More Than Rumors

[Progflaw99]

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Denon, Savoy Tower | Merchant District​

Conference Level V-1​

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The local news sources had gotten wind of the business summit, no doubt the reason for the media gaggle at the base of Savoy Tower. Tenzin had seen the huddle of bodies almost two blocks away. His dark beady eyes narrowed as a sigh of irritation escaped his lips. Though a native of Utapau, Tenzin Kull had made a name for himself in the financial industry, ushering the once small Denon Financial Securities Group into an era of stability. So much to the point that it had become the number one financial services provider on the planet - if the claims were to be believed.

The slim landspeeder which carried Tenzin and a single aide slipped by past the small gathering of reporters easily, the darkly tinted windows preventing anyone from recognizing the Pau'an's distinct features. The others had likely already arrived, an urgent matter at one of their branch affiliates had kept the man longer than he'd intended. A quick check of the time revealed that he was a precise minute and twenty seconds behind schedule - a mistake he intended to apologize profusely for. In truth, Tenzin didn't know who was going to show up only that those who did had a desire the same as his - to see a strong corporate presence not held down by artificial controls of a governing body nor pushed around by their lackeys. A good measure of it was greed, no doubt, but the larger concern was the galaxy at large. War was profitable... for a time. After a while however, it began to cut into their bottom line and that was a bad day for everyone. By pooling their resources, their minds, perhaps they could all come out ahead.

Only a few minutes later Tenzin found himself arrived at the allocated floor. By the looks of it, this was more of a meet and greet than an actual meeting - perhaps a cover for the media below? Carefully his deep socketed eyes searched the room for a familiar face, CEO's from several minor companies easily recognized. As his eyes passed over the balcony he saw the face of a particular party he was relieved to see. [member="Braxis Dooku"]. The man had expressed interest over a week ago when the initial sounding board had been distributed among the corporate giants. Tenzin had expressed the same.

Standing a head above almost everyone in the room Tenzin moved slowly, gracefully even as he made his way towards the balcony where he had spotted the head of Baktoid Industries. As he approached he made his presence known.

"Mr. Dooku, how good it is to see you." Tenzin's features drew back, sharp teeth revealed in what passed as a smile. "Quite a view isn't it?" He motioned towards the teeming metropolis below.​

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[member="Braxis Dooku"] | [member="Anarielle Mero"] | [member="Aut-X"]​

 

[Hansen]

Anarielle Giala Mero,
Denon, Savoy Tower, Merchant District

Anarielle's azure spheres studied the sprawling fetid metropolis below with a small amount of disdain, a far cry from her own beautiful Isobe with its' rolling plains and mountains. More pleasant is her company, a man who claimed descent from one who Anari once committed her loyalty to: Count Dooku of Serenno. Anari is still trying to gauge how much the two shared similarity based upon her own memories of who she considered a political and economic inspiration. The movement for self-determination was still something Anari kept close to heart, the idea that each planet's Sovereignty would be absolutely respected in regards to their own domestic affairs without legislative dictation from a centralized power.

Politics and Economics were ever closely intertwined, Intergalactic Governments are encroaching everywhere the tragedy on Commenor was proof that none were safe from the Sith's insidious ambitions. "They've gone too far, this is madness." Anari's head shakes side-to-side referring to the shocking and brutal occupation of Commenor to Count Dooku, gently clutching a glass filled with a clearish looking wine in right hand, dressed in a high-collar polymer tunic with utilitarian trousers, the professional Engineer didn't dress to impress. Heaving out a steady sigh a vaguely familiar voice forces the Sephi Woman's ears to press against her golden crown pivoting in boots slightly over right-shoulder her gaze reveals a tall man of Pau'an origin, raising her glass slightly listening to the man greet the Count.

Extending a hand towards the Pau'an, Anari curtly introduces herself. "Mister Kull, it is a pleasure to finally make your acquaintance." After exchanging pleasantries and a pursed-lip disciplined smile Anari's azure orbs once again study the streets below beside the two men who she humbly considered to be Titans of Politics and Finance respectively, Anari viewed herself as having some minor significance on both accounts upon her Homeworld of Isobe which she aspired to see soar and prosper securely for generations to come. "I admire the architecture of this world although the population density is a concern." Pausing for a moment Anari drinks some of the wine in a short controlled sip before continuing. "Appreciation for the invitation Mister Kull and Lord Dooku, an old analytical associate of mine shall be joining us in short order please accept my apologies on his behalf for the delay his business manner is second to his ability to compose sound strategies." Anari's lips couldn't but smile, imagining their surprise if they weren't already aware of AUT's inorganic nature.

