Post by Vex on Aug 10, 2011 23:32:46 GMT -5
Disappointment.
The strength of that emotion was so powerful it was almost a palpable force in the private office located in the Xan estates. Sitting there, alone, the Xan Patriarch leaned forward, resting his elbows upon the gleaming desktop and letting those clawed fingers come together in a steeple. Resting his mouth against his fingertips, he let the rich, vibrantly violet stare look holographic transmitter that had just finished playing a most unexpected and unpleasant message.
Truth be told, he had not been caught fully by surprise that this message had come. When Rizzen had left and become consort to that Mandalorian woman after his university schooling, the Xan's had written it off as merely a phase. Such things were not unusual for those in the nobility who spent time exploring the universe. It was always understood that they grew out of these phases and came back home sooner, rather than later. Rizzen was his father's son, however, and he was therefore far more willful than most. His obsession hadn't waned with time, however. If anything, over the last two decades, it had increased. His son had spent more and more time away...visiting less and less.
Someone of his status was not simply allowed to wander the galaxy unsupervised, of course. The Patriarch had the best men he could find keeping tabs on his son while he began to train and work with the woman he'd met that fateful day at the cantina. In a certain way, he was proud of his son for taking this path, this challenge. His son rose up, striving for more and coming to excel in something so singularly unique. Eventually, when the woman took a mate and retired from the mercenary business, he'd expected that it wouldn't be long until Rizzen tired of the life as well. He'd, logically, expected that the woman had been the source of his son's infatuation.
That was, unfortunately, not the case. In time, he stopped paying the men he'd hired to watch after his son. They'd long ago lost the ability to keep track of his son. Their services were no longer required and he'd felt that it would be a mistake and insult to his son. Perhaps this was why he received the message now. His son was not foolish or blind and had actively taken steps to foil those watchers. It would have been just as apparent to him when they were no longer there. Perhaps, in some way, he'd elevated the respect he felt for his father and thus allowed this emergency message to be made for just such an occasion.
(to be explained on my next post in "Icarus Falls")
Though it took several hours of going through contacts on the the Republic, he had finally been pointed in the direction of two potential individuals that could put together a team that would be capable of enacting the plan he had in mind.
Disappointment or not... Rizzen was still his son. He was not about to let his only son, his successor, rot away in prison, or worse. With a final call, he contacted a trusted agent, giving him the information and authorizing him to initiate hiring and negotiations.
Baera the Hutt listened as his benefactor contacted him. The parameters of the job at hand were laid out simply:
An extraction of a compromised asset was to be conducted. Exact details, location, schematics and security considerations were to be provided after acceptance of the mission.
A minimum four-person team was to be created for the mission.
Timeline for the mission would be limited.
Minimal harm was to come to the principal. Given his current state, he was likely to be in less-than-ideal condition.
The team would be facing Republic forces. Minimal force and casualties required to complete the mission should be maintained.
Pay negotiable, mission-required equipment funded (within reason).
Baera let his tongue slither out over his lips. A tempting contract....but a dangerous one was well. There would be many that might be interested in it, but it was uncertain if there were many that would be able to do so given the restraints in time and force. He had a few in mind, but it seemed that this particular decision was made for him. Keying up his messanger, he entered the two intended recipients and began his recording:
"Grizzelda Xanxere and Kivesh, my name is Baera the Hutt. I am contacting you on behalf of an interested benefactor. You have been chosen due to your individual skills and reputation. Attached to this message are the general guidelines for the job that you are being solicited for. For specific details and compensation negotiation, meet me at the following space coordinates. I must repeat that you were both chosen due to your individual, necessary skills. I strongly suggest you each bring a reliable member to flesh out the team. Due to the time constraints, my benefactor requires you to contact with confirmation and meet for rendezvous within one and a half standard solar cycles."
Pausing, he took a deep drag of his hookah, letting the vapor fill his lungs for a pleasurable moment before allowing it to flow out from between those rubbery lips. "Money will not be an issue...only time. This offer is limited in duration."
Ending the recording, he attached the mission parameters and rendezvous location, set up the return parameters, and encrypted the message. Setting it up to bounce around proxies on the way to the destinations, he sent it off.
