It was a grand idea having a neutrally hosted arms show. It was a great way to scope out the state of the art, as well as see what things could be bought in bulk. There would even probably things offered at greatly cut prices just for the occasion, as means for companies and corporations to promote themselves. Yet Alachei had doubts it was really an arms show; more like an
arms race. She had seen enough of the western hemisphere of the galaxy to know that competitive spirit was in abundance. If it was a tangible thing she could harvest and sell, she'd be unthinkably rich. Ironically there already existed something similar. It's called
war profiteering, and she had no doubts there would be plenty of it going on today.
Alachei landed in advance of the crew that she had assembled to transport and maintain her showcase today. Her Charger landed somewhere moderately far off from the actual event itself, as she didn't really wish to be the center of anyone's attention. She looked on into the skies as a small cargo frigate came in with the parts, and another with the shell. Her idea was actually quite clever; build a single craft from the ground up, in fully working order, but have it stripped down to the barest essentials and no reactor. It couldn't fly away, and it would hardly be any kind of compromise if it somehow fell into the wrong hands. All anyone would truly come to is a fancy, ornately-shaped paperweight. In a way, she was here to show off and perhaps even to cause a little intimidation. In truth, however, she was simply there to see what kinds of things she could get her hands on. One could not build a fleet without guns, armor, troops and technologies. They probably had all of it there.
Her display was set up; A simple platform holding the nearly twenty five meter airframe. It's tripedal landing gear was out and set to the locked position. It's menacing hulk of a canopy -- a solid metal cocoon with dozens of small holoreceptors along its case -- was lifted forward, revealing the inner two-seater cockit and all its advanced displays. On the side of the nose area was plainly painted in runic styled Basic: 500-X1. One of its two massive Haylaxian™ engines was on display on a stand beside it, raw but in hypothetical full functionality. On a nearly-vertically stood rack were six large missile frames, their warheads hollowed for the event. The one at the fore of the whole showcase was not Alachei herself, but in fact, a burly, heavy-set Mnencheian man who wore an ornate flight suit and black nails filed down to almost-round stubs. He had a moustache and thick beard, with a slight scar over his left cheek, and deep eyes that could kill. He was immediately obvious as a very rough-and-tumble, hard going character. He was a pilot by trade, probably the best the Mnenchei had, but today he was also the frontman for the display and their franchise -- all of which consisted of the one showcase, at the moment. He simply stood by the left side of the nose, arms crossed, waiting for any to approach to address their questions and concerns.
An unsuspectingly inoperable experimental heavy starfighter wasn't the only thing they brought with them. On a separate booth, spread across a long transparisteel display case, were tons of scimitars, sabers, falchions, daggers, push knives and curved greatswords; half of which looked to be larger than most of the visitors present at the event! Each one was a finely crafted blade, better than any military standard, each unique from the next in the design of the hilt and exact shape of the blades. Most were made out of titanium or durasteel, though there was an occassional cortosis alloy plated piece or highly decorated transparisteel blade, the very rare few tucked away safely behind lock and key seen through the display cases. These were the only things the monarchy could really put for sale right now. They didn't build guns -- hardly using them or even needing them -- and couldn't offer anything else without slipping away potential facts about their secluded and highly secretive society. If they made any money off of it, at least it would go straight to the treasury and help its economy. Galactic credits were one of those things that usually only translated to Guns or Ships, as they had their own currency and their own abundance of materials on their home world.
Alachei decided it would be best to just wander about, taking in all the different displays and hoped to find a place that spcialized in beam and lightsaber parts. She wanted a dual-phase device to upgrade her saber with, that little something to top off the new crystal she had been working on in the days before. Her attire was a lot different than usual, forgoing a dark purple Force fighter's robe and exotic armored clothing for a silver-damasked spidersilk hikizuri and white silk chest and arm bandages. Her hood was down on her shoulders but her hair was neatly rolled atop her head in a counterclockwise left-to-right roll followed by a long ponytail with beaded tips and a fringe that framed her face and covered half of her left eye. As for the protruding fangs, well... there was little she could do abut that. She carried her saber, as of a few minutes ago dubbed
Forbidden Crown in her language upon deeper consideration, hung from a gold loop on her sash. Instead of a solid metal saber she always carried around as a less giving-away backup weapon, small, serated push dagger blades were sewn into the hem of her robe so that twirls and leaps could potentially slice any threats like teeth on a saw blade.
"Excuse me," she asked @[member="Circe Savan"] softly in a girlish pitch brought about by the thinner, xenon-less atmosphere most of these type-one'ers lived in.
"Would you happen to make any lightsaber parts and components?" Though her voice was not monotone, Alachei had a simply expressionless and aloof look on her face, faced to the horizon barely looking at the woman from her peripheral. Much any things -- happy, neutral things -- in her throughs.
@[member="Juthan'Athar"] @[member="Xalus"]