[member="Tenzin Kull"] [member="Braxis Dooku"] [member="Aut-X"]

 

[Graf's Archive Account]

Count Braxis Dooku, CEO of Baktoid Industries​

Equipment: Serenno Royal Garb - Hidden Lightsaber​

Location: Savoy Tower, Level V-1​

Status: Attending​

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The count had arrived at the gathering around half-an-hour ago, having already made his rounds about the room to speak with the executives of formerly-rival corporations. Ties were already made with Hoersch-Kessel Drive and Haor Chall Engineering, both having been military suppliers for the Confederacy and its ancestor long ago, but there was still room for growth in his reliquary of connections. More importantly, though, was the fact that at this moment there were many talented people in this place: brokers, engineers, scientists, warlords, and administrators. All of which were always interested at a chance to reach for another handful of credits, in whatever way their respective field allowed them to.

He firmly held a crystal goblet of some blue liquor from the Aleen system as a woman, [member="Anarielle Mero"], voiced her opinion on the Sith occupation of Commenor. "Indeed, they have." Braxis lamented, "Trade is already beginning to falter in the region; Sith economics, or lack thereof, at work no doubt." He turned as a familiar face approached him and his new acquaintance, a ghost of a smile causing the corner of his lips to curl up in the slightest, his nostrils flaring slightly in amusement. "Count Dooku, my friend. I must say I do quite enjoy Denon." He agreed, "The droids that governed this world several months ago transformed it into a very lucrative venture, especially for a business that specializes in such a thing."

Count Dooku raised his beverage, taking a modest sip, as Miss Mero addressed the Pau'an. The noble's interest was piqued when she mentioned an associate of hers, one that was analytical and strategic in his dealings. He gave a graceful nod, "Very well, better late than never after all." He acquiesced, brown eyes flicking upwards to glance at the entrance, "It would be a pleasure to make his acquaintance."

[member="Tenzin Kull"] | [member="Aut-X"] | [member="Kurjak"] | [member="Max Fel"]​

 

[Generic Fill In Account #1]

The corporate wonders of the galaxy would forever confuse the minds of those who looked upon it with eager eyes and greedy hands. Yet for some, those who could look through the cracks and see the way it worked, the interior workings of the corporate megastructures were as simple as interconnecting jigsaw pieces. Yet fewer understood what to do with this knowledge, some kept it narrow and straight forever pooling credits from means within the window of galactic law, yet there was another type who did not concern themselves with the limitations of credits and the ever changing connections of galactic law.

The Devaronian sat calmly in the speeder was one of those who understood the galaxy, both above and below and even if he wasn’t as well established as others who claimed to keep a solid grasp on what was theirs to take, he knew that it was only a matter of time until he was. All it took was the right people in the right places.

The speeder slowed and had been directed to a more discreet docking bay within the tower that had been away from the media presence at the base of the structure. Not that he cared, his face was one that should be seen, should be questioned and respected, but the meeting itself had requested of the landing bay for the attendees, so who was he to question it. After all what was he but a meagre transportation company that had managed to get the invitation of a lifetime.

The door was opened by the driver of the speeder, a burly yet well dressed alien clad in heavy fur. It stood back, allowing the Devaronian to step out and stretch to his full and imposing height. He was offered a curt nod before the speeder door was closed behind him and his attention was stolen by the droid attendant that had approached him from the building.

“You are expected.” It stated in a polite tone. “Please follow me.”

The place he was led to was fantastic in appearance, it smelt of wealth and influence and the people within gave of exactly the same impression.

“Announcing Master Kurjak.” The droid said loudly to the room as a whole. “Of…New Dawn Transportation Industries.”

It was at that point that Kurjak entered the room properly and instantly wanted rid of the stupid droid. “It is an honour.” He gave a small head bow towards the others. His voice rich and full of professional tone.

