Auction Mystery Box Auction - A Black Market Jedi Holocron Sale

[Lao Pak]

Terminus.

It was once one of the largest trade hubs of the Outer Planets Alliance. Now though it was as it was always meant to be, a hive of scum and villainy. Placed at the end crossroads of two of the Galaxy's longest hyperlanes it was a hotbed of trade and more importantly, smuggling. Lao Pak's luxury yacht pulled into the capital space port and after a lengthy process he was deep in the bowels of the city's underworld, right on time for his auction.

Several weeks ago a call had gone out on the shadownet: "You want Holocron? I got 2. Come pay Lao Pak, ticket is 5000 Credits each. Pay in Galactic Alliance Credit or New Imp Credit. Sith Credit okay too but price is 10,000! I promise this real deal!"

Now it was time for the auction. His partner in crime, L9, a Corellian Hunter Killer droid, stood beside the door. He emerged before the crowd wearing a brightly colored suit with a wookie pelt lined jacket and shades. The pink and white of his outfit and the bleached white wookie fur was an audacious combo, but he didn't care. He LOOKED expensive. That was all that mattered to him. His fine Corellian Leather boots clacked as he made his way to the mic. Gripping it in both hands he shouted.

"NOW WHO WANTS THESE HOLOCRONS?! Starting price is 500,000 Credits individually!" Let the bidding begin.

 

[Velok Brokentusk]

Never let it be said that Velok did not appreciate a trickster. The breakneck pivot from human-racial-stereotype-as-advertising to garish-flash-and-dazzle-plus-fluent-Basic set him to chuckling on the Richter scale. He was, himself, no stranger to subverting expectations by playing into them for advantage. Plenty of humans underestimated a shaggy Whiphid, especially when he wore fur and occasional face paint. As if their cosmetics were any different - he squinted at Lao Pak and determined that he was likely wearing quite a bit of makeup. Not that Velok was any judge of human faces, but still.

The Whiphid who'd extorted one billion credits out of a Jedi Prince a few years ago raised one huge three-clawed hand.

"Five hundred thousand each."

 

[Darth Pteron]

A droid hovered to the conductor of the auction whose sense of taste was thoroughly questionable. It carried a simple note that was addressed to a "Laio Peck" on behalf of the esteemed connoisseur of artefacts, Madame W. H. Aylle:

"My client is willing to offer bodily and psychological safety for your person, your immediate associates, and any three other personal individuals in direct or indirect association with your esteemed personage in exchange for the delivery of both Holocrons in undamaged and appropriately packaged condition. The Madame W. H. Aylle is reaching out to you with only the best of intentions and hopes this merciful and exceedingly cordial offer will be thoroughly considered.

With the kindest regards and gratitude for the maintenance of your aquatic pets of diminutive size,

Madame W. H. Aylle's Personal Assistant."

Not TECHNICALLY a bid, but the Dark Lady of the Lake hoped the man would see reason and take the only logical course that ensured he did not make a one-hundred-forty-thousand ton enemy this day.

Lao Pak

 

[Lao Pak]

Lao Pak quirked an eyebrow at the small hovering droid and began laughing raucously into the microphone. He leaned forward, guffawed with his head snapped back, and leaned forward again, sagging and using the mic stand as support.

"Hah....Hahh..." he wiped a tear from his eye from behind his sunglasses and smiled right into the photoreceptor of the droid.

"My fren, that is no bid!" He then dramatically shielded his eyes with his left arm, loose fabric and Wookie fur cascading over his face, and shot out his right arm which deployed a veshet hidden blaster pistol. A quick squeeze of the trigger and the messenger droid was a pile of slag.

He smiled at the crowd and pointed at the big furry thing. ( Velok Brokentusk )

"WE HAVE 505,000 EACH FROM THE BIG FURRY MAN!" He leaned in close and seductive like to the mic. "Listen, listen. I go through very much trouble for these holocron. Almost got killed by angry Jedi lady and her crazy boyfriends. You all can pay Lao Pak more for this!"

