases and behind screens; even her damn stuff with the band had been handled by letting Ronan go and be lead quetarra player and regulating herself to the background.

At least her being there and made all uncomfortable served a purpose this round as the Moff had gone and pointed out. Her being that familiar face, that person he'd seen first hand what she were capable of? Yeah, made the boss lady look right and proper with it. Not that it all came down to Sid's qualifications but it was a start, a way of opening doors, and Sadie couldn't help but go and wonder if it was that reason that Ems had made her appear at this meeting for reals.

Something to question later, then. For now... for now she was still working on watching the folks in the room looking her way, including the Moff's security advisor type and... Oh kriff - Vittore. Sure she'd gone and spoken a little here and there of that whole savin' th' verse from th' angry lizard folks thing, but she'd almost phrased it in some way that she weren't quite sure if Vitt took it serious. But now, well, with Cap'n's damn bloody hero stating that she had saved his life.

Aw frell.

[Vittore Montegue]

Vittore stared at her, so overcome with conflicting emotions that his expression couldn't decide which to display, and so chose none. He had shared his heart, his home, and his trust with Sadie K'Vesh. Countless nights they had curled up close, sharing everything they could think of sharing. So many of them, Vittore had shared his precious Republic Rangers with her. Yet, after all those episodes, all those evenings, all that something special he had thought they had shared; and never once had she thought to mention, Oh hey, that guy you admire and respect so much? We saved the galaxy together once. It was cool. We're friends now.

It was a betrayal. A deep, wounding, unforgiveable betrayal.

"That's our Sadie."

He said forcing his expression to adjust into a polite smile, a soft but stern we are going to talk about this later squeeze offered to Sadie's hand beneath the table.

"Full of surprises."

[Emelie Shadowstar]

Well, that certainly made things a bit easier. Usually breaking the ice in these sort of things came down to her and some flattering comment; not that Emelie had entirely ruled them out, but to have the Governor speak so highly of one of her people certainly set a tone she was more than willing to accept. It also made introductions a bit easier.

"Well, Ceto. I'm sure you'll be glad to find that Ms. K'Vesh here is now my Lead of Data Acquisitions. Perhaps not quite as illustrious as saving the galaxy, but I'm afraid we're quite taken with her all the same."

It wasn't entirely hollow, it was pride, honest pride that let her speak of her little slicer in such a way. And it didn't end there as she continued down the table.

"This man to my left here is her counterpart, Captain Vittore Montegue, Lead of Personal Acquisitions," despite the fact she could feel something pass between her two love-sick employees and she would have liked nothing more than to smack Vittore upside the head for the sudden urge that Sadie seemed to have to make herself as small as possible, Emelie couldn't let the introduction go so plainly. "An excellent and skilled bounty hunter, who I believe last I counted saved the lives of... All three women in this room?"

Okay, so it wasn't the brag equivalent to what Ceto had bestowed upon Vittore's partner, but she hoped it perked up his pride just a little.

"To my right, my Chief Financial Officer and most trusted advisor, Doctor Atton Kira," she left it at that, not as insult, but in some way to honor the mystery that the man tended to shroud himself in more often than not.

"And lastly, Captain Elira Asael who handles the majority of Elysian's bulk cargo shipments. One of the most skilled pilots I have had the pleasure of meeting," She sensed where she was going with this and instantly let her smirk refocus. "Captain Montegue being the other, naturally."

It made sense to exclude the other Captain in her life, from this conversation, from this meeting. It wasn't his style, after all. Something Emelie wasn't quite sure to be thankful for.

[Ceto Rübezahl]

You didn't have to be an Academy-ratified casting director to peg the family resemblance between Kira and Asael - or Atton and Elira, as they would be if he was invited to address them as such - nor a behavioral expert to recognise the something between Sadie and her Captain counterpart, as Ms Shadowstar had so intriguingly put it. In the former case, it was the jawline, and something around the eyes that gave it away; in the latter, the not particularly discrete holding of hands beneath the table that served as the biggest clue. Silently, Ceto cast his appraising eye over Vittore Montegue: classically handsome, gruff voice; a bounty hunter, skilled pilot, and saviour of damsels, apparently. He allowed himself the subtlest of secret smiles as his attention flitted back to Sadie for a moment. Good for her.