[member="Tenzin Kull"] | [member="Aut-X"] | [member="Max Fel"] | [member="Anarielle Mero"] | [member="Braxis Dooku"]

 

[Decimus]

When an invitation to Denon arrived on Aut-X's desk back at his fortress on Agamar, the Super Tactical Droid was likely to merely dismiss it. However, that changed quickly when his intelligence operatives informed him of who would be in attendance. A descendant of Count Dooku himself, who indeed, bore a striking likeness to the General's former Supreme Commander. The closest thing left of the TRUE Confederacy of Independent Systems. When he had found out such information, his decision was swiftly made. He would attend this meeting and bid his greetings to Count Braxis Dooku. His programming demanded it relentlessly.

Aut-X had arrived in orbit of Denon several days ago aboard his massive Vanquisher-class Heavy Battlecruiser, Malevolence, named in part due to it's near, if not identical likeness and scale of the infamous Separatist dreadnought of it's namesake. He had volunteered his own forces to provide security during such an important meeting. A full regiment of BX-series Droid Commandos guarded the building, vigilantly protecting the important VIPs within. A number of them had amassed at the Tower's main landing pad upon the rooftop, stood proudly in parade formation as the General's Sheathipede-class Shuttle gently touched down upon the pad. His archaic, yet incredibly well maintained chassis stepped down the shuttle's boarding ramp, followed closely by his personal bodyguard of four IG-100 Magnaguards, garbed proudly in elegant cloaks. The droid general was swiftly ushered into a nearby elevator, before soon arriving at the meeting room. As the room's automated doors slowly opened, the General and his entourage stepped forth into the room. When his visual receptors came upon Count Braxis Dooku, he politely bowed. "My lord. It is truly an honour to meet the descendant of Count Dooku. I would not exist were it not for your ancestor."

[member="Braxis Dooku"]
[member="Kurjak"]
[member="Anarielle Mero"]
[member="Tenzin Kull"]

 

[Rhan Komo]

Rhan Komo, Accompanied by Rippana Naito
Location: Denon, Savoy Tower | Merchant District | Conference Level V-1
Equipment: Cloak, Robe and his Wit


Life had a strange way to make things simple, food. As wars were waged, or large governments that collapse and chaos spreads like fire in a dry plains, food often remained as the singular motive for many to keep on their fight. As Rhan moved silently through another hallway, he kept that thought in mind, perhaps he had chosen a rather bold move for himself but he had done so because of food. He'd seen so many faces that starved and yearned for food, to alleviate the pain and as such Rhan had promised to himself that things in this galaxy needed to change. And perhaps here I will be able to achieve it and more. After all, credits spoke and Rhan intended to place himself in a prime position to earn the credits and the influence to change things that needed to be changed.

Another pair of feet followed along side Rhan, his partner Rippana continued to go over several data slates filled to the brim with information. When Rhan had spoken to her about the opportunity to enter into the larger world of corporations, Rip had elected to study as much as possible. At first Rhan maintained a mild amusement of her dedication, but it turned into slight annoyance as Rip berated Rhan over several financial mistakes he had made over the years, and worse yet his lack luster attempt to learn and improve. Of course, this slight annoyance turned into deep appreciation as when Rhan had asked for the needed licencees and import taxes. Rip had came to his aid in the most helpful way that allowed them to keep a steady stream of ingredients to one of their restaurants.

Rhan entered the room he had been directed towards, Rip practically pressed against his side as the duo walked in, their eyes glanced from one occupant to the next. It had been there that Rhan thanked his rather stoic nature that kept him calm as he carefully picked himself past several people of great note. Rip had earlier complained of Rhan's lack of drive and needed to grasp for more opportunities and take the initiative. Well, here I am.

[member="Braxis Dooku"] | [member="Kurjak"] | [member="Anarielle Mero"] | [member="Tenzin Kull"] | [member="Aut-X"]

 

[Progflaw99]

Piercing gaze fell upon the sharp eared Anarielle, a humble quarter bow returned in greeting. A moment later the Count himself replied, correcting Tenzin's misspoken title. "I apologize, Count." Though not intended, the banking official's words had a subtle bite to them. Pretentiousness would see them too lofted to smell their own.. byproduct. Even so, it was by providence that these men and women had gathered. An opportunity had presented itself and after weeks of subtle communication and a headache of logistics, they'd all come together - what form it ultimately took was up for discussion. Hell, it was the discussion. Nodding his head in agreement Tenzin folded his hands together in front of him. They would meet the other mysterious guest - and while the party was just starting, Tenzin much preferred to get business taken care of promptly. Time was money.