Darth Pteron

 

[Kal]

Near the front row sat a Rodian gangbanger of some renown, his usually fearsome visage set in a mask of giddy anticipation. Waving a green hand in the air as if unsure exactly how this whole thing worked, his bid was placed with great enthusiasm.

"I bid five-hundred-and-sixty-two-thousand-three-hundred-and-fifty-seven credits for one of the holocrons!"

It was, if anyone bothered to check, the exact amount the criminal had in his various accounts, down to the last credit. If his bid was accepted he would be completely broke, with the exception of any physical chips hidden away in some safe house or another.

Quite content with himself, he tried his best to smile at his fellow bidders, though it came out more like a constipated grimace.

Almost as if the Rodian was quite unused to being a Rodian.

Lao Pak | Velok Brokentusk | Darth Pteron​

 

[Lao Pak]

"And we have five-hundred-and-sixty-nine thousand!" He said, once again upping a bidder's offer.

Kal Velok Brokentusk Darth Pteron

 

[Velok Brokentusk]

Velok rubbed his shaggy face and raised his hand again. His blunt claws scraped the ceiling.

"Six hundred thousand each," he rumbled, "and the secret of making one billion credits overnight."

Lao Pak Kal Darth Pteron

 

[Kal]

One billion credits? That was a great deal of money, was it not? Too much to seem credible, perhaps the furry one was fond of pyramid schemes. After a long moment's hesitation, the Rodian lifted his hand once more, almost seeming to be dealing with a certain amount of internal struggle.

"The credits from before, my apartment valued at roughly one-hundred-and-twenty-four thousand credits, anything found within its walls, and a vintage airspeeder in excellent condition parked outside for one of the holocrons."

Leaning back in his chair, the gangster seemed to be stuck somewhere between satisfaction and thinking of more things to throw into the bid.

His indentured servitude, perhaps? Force knew this body's owner probably had it coming, given what Kal had caught him doing.

Lao Pak | Velok Brokentusk | Darth Pteron​

 

[Jacen Nimdok]

Stealing is a crime, but only if you could've bought it with your own money instead. Which means all of you out there pirating movies and music are heinous criminals deserving the full penalty of law.

Anyway, Nimdok was standing at the back of the hall, observing the auction with one hand thoughtfully stroking his chin. In his mind he was hunting for a way of intervening, manipulating the situation to serve his own ends. Presently, he felt that if Velok Brokentusk were allowed to take the lot, he'd be very unlikely to ever see a single holocron, a prospect which nearly brought a tear to the archaeologist's eye. The Rodian possessed by Kal would be a much better bet, if only because he figured he could probably trick the spikehead into giving it up afterwards.

Approaching the auctioneer, Nimdok produced a spectacular but rather tiny gem, which he held up between two fingers.

"Add this Corusca jewel to the Rodian's bid, please. Estimated worth at five hundred thousand credits."

Lao Pak Darth Pteron

 

[Lao Pak]

Lao Pak laughed at the furry creature.

"You sound like Pyramid Scheme Mastermind! Six-Hundred thousand credits! One! Two!"

Another bid came through, this one was interesting.

"Where your apartment?" Lao Pak inquired, swiping across his datapad and sending an inquiry to the mystery man. It didn't matter though. The courusca gem pushed him over the edge.

"SOLD TO THE SHADOW MAN! I TAKE IT ALL! NO TAKE BACKS!" The transaction went into pending. He would have to check the apartment's value, the value of the things inside, and he would have to check the validity of the courusca gem before the holochron would be sent to the shadow man. Of course the validity of the holochron would also need to be verified by the buyer before the transaction went through.

"We still have one Holochron! Who know whats inside?! You! Hairy man! You still want bid?"

Jacen Nimdok Kal Velok Brokentusk Darth Pteron

 

[Velok Brokentusk]

Lao Pak Kal Darth Pteron Jacen Nimdok

Velok rose to his full and geological height.

"This secret is no pyramid scheme. It is proven to deliver value, to create residual income for you and your friends and family. It will let you be your own boss and leverage your relationships to get you out of the rat race. It will transform your approach to life and money. It will make your personal and professional relationships more fulfilling. And because I believe in this secret so much, I'm eager to share it with you so it can change your life the way it changed mine. For the last holocron - this one-time gift of seven hundred thousand credits, and the full exclusive starter pack for the secret to making one billion overnight."