He made sure to notice the titles as well, and the specific descriptors of each, compiling together the character details and subtle nuances of the ensemble arrayed before him. It was an odd mix of people, and a rather surprising skill set for the kind of corporation that he had assumed Elysian Acquisitions to be. Yet it was all there in the name, wasn't it? The deliberate enigma. Acquisitions. What did that even mean? It had the cadence of a simple transport company, and yet Ceto was well aware it was far more than that. Data Acquisitions, conducted by a slicer and codebreaker of considerable talent. Personal Acquisitions, no doubt an inspired veil for what Ceto knew from his research - and Ms Shadowstar's introduction - was a sanctioned bounty hunter. And then there was Atton Kira - Doctor Atton Kira - an enigma within the enigma. A Doctor, but of what, precisely? Ceto's cursory sweep for information had unearthed indicators that the man was some sort of legal professional, or perhaps a Holonet News reporter, or a barman, or a retired Republic Intelligence officer, and yet Ms Shadowstar described his purview as being financial. Was he simply a multitalented individual, or was his status another disguise, another set of carefully calibrated words to legitimise activity that might seem unpalatable to some? Some sort of financial investigator? A loan shark? A bondsman? An investor? A stockbroker? Black market trading? Illegal arms? Yet, the parlance had not been the same: Chief, not Lead; and an Officer, not Acquisitions. And then there was the second Captain, the sister, or perhaps cousin at a stretch, introduced via description rather than by title.

They were a storied bunch, that much was certain. Ceto liked that. So many of those he interacted with in corporate circles were so dull and uninspired, or they disguised their untoward desires and persuasions too poorly. These individuals presented a challenge. Intrigue. Mysteries to be unravelled. His warming to them continued, unabated.

His attention returned to the man he presumed to be Sadie K'Vesh's beau, a man whom Ms Shadowstar had felt compelled to subtly, but notably, repair the ego of in some small way amid those introductions. It could have been nothing, or perhaps competitiveness between "counterparts", but Ceto's instincts suspected something else. He studied his body language, noting a surprising lack of attentiveness for a man introduced as a bounty hunter; and a surprising but reluctant amount of attention directed towards Ceto himself. It could have been ire towards the Empire, of course: Ceto was more than familiar with such things, and it was not uncommon among men of Captain Montegue's employment background. It was too simple an answer, though. Too uninspiring a plot point. He studied the man a little further, estimating at his age; a little on the young side perhaps, but not drastically so. He seemed of the right demographic: the sort of man who might have made quite the soldier, but who for whatever reason had chosen a more mercenary path instead. A fan, perhaps; and perhaps a Red fan at that. It would certainly explain a lot, particularly why the news of Ceto and Sadie's past association had provoked a reaction, and why Sadie currently seemed determined to miniaturise herself from view. Quite the fan, then.

"I've had the pleasure of knowing quite a range damned fine Captains myself," Ceto offered, choosing his words carefully but swiftly to convey exactly the right narrative to his words; casual to some, but meaningful to certain others. "Always a pleasure to meet another. I'm glad to see that Sadie has someone she can depend on watching her back, Captain: she seems like someone who thrives in the company of heroes."

[Vittore Montegue]

Vittore's eyes widened, his grip adjusted beneath the table to thread his fingers between Sadie's instead. No one described it as a range of Captains, not unless they had Rangers on the brain: specifically the Imperial Rangers, the sometimes maligned but utterly Vittore-loved spinoff to Republic Rangers, which saw several members of the original cast return to holoscreens several years later, most of them now Captains from assorted branches of the Imperial military, their uniforms conveniently aligning to the colours their Clone Wars armour had once displayed. And a Company of Heroes? What were the odds of someone dropping the name of a classic episode - Vittore's third favourite - in casual conversation? He had no idea, but it was probably so close to zero that is was negligable.

Governor Rübezahl had been the figurehead of those Captains, those heroes, and his words inducted Vittore amongst them. He tried to remain calm, reminding himself that he had rehearsed for this exact moment for the vast majority of his life. Drawing on the soothing presence of Sadie's hand against his, and the memories of his own reflection during those few stolen moments alone in the 'fresher before Cambrio started pounding on the door demanding to be let in so he could begin his comprehensive hair care regime, Vittore allowed himself a single breath of calm, and spoke.

"I'm no hero, sir. I'm just a Captain, trying to do the best I can."

The quoted words had sounded so much better in the confines of that 'fresher, and the man in the half-steamed mirror had seemed so much more confident than Vittore did right now. It was the palest imitation of Rübezahl's own award-worthy delivery; and yet to say them, aloud, to an audience that would comprehend their significance? The mere thought of it compelled Vittore to sit just that littlest bit straighter in his seat.