As the trio was about to step off, a resounding voice rose above the gentle din of the party. *A Master Kurjak. Interesting.* If he was at all interested his features would not have shown it, an impassive front the only outward expression from the Pau'an. It seemed their little party had attracted a number of parties he'd not known about - not terribly uncommon occurrence. Tenzin would be doing his research later, no doubt.

Scene playing out before him, the Pau'an was content to observe. While the new arrival, a being of mechanized metal, preferred to show his strength externally - Tenzin knew that there was strength not only is physicality. Money had power if you knew how to use it. For now he would wait, and when the time was right, they would discuss business. Counter intuitive, yes. Necessary however. Tenzin could almost hear the sound of credits wasting away as the attendees came together.

[member="Braxis Dooku"] | [member="Anarielle Mero"] | [member="Kurjak"] | [member="Aut-X"] | [member="Rhan Komo"]​

 

[RX-692]

The Galaxy was a location full of confusion and uncertainty. Too many things would go wrong, not could. Trillions of people lived in the Galaxy, and with odds like that...one accident or mistake would happen undoubtedly. How that mistake would determine the fate of an individual, a group, or a community however, was a hypothesis that didn't remain to be seen. It was an experiment that held too many variables, too many things that would go wrong without a doubt. That was what happened when you dealed with the confusion and fault of emotions. That was the fault of, all sentient's. They all held reservations and emotional distress of some sort, whether it be about a sick loved one, personal ambitious gain, or the absolute truth of being a living, organic creature. That truth, being one of evolution...the ability or to say, the habit of trying to keep one's own being alive above all other's. Self preservation was what it was properly called of course, though it was a massive flaw nonetheless with a sentient being, and a flaw with just any organic in general. No matter how 'fanatic,' how 'loyal,' they would all save their one lives.

Unlike a machine. A machine saw the worthwhile of their sacrifice, what fruit it would wrought for their death. And they welcomed it gladly with open arms, reminiscent of a religious paintings and bibles of old.

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"Hello, my name is Rex. My name is on the registrar, check under the military backers."

"Last name?"​

"None, I wasn't--born with one."

"You may go you way, Mr.Rex."​

The artificial finger's of Rex's left hand flicked the metal coin into the air. It flew upwards, flipping a few times before settling back down to the pull of gravity. The coin had not even reached the unnaturally smooth skin of the man's palm before his finger's closed around the coin mid-air, a half second before it reached his palm. He didn't even need to look down to see what he was doing, he had done it thousands of times before. And had never failed it, the flipping of the coin in the air, three complete flips of the coin as it flew upwards and then it falling to his hand. All in a practiced and monotonous two seconds.

Rex walked into the room where the rest of the people on the registrar were located, the red photoreceptors which were his eyes shifted from a red to a natural blue instantly. He didn't need to reveal he was of an artificial design now, there was no reason to. And it would only hamper his ability to back this organization with weapons and droids. Their wasn't any reason for him to show others that he was an HRD.

[member="Braxis Dooku"] | [member="[/FONT]Anarielle Mero"] | [member="Kurjak"] | [member="Aut-X"] | [member="Rhan Komo"]

 

[Graf's Archive Account]

Count Braxis Dooku, CEO of Baktoid Industries​

Equipment: Serenno Royal Garb - Hidden Lightsaber​

Location: Savoy Tower, Level V-1​

Status: Attending​

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The count permitted a grin to appear on his features as this mysterious associate made its appearance, accompanied by relics of a time long past, something that it itself was. Who knew that a super tactical droid would still be mucking about the Galaxy so many centuries after its prime, one that even claimed to know his ancestor, a previous Count of House Dooku. "The same can be said about you, my friend." Count Dooku greeted, offering a polite hand gesture to the droid, "It's not every day that one can meet a veteran from the Clone Wars." He took another drink from the crystal goblet, emptying it, before giving it to a server that passed by. He promptly excused himself from his current company as he made his way up to the speaker's podium at one end of the room, brown cape billowing behind him.