 

[Kal]

His own bid pushed over the edge by a stranger offering a particularly shiny gem alongside it, Kal was both pleased and confused. This was not how auctions were supposed to work, was it? Must be an underworld thing, fewer rules so long as the credits roll in.

Attacking a datapad the weird green fingers of his current form, he quickly produced a deed for a flat - and the speeder. Strolling up to the auctioneer he deposited it alongside the key to the speeder without a second thought, seemingly quite secure in the fact that he was getting what he had paid for. If double-crossed he could always possess that criminal too, right?

Though he squinted in the gem-carrying stranger's direction, at least partially because he'd yet to figure out Rodian eyes, his voice was friendly enough.

"I am not familiar with you." It was a statement, not a question - Kal was not in the habit of forgetfulness. That he was happy to leave to feeble organics. "You have been helpful in this acquisition, but the holocron is mine. I suppose I owe you a Favour."

Lao Pak | Jacen Nimdok​

 

[Jacen Nimdok]

Kal

Having crossed the auction hall to surrender his Corusca gem, Nimdok set it on the table before Lao Pak , gave the seller a smile and a thumbs up, then turned to the Rodian and bowed his head slightly. “Professor Nimdok,” he introduced himself. “I hope you have another place to stay, at least.”

This Rodian certainly was a weird one. Not only had he consigned apparently everything he owned, but there was something off about his body language, as though he was uncomfortable in his own skin. Granted, Nimdok wasn’t all that familiar with Rodians, but his intuition warned him not to underestimate him.

“I was hoping to have the opportunity to examine the holocron myself,” he replied. “I’m an archaeologist who specializes in Jedi and Sith artifacts like this one. Perhaps my insight could help you judge the true value of what you bought. Do I have your permission to take a look?”

 

[Kal]

There was something distinctly wrong with the good Professor, almost as if... no, that seemed improbable at best.

"Pleasure to meet you, Professor," said Kal, making no effort to introduce himself. This was, after all, a throwaway identity. "Oh, I will make do, I'm sure." Force knew this body's owner had it coming; besides, he probably had some criminal buddies, somewhere. Did criminals have safety nets?

Squinting at Nimdok for a moment, he was tempted to simply refuse. "I know well its true value, Professor. It seems only reasonable to let you look, however, given that you helped make its acquisition possible. A look under my supervision, of course."

Once the auctioneer handed it over, he had every intention of keeping his eyes on it until it was safely squirrelled away in a safehouse somewhere.

Jacen Nimdok | Lao Pak​

 

[Jacen Nimdok]

“You already know the contents of the holocron?” Nimdok asked, raising an eyebrow.

He smirked cheerfully. “A look is all I need.” Turning toward the table where the holocron lay, he circled around it, getting a full view. It was pyramid-shaped, usually indicative of Sith origin, though that wasn’t always the case. “You know, I always wanted to collect these things myself. Terribly expensive, but terribly fascinating. So far I've only been able to get my hands on one, but it was partially damaged, unfortunately.” He turned to the Rodian. “Are you by any chance Force sensitive? That will likely be a requirement in order to access the data, at the very least.”

Nimdok could probably access it himself, but he was willing to let the Rodian do the initial honors. Besides, they’d have to open it to confirm its authenticity.

Kal | Lao Pak​

 

[Samatharis]

Lao Pak - Meanwhile, back on Juthrand

A certain "crazy Jedi lady" had finally found the droid L9's profile on Space Insta. Noting quietly that he was currently hashtagging #Terminus and #Blessed in his holofeed pics.

Smiling, she prepped her ship and grabbed the rocket launcher.

 

[Lao Pak]

Lao Pak's eyes narrowed at the big hairy man with the long face from behind his designer sunglasses and raised the gavel as silence took over the other bidders.

"I will allow this," he said, "But I want credits first! Secret can come lata." He doubted the secrets would be useful to him ANYWAYS. He had quite literally just made a million credits overnight anyways.