[Emelie Shadowstar]

Emelie wasn't quite certain what had just transpired between the Governor and Vittore, but there was a change that had been created with the hunter, one that she was entirely thankful for. If nothing else it seemed to have put a halt to whatever nonsense was going on between him and Sadie, and while the hunter sat up all the straighter, the slicer seemed like she could stop wishing she would vanish into the seat. Though, the little family drama was taking her mind off something else. The security advisor, the Moff's cousin - who, apparently, had decided that sitting was the wiser option after all.

There was nothing about the man that was overly remarkable, well aside from being easy on the eyes but Emelie could say the same about both of her guests, to be honest.And yet there was something more to it, wasn't there? Not just a security advisor, that was for certain.

And then it dawned on her where the unease she felt was coming from. How stupid. How simple. And how utterly irrational. It was the red.

It was the same instinctual uncontrollable feeling that occurred when the light would catch her little slicer's hair a certain way and reveal the deep sanguine tones, the same reason Emelie had purged the same color from her own tresses, why she didn't own a single crimson garment.

There were no limitations placed on her cohorts, her own phobias and discomfort hidden away to not bother anyone else, and most days she could handle it. Barely noticed it. It wasn't like you could exactly go your entire life and avoid such a prevalent color. So it settled into a rough dislike most days.

Most days. It wasn't that the sight of the Governor's red clad associate made her skin crawl, but it certainly put a damper on getting to properly know the man. Pity that.

Emelie dragged her attention away from her own thoughts, forced a reset, a return to what they were here for. Plenty to keep her mind off of what the subconscious wanted to toy with her about.

"Well, now that we're all acquainted," she began, pleasantly enough. "Perhaps it's time we get down to business, then?"

[Ceto Rübezahl]

Ceto smiled in satisfaction at Captain Montegue's response, and allowed the expression to remain as Ms Shadowstar steered the conversation back towards its intended course. Her desire to focus on the important matters at hand was certainly appreciated, though Ceto couldn't help but suspect there was some additional motivation lurking behind the woman's performance. Whatever that might be, her reasons were her own, and they were entirely none of his business - for now, at least.

His attention glanced for a brief moment in Aiden's direction.

"You were right," he admitted, to the man whose idea it was that they be here at all. "I do like her."

Aiden Tahmores was not the sort of man who accepted or claimed responsibility for his own good deeds, unless it was absolutely necessary. Fortunately for him, he had made a career of serving in fields where success was objective, and for superiors who had no patience for the modesty that his lack of self esteem filled him with. There were a great many reasons that Ceto Rübezahl felt gratitude towards his Empress; her treatment of Aiden, a man whose loyalty and service had been duly rewarded, was among them. Aiden had served as her personal pilot during her days as Moff of the Doldur Sector, and that trust - as well as an appropriate respect for his talents - had seen him inducted into the Imperial Guards. In a way, it was perfect casting: someone who shied away from recognition, finding himself as part of an elite but with his anonymity intact.

A small part of Ceto was sorry for dragging him away from that, for thrusting him into situations where he had no featureless mask to hide behind; but only a small part. Fitting as the Empress' reward might have been, Ceto himself was far more an advocate of providing credit where credit was due. Here and now was some such instance. Ceto had provided Aiden with a broad mandate, and his cousin had delivered: not with the kind of easy and obvious responses that Ceto could have solicited from any nondescript conformist member of the Imperial hierarchy, but with something tailored, something bespoke. It was one of many reasons that Ceto enjoyed surrounding himself with people that knew him, and why he was secretly grateful to the Empress for having responded to his request for assistance with someone who satisfied that criteria so well. There had been no endless meetings, no back and forth between Ceto and a stranger over what was and wasn't acceptable and palatable to him: Aiden simply knew, and had delivered.

"I'll be as direct as I can, given the circumstances," Ceto offered, his voice settling into the practised register he reserved for speeches and presentations. "A few years ago, the Corporate Sector was conquered, and ceded from the Galactic Empire along with neighbouring sectors. Since then, the Treaty with the Alliance of Free Planets has carved the galaxy in half, and Imperial enterprise has suffered a number of body blows as a result. Kuat Drive Yards, Santhe/Sienar, Cybot Galactica, the Incom Corporation - you will be hard pressed to find a household name that hasn't lost holdings, facilities, and profitability amid all this chaos. I have made no secret of my ongoing desire to cultivate the Greater Javin as a haven for corporations and industry, but with every passing month it becomes more and more clear that business does not simply need a venue, it needs leadership."