While he ascended onto the raised platform, two black-plated super battle droids marched into position on either side of him, the more educated guests able to discern that the metal making up their armour was in fact refined cortosis. The count raised a wrinkled hand, indicating for those present to silence themselves so that he could proceed with the speech he was about to deliver. "Friends, colleagues, rivals. Economic hardships are upon us: the Sith forcibly close the northern Hydian Way; the Mandalorians raid our shipments; the Core impose tariffs on our trade..." Dooku began, a tone of ire evident in his words, "...and the Confederacy, as I'm sure you are all aware, is wasting our credits on clone armies and miscellaneous objects of disvalue."

He straightened himself, glowering down at the gathered crowd. "What I propose is simple, the formation of a trade federation to protect our interests!" He bellowed, "With an army made up of the finest droids we can produce, a fleet with enough ships to stand up to any foreign armada, and a council to guide the federation to pursue our eternal goal: money and power!" His hand curled up into a fist, the man internally seething.

"Do you stand with me, with the other executives? Or do you stand alone?"

[member="Tenzin Kull"] | [member="RX-692"] | [member="Anarielle Mero"] | [member="Rhan Komo"] | [member="Kurjak"] | [member="Aut-X"]​

 

[Hansen]

Anarielle Giala Mero,
Denon, Savoy Tower, Merchant District

Anarielle's conversation with the regal and visionary Count Dooku is interrupted by the arrival of a Devaronian Man whom a droid identifies 'Kurjak' and for a moment the tall Sephi woman studies the Devaronian man with suspicion their species' appearance drew such from many foreign cultures and species. Anari relents after a moment and returns her attention to Aut who stood tall and proud as a testament to the Confederacy's Engineering prowess prompting Anarielle to gesture towards the lofty Super Tactical Droid. "Count Dooku allow me to introduce 'Aut' one of our old Super Tactical Droids, he was kind enough to activate and deploy those assets you no doubt witnessed on your way in as security for the venue for the duration of our summit." Pausing for a moment Anarielle's lips split into a narrow albeit wide toothy smile the droid's hull forcing pleasant and welcome memories upon her consciousness. "The Super Tactical Droid series were the bleeding-edge of droid and artificial intelligence programming and engineering in the Confederacy's day, they possess limited ability to write to their own programming so they can learn making them significantly superior to other models used in the same application of tactical and strategic planning. Typically they were posted as assistants to flag-Level Confederate Officers and quite capable in their own right I might add." Explaining the model's characteristics carefully to Count Dooku, Anari couldn't help but imply with her choice of language an intimate familiarity with the Super Tactical Droid-series that might exceed that of a scholar. It must seem like a preposterous idea that the ostensibly youthful Sephi woman could truly have been familiar with Aut given her appearance although she spoke firmly and made no error in her explanation.

Dutifully following behind the count Anarielle took a moment to gesture for Mr. Kull to join her in step. "I must politely observe Mister Kull that yours is an intimidating countenance, tell me are those facial markings truly Tattoos? If you would indulge my curiosity?" Moving into the conference room Anarielle's blonde-hair covered-head cranes up to listen to the noble Count Dooku reminiscing silently how she had never personally met the man's ancestor yet stood now with a sense of pride and historical loyalty towards this charismatic gentleman whom she had never previously met. Listening to Count Dooku's fiery passion blows fuel onto the embers of idealism within Anari, politely waiting until he concludes the short speech Anarielle's azure spheres dart around to the others and offers her own thoughts "The Trade Federation and Confederacy of Independent Systems that followed it was long a Paragon of Free-Trade, Business Co-operation, Political Self-Determination and Professional Excellent. If this Trade Federation will dedicate it to these same ideals and principles than Samaria Heavy Engineering will pledge our support and membership to the organisation so that this Galaxy and Its' citizens who have long suffered beneath the boots of tyrants, despots and criminal cartels shall know the prosperity that comes with capital security, economic freedom and adequately protected interstellar trade." Raising her nearly empty glass of wine confidently up towards Count Dooku, Anarielle smiles towards that Sorenno Nobleman offering a curteous bow noting that his droid protectors are constructed from an exotic alloy.