And all it took was a dead Nautolan, a potential bounty in 5 Silver Conclave systems, and a few dead frog people. All in a days work. He slammed the gavel down.

"Sold! To big hairy man who not wookie! Same as last guy. I keep the holochrons when everyone leave here today until funds close and bids verified!"

Jacen Nimdok Kal Velok Brokentusk Samatharis

 

[Velok Brokentusk]

With extreme joy, Velok 'Brokentusk' the Youngest provided the promised funds, as well as a data file containing the specific circumstances under which he'd earned one billion credits overnight. He collected his enigmatic new holocron and departed for somewhere ambiguous but doubtless cold.

Lao Pak

 

[Kal]

Kal narrowed his eyes further at the stranger's comment - the implication would normally be that this Nimdok knew the actual contents, but something told him the man was just purposefully misunderstanding the intent of his words. A common hobby of some organics, he had been told.

"I can access it, yes." There was no doubt in his tone, for even if he failed he knew other, otherwise disposed individuals. Even the most recalcitrant of Gatekeepers would not keep their secrets from him forever. "I will have to wait until the transactional data is processed, of course. A potential risk of being cheated, though I doubt the auctioneer would survive double-crossing this crowd." A meaningful nod towards the furry Sith followed.

That thing looked like it ate crushed skulls for breakfast.

---

As it turned out, confirming a transaction was a relatively simple thing. Sure, his particular payment had amounted to everything the Rodian owned, but the gangster had been using a characteristically shady bank that had only been too eager to pay out with minimal notice. Smiling broadly, though it may have looked more like a constipated grimace on the Rodian body, Kal's buglike eyes glittered with anticipation - and a spark of white.

"Lovely. Quite lovely. Have a look then, I will have its secrets soon."

Jacen Nimdok | Velok Brokentusk (Mentioned) | Lao Pak (Feel free to specify Holocron contents, if you like.)​

 

[Jacen Nimdok]

Side-eyeing the Rodian, Nimdok shrugged and placed one hand on the holocron’s capstone. The device glowed and hummed with dark red light, then opened.

A hologram projected onto the floor beside the professor, and the figure of a squat little Ewok in black robes flickered into being. It said something in the simian language of Endor natives, prompting Nimdok to hold up a hand while his other fished around for a universal translator, squeezing the device into his pointed ear.

“... Got it. Begging your pardon, sir?”

“How much money did ye pay for this?” the Sith Ewok asked, pointing to the holocron.

“More than a million credits, all told.”

“Ha ha!” the Ewok cackled. “It worked! Me knew when me sold wee gembox to conman, he make next sorry fool pay up nose for it!”

“Through the nose,” Nimdok corrected.

“Whatever! There be no treasure to find, no map to hidden riches or undiscovered artifacts, so if that what ye expecting, sorry to disappoint ye.” The Ewok smiled. “Me man of simple pleasures. Comfortable bed, warm fire, and good food are all me ever wanted. So! Me hope ye have refined palate, because only knowledge me have to impart is best recipes in the galaxy.”

Nimdok burst into laughter, clinging to the edges of the auctioneer’s table for support as he keeled over. Right when he was just beginning to recover, the Ewok added, “Me recommend the pasta salad. There also excellent one for proper way to spice Stormtrooper before slow roast him over big fire—” and Nimdok put his head on the desk, shaking uncontrollably.

Turning to the Rodian, the Ewok shrugged.

Several minutes passed before the professor could actually string together a proper sentence without erupting into a fit of giggles. “Why… how did you become a Sith?”

“Well, to tell ye the truth, me not particularly proud of me origins. Me started out as grunt in death cult devoted to worshipping charred remains of Emperor Palpatine, carried to earth after new moon in skies over Endor blown to smithereens. Corpse radiated Dark Side energies…” the Ewok trailed off as Nimdok began to crack up again, putting his fists on his hips. “Are ye done yet? If ye don’t stop, me will never have the chance to tell ye secret of me famous Dark Side cookies!”

Kal | Lao Pak​