It was time to make preparations to head to the rendezvous location on the edge of Falleen space.
The strength of that emotion was so powerful it was almost a palpable force in the private office located in the Xan estates. Sitting there, alone, the Xan Patriarch leaned forward, resting his elbows upon the gleaming desktop and letting those clawed fingers come together in a steeple. Resting his mouth against his fingertips, he let the rich, vibrantly violet stare look holographic transmitter that had just finished playing a most unexpected and unpleasant message.
Truth be told, he had not been caught fully by surprise that this message had come. When Rizzen had left and become consort to that Mandalorian woman after his university schooling, the Xan's had written it off as merely a phase. Such things were not unusual for those in the nobility who spent time exploring the universe. It was always understood that they grew out of these phases and came back home sooner, rather than later. Rizzen was his father's son, however, and he was therefore far more willful than most. His obsession hadn't waned with time, however. If anything, over the last two decades, it had increased. His son had spent more and more time away...visiting less and less.
Someone of his status was not simply allowed to wander the galaxy unsupervised, of course. The Patriarch had the best men he could find keeping tabs on his son while he began to train and work with the woman he'd met that fateful day at the cantina. In a certain way, he was proud of his son for taking this path, this challenge. His son rose up, striving for more and coming to excel in something so singularly unique. Eventually, when the woman took a mate and retired from the mercenary business, he'd expected that it wouldn't be long until Rizzen tired of the life as well. He'd, logically, expected that the woman had been the source of his son's infatuation.
That was, unfortunately, not the case. In time, he stopped paying the men he'd hired to watch after his son. They'd long ago lost the ability to keep track of his son. Their services were no longer required and he'd felt that it would be a mistake and insult to his son. Perhaps this was why he received the message now. His son was not foolish or blind and had actively taken steps to foil those watchers. It would have been just as apparent to him when they were no longer there. Perhaps, in some way, he'd elevated the respect he felt for his father and thus allowed this emergency message to be made for just such an occasion.
(to be explained on my next post in "Icarus Falls")
Though it took several hours of going through contacts on the the Republic, he had finally been pointed in the direction of two potential individuals that could put together a team that would be capable of enacting the plan he had in mind.
Disappointment or not... Rizzen was still his son. He was not about to let his only son, his successor, rot away in prison, or worse. With a final call, he contacted a trusted agent, giving him the information and authorizing him to initiate hiring and negotiations.
Baera the Hutt listened as his benefactor contacted him. The parameters of the job at hand were laid out simply:
An extraction of a compromised asset was to be conducted. Exact details, location, schematics and security considerations were to be provided after acceptance of the mission.
A minimum four-person team was to be created for the mission.
Timeline for the mission would be limited.
Minimal harm was to come to the principal. Given his current state, he was likely to be in less-than-ideal condition.
The team would be facing Republic forces. Minimal force and casualties required to complete the mission should be maintained.
Pay negotiable, mission-required equipment funded (within reason).
Baera let his tongue slither out over his lips. A tempting contract....but a dangerous one was well. There would be many that might be interested in it, but it was uncertain if there were many that would be able to do so given the restraints in time and force. He had a few in mind, but it seemed that this particular decision was made for him. Keying up his messanger, he entered the two intended recipients and began his recording:
"Grizzelda Xanxere and Kivesh, my name is Baera the Hutt. I am contacting you on behalf of an interested benefactor. You have been chosen due to your individual skills and reputation. Attached to this message are the general guidelines for the job that you are being solicited for. For specific details and compensation negotiation, meet me at the following space coordinates. I must repeat that you were both chosen due to your individual, necessary skills. I strongly suggest you each bring a reliable member to flesh out the team. Due to the time constraints, my benefactor requires you to contact with confirmation and meet for rendezvous within one and a half standard solar cycles."
Pausing, he took a deep drag of his hookah, letting the vapor fill his lungs for a pleasurable moment before allowing it to flow out from between those rubbery lips. "Money will not be an issue...only time. This offer is limited in duration."
Ending the recording, he attached the mission parameters and rendezvous location, set up the return parameters, and encrypted the message. Setting it up to bounce around proxies on the way to the destinations, he sent it off.
It was time to make preparations to head to the rendezvous location on the edge of Falleen space.