"I additionally propose that we should compose and publish a code of conduct and ethics for the Trade Federation so the Galaxy's Citizens can have confidence in the integrity and stability of the Trade Federation as a professional organisation, dedicated to its' mission." No doubt is the Chief Executive Officer of Samaria Heavy Engineering an idealist with equal determination and passion as Count Dooku but also somebody of deep ethical convictions. For Anarielle the Trade Federation wasn't a way to exclusively enrich herself but provide opportunity and peace for the Galaxy's Citizens without demanding that they surrender their political sovereignty unto her, the former Jedi held closely to that Order's code as best she could though she neither considered herself a Jedi nor Righteously Guided, merely a charitable woman with noble intentions trying to make her way in the universe.

[member="Braxis Dooku"] [member="RX-692"] [member="Tenzin Kull"] [member="Rhan Komo"] [member="Aut-X"] [member="Kurjak"]

 

[Generic Fill In Account #1]

Well this was interesting.

Kurjak, while not the smallest of frames within the room had successfully allowed himself to move into the gathering and mingle as best as he could after the droid’s most unwanted and over the top introduction. A serving droid had allowed him the goblet he now held in his red hands, his clawed fingers tapping against the glass as he carefully inspected the deep red liquid. Even though he had spent many years in the darkness of lower crime, he was civilised enough to recognise the depth of a Tapani vintage that probably was now an extinct availability.

He had found himself in a conversation with a portly Rodian shipsmith from some world in the Outer-Rim that hadn’t really interested him that much, in-fact the conversation itself hadn’t exactly gained more then a grunt from the Devaronian. Instead he took his time to scan his environment at the small gathering and each of the participants thus far. There was the Count, be it self-declared or not it seemed that this whole gathering was under his funding, or not if other rumours were to be believed. Talking to him had been what Kurjak was already connecting as the favoured, a blonde human at first glance, were it not for the ears he would have settled at that connection and not left guessing if she was something more. A droid made a curious addition, but again who was Kurjak to judge, he had seen droids leave entire rooms no-more then red mist when commanded, so perhaps having one like that in the room was more a power-play then anything else. Then there was the banker, tall and imposing from some race he was unknowing of. These were the ones he had to be near, the ones who would bring Kurjak’s want for power forward. He had to get close, somehow he had to be in that circle.

The Count began his speech and Kurjak made his move, sliding away from the Rodian who had gone quiet to watch the announcement. He moved with grace and quiet steps to stand nearby the banker, the woman and the droid. A series of applause followed a successful opening of the Count’s message, and even fought back the urge to smile with his sharp pointed teeth as the woman made a passionate agreeance with mention to criminal cartels limiting supply. Indeed, they did limit, which was exactly why he was here. To assure that if anyone was to limit, he’d be the one doing so and in the favour of those within this room, not that they would know it.

As the speeches began to fade into more calls of approval or disapproval Kurjak planted himself nearby his self-targeted group of influencers and stood calmly with his hand’s behind his back.

So this is how freedom would be born?
To the sound of thunderous applause.

[member="Anarielle Mero"] | [member="Braxis Dooku"] | [member="RX-692"] | [member="Tenzin Kull"] | [member="Rhan Komo"] | [member="Aut-X"]

 

[Rhan Komo]

Rhan Komo, Accompanied by Rippana Naito
Location: Denon, Savoy Tower|Merchant District|Conference Level V-1
Equipment: Cloak, Robe and his Wit

​A Federation? Rhan quietly allowed himself a moment to look over to his partner, Rip herself only nodded and gestured towards her data-slate. Rhan peered over and with a single raised eyebrow he wondered just how long such projects could last. So much effort to push forward, and since the fall of the Alliance, it has shown that size alone cannot keep a massive heap moving forever. Rhan silently listened as he glanced around the room, others had entered, and as the Count's speech ended many applauded while others seemed deep in thought.

Not unlike himself or his partner Rip, the duo both agreed that this Federation had the will to move forward and certainly the capital to show the chaotic galaxy a new road to peace. ​Peace and prosperity. Rhan wearily placed the thought back in his mind, this had not been the fist time he had thought those words, but perhaps today they might begin to form into something tangible. Perhaps.