A glance was offered to Aiden, who produced a small holoprojector and set it down on the table between them. Nothing on the flickering blue display was especially important or informative: more a matter of visual interest than a visual aid. The first was a simple symbol (http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/Uprising), a hexagon to evoke the style choices of the Empire, five stars for the five worlds defined the Javin's cultural extent, and converging lines that represented intersecting hyperspace routes, and the coming together of sectors, corporations, and interests. It was not a new symbol: indeed, it was a stolen one, designed to trigger a latent memory in the minds of the Greater Javin's residents. Once, the symbol had represented an uprising against the Iron Blockade; now it represented an uprising against Imperial ideals from within, a new path forward that learned from the Imperial misdeeds and mistakes that Anoat, Yarith, and Javin had witnessed first-hand.

"You may have heard that I have submitted documentation to establish the Greater Javin Corporate Authority. I know it sounds like nothing, just a string of words for the sake of giving a name to administration and logistics. I wish for it to be more than that. In the Corporate Sector, the Corporate Sector Authority was responsible for governance, oversight, enforcement, and defense. In the Greater Javin, we have only the Empire in that regard; and while corporate interests crave ever increasing levels of protection and security, an increase in Imperial military is the lastthing the people of Javin or Anoat want. Historically, that has not ended well for them, and I refuse to cater to the needs of corporations at the expense of comfort and security for those who call the Greater Javin home."

Once again, a gesture directed attention towards Aiden.

"That is where Commander Tahmores comes in. Over the last few weeks, we have had meetings with representatives from the Trade Spine League (http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/Trade_Spine_League), a -" He stumbled slightly, on purpose, a subtle acknowledgement of how inaccurate the best-fit terminology was in reality. "- union of spacers and mercenaries. Three days ago, we reached an agreement, and have begun drafting contracts that will see the League employed and endorsed as the civilian enforcement agency for my Corporate Authority. They understand, I hope, that I wish for the Greater Javin to be a haven for all businesses, from the largest corporations to the solitary freighter captain working day-to-day."

He let the notion linger for a moment, studying the reactions not from Ms Shadowstar herself, but from the individuals she had chosen as reinforcements for this meeting. For Captain Montegue, he hoped that talk of unity would inspire. For Captain Asael, he hoped the intentional scope for loopholes would become clear. For Sadie, he hoped the lack of Imperial branding. For Atton Kira, frankly he had no idea.

"The deal is this: the Greater Javin Corporate Authority will finance the Trade Spine League, allowing them to establish communications networks, hire privateers and freelancers, establish outposts and response squadrons, and the like. However, by design, Imperial funding cannot be the sole source of finance. What the League needs - and what I hope for - is investment, from the businesses who will benefit from its protection. Santhe Security, TaggeCo, Ubrikkian, Industrial Automaton: they can provide and sponsor ships, personnel, resources; but for this to work, investment and engagement needs to be at all levels. Every transport and freighter that joins the League is another set of sensors, another relay, another link in a chain of cooperation that will help keep each other safe: and that aid, that contribution, that participation, translates into compensation for the ship, its crew, and its employers."

Ceto leaned forward in his seat, hands lacing together on the table in front of him. His eyes reached out across the distance between them, his words appealing to Emelie directly.

"I can leverage the big corporations into playing ball. What I need is someone local, a name that's familiar, but not too familiar. I need someone to be first through the door, someone who can generate buzz, and cultivate a fear of missing out among smaller businesses. Aiden thinks you are the right person - people - for that, and I agree. No one quite knows what you are: your name means something else in different circles, and that is the kind of conversation I can work with. On the lower levels, Elysium is a welcome and familiar sight. On the upper levels, Elysian has a reputation: you get the job done, and you have the smugglers, and bounty hunters, and whatever else you need in order to pull that off. Any smaller businesses are going to want to follow your lead; any larger ones won't want to seem like little old Elysian beat them to the punch."

He fell silent for a moment, letting his words linger in the air.

"This is not a simple matter, I understand that. I have numbers, projections, proposals, all sorts of data to leave you with after this meeting is over, to process and consider before you come to any sort of binding decision. But this is important; to the Sectors, and to me. I need this, and if there's one thing I've learned in my time on Cloud City, its that Elysian Acquisitions is who you go to when you want someone to get you what you need."