"Security and Happiness, provide those two things and the masses will seek only peace by following you." Rhan commentated, and Rip only gave him a skeptical raised eyebrow.

She tapped her data slate and responded, "-And what of those who seek glory and fame? War is the only thing that can quell such ferocity." Rip looked back up and noted a few more Executives discuss among themselves of their future investments.

Rhan offered her a shrug, truly this galaxy did not pave a single road for success, but the Force be damned if it hadn't allowed so many to trample on those weaker on them to forge a path. "In due time, perhaps, even those who thirst only for War will find themselves seeking something else to satisfy their parched throats," He added as he crossed his arms once more over his chest.

"You do make a fabulous blended earl grey and citrus tea Rhan." Rip hummed as she jotted down a few more notes.

[member="Anarielle Mero"] | [member="Braxis Dooku"] | [member="RX-692"] | [member="Tenzin Kull"] | [member="Aut-X"] | [member="Kurjak"]

 

[RX-692]

A Trade Federation. Oh how history intended to repeat it's self over and over and over again and again. Such was the nature of known history, continued repetition in the longing to seek glory and remembrance in a Galaxy which forgot so many organic souls. First their was the downfall of the Republic, an almost biblical comeuppance as to what happened in the Clone Wars, end of the Clone Wars that is. Then the formation of the Confederacy of Independent Systems. And now? The formation of a new trade federation, a new 'Confederacy' to escape from this 'oppressive' CIS, which represented a new Republic. Thus, the cycle repeated it's self. Rex knew all of these things, as it was all computed and wired into his programming and from more 'personal' experiences from when he had started activation and being 'alive' or functional, within the last two years. After the murder of his master at his hands, that is. The HRD's stark blue photo-receptors dulled to a natural hue, mixing in greens and browns as they swiveled themselves around to look upon the man speaking, a Dooku. Rex could tell that much from his likeness to the dead dark jedi, Count Dooku. The man's long rehearsed and drawn out words seemed to bring the crowd alight with applause.

Though this descendant of Darth Tyrannus, his words didn't faze the cold metal contraption which was the 'brain' of Rex. He had analyzed dozens of speeches given before, from old holos to recent interviews of the leaders of Major Governmental Organizations within the Galaxy. However, Rex did applaud this human's attempt and subsequent success at rousing this crowd to his will and vision. A man like this, could be manipulated for the right purposes. It was something the HRD considered and kept at the forefront of his processor. Lucky for him, nobody could read his mind, force user's would be able to determine he was a droid, of course. Though, other than that, any intentions of his were most unknown. Something that Rex intended to keep true. Rex pulled up to the left of the Devaronian, straying a few feet away while his blue photoreceptor's analyzed the near-human close to him.

[member="Braxis Dooku"] | [member="[/FONT]Anarielle Mero"] | [member="Kurjak"] | [member="Aut-X"] | [member="Rhan Komo"]

 

[Progflaw99]

His looming figure stood ominously behind the Count, eyes critically scanning over the crowd as their de facto leader called them to action. The words were meant to invoke an emotional response and though the data backed Dooku's words Tenzin couldn't help but wonder if a more logical approach could have been beneficial. It didn't matter now. Even before the man stopped speaking he could see the nods of those in attendance. A subtle clap of hands, interjections of approval. The pieces had been put in motion, the backers drawn in by promises - promises he hoped he would see come to fruition. The penalties for failure would be severe, not only in the public eye but financially. Should this endeavor fail, Tenzin Kull would see the decline of his banking monopoly.

There was much work to be done. Already Tenzin was thinking ahead, meetings yet to be scheduled. Ethics. Restrictions. Trade Law. Only a few of the facets that would need to be considered by the Separatist Council. It was almost sure, his own appointment as the Council's Chairman, Dooku of course seizing the title of Viceroy. Tenzin was okay with that, the arrangements already penciled. A pool of affiliates would then fall in line behind the council - deemed The Mogul. A collection of affiliated organizations who lacked the power to implement their own representative on the Council. *Details, details, details.* Soon enough they would be able to put into pen what had been scribbled. For now he would be content with enjoying the evening's festivities.

[member="Braxis Dooku"] | [member="Anarielle Mero"] | [member="Rhan Komo"] | [member="Aut-X"] | [member="Kurjak"] | [member="RX-692"]​