The Auction [Buy The Slave!]

[Gabriel Volturi]

Fed up with the gunslingers laughter coming over the holo Gabriel hit the mute button on his feed. He took pleasure from the sudden silence from the man. It would figure one of the individuals that did not hide his identity very well was also the most obnoxious. But he did have a point. The auction was getting to out of hand. Thirty million credits for one man. Yet that one man could be added to his specimens if he got his hands on him. That specimen could make him ten times that amount. With his mind made up Gabriel imputed the next bid, 30.3 million. No reason to play this inflation game. Let his opponent think he is winning.

Out of the shadows T-1 reappeared. “Master, I am afraid that there is an unauthorized transaction on the account” Gabriel looked up at the droid with a raised eyebrow in questioning. “This account?” He asked indicating the bidding.

When the droid nodded his affirmative Gabriel gave a heavy sigh. It seemed there was no longer any honor among gentlemen. Then again, he had been prepared for this possibility. The account its self sat on a virtual machine, with no real link to his assets. It would have only been in the event that he won that Gabriel would have allowed the transfer to happen. After a brief moment of contemplation Gabriel turned back to the protocol droid. "Allow the transfer from one of the smaller accounts, and put a trace on it. I will deal with the thief after the auction.”

 

[Priscilla Utorna]

The holo projector lit up and Zhana stood with her assistant.

"I didn't know you were into this sort of thing."

Her eyes rolled and turned to face him. "I believe I made myself clear that I am just spectating. Also, I'd like to know who this man is being sold to. He's proving to be a nuisance for myself and some fellow colleagues."

Pausing for deliberate effect, then turning once more to look at him up and down.

"Furthermore, do you really think I'd go for that type? I do have some taste. Apparently he's obsessed with flowers and making... things. Don't understand how he got himself into this position, he's more than capable of defending himself, honestly I believe it to be a trap. Somebody's already managed to steal several million credits, the authenticity of this bidding seems to be highly skewed."

"And I'm assuming you're about to attempt the very same...?"

"I have no reason to, yet. Although, I do need to refit some of my cruisers. Inflate the auction price"

The account that ended up being registered was fake, it did actually have a lot of money in it, a near infinite amount, but obtained from illegal sources of hacking from the infamous Melody AI, and if any further investigation was done it would've been obvious that this was the case. This was the black market after all, nobody really cared about where the money came from.

The assistant reluctantly placed his finger on the auction button and raised the price to 30.3 million credits and one.

 

[Darth Empyrean]

As bids racked up in the virtual market, the world seemed frozen to The Slave. Here he was, subject to yet another auction that offered him little to no humanity. Although this was by far the highest he had ever been valued, he couldn’t help but find a lack of pride in such a thing; more an annoyance for all those who bet thus far. They weren’t his master, not yet at least, and the thought of being forced to listen to any of them in almost any capacity sickened him.

Yet, as he let the thoughts of anger boil deep within his restricted form, a single voice began to throw itself into the metaphysical abyss that was his mind. A soft tone, one ladden heavy with some fleeting sympathy for who he was, if not an outright hunger.

With the words spoken in his mind’s eye, he closed his own and focused on a quiet response;

“I don’t seek anything.”, he responded; a vague harshness to his tone that came through in shades of crimson and black.

[member="Naamah"]

-X-

In the back of the auction, they were already cracking open champagne and preparing a celebration. The price of The Slave had gone far past anything they’d imagined, and couldn’t believe the luck they were having despite all of it. To them, thirty million credits offered such a massive commission that they could live fat and hardy for years to come; if not retire early. Still, as the music was beginning its bassy rumbling, a single holonet call came through in the rear.

A young man moved to answer it with a smile adorning his jubilant expression;

“Hello?”

Underneath the heavy sounds of hedonists, the soft murmur of the transceiver offered a singular message for the young man. His smile dropped, any joy he had been feeling replaced by an anxiety that ran deep into his bones. He smiled, set the transceiver back down, and walked to his superior.

 

[Bartic Myth'rand]

Bartic looked at his screens and frowned, it appeared his bid had not been properly possessed, an annoyance, he repeated them bid he attempted previously, 35 million credits.

He considered his options, he had access to pardons, generally the were for use with his agents should they get caught in Domestic affairs, an offer of one to The Slave's master could become very advantageous if he needed to.

[member="Butch Mahan"] [member="Jim Pehico"] [member="Dead Eye"] [member="Joza Perl"] [member="Marcus Itera"] [member="Gabriel Volturi"] [member="Spencer Varanin"] [member="The Slave"] [member="Naamah"] [member="Captain Romodanovsky"]

 

[Ignatius]

A lost soul among a sea of lives that had found purpose. This slave spoke back with a malice was as though he cared for his previous master. If I didn't know the man any better, then I would have said that he had a sympathy for who previously owned him, and didn't want to be sold. He merely accepted being sold to the highest bidder. Part of me wanted to let it slip away. Slink away and save the over 30 million credits I was willing to spend on him. However, There was just something about his attitude that I loved.

He was unlike other men. The tone he gave me even in his state showed that he wanted life. He wanted to live, but couldn't or chose not to. He didn't know his purpose. I did not pity the being. In fact, I envied him for being defiant even in the face of uncertainty.

"You see nothing, yet your voice and heart longs for something. I have need of you for many reasons. I will purchase you, and once you serve my purpose, You are free to leave."

Tapping onto the datapad, I soaked up the funds I could that I had acquired over 200 years of my life, and put them towards this man.

45 million credits. Eat your heart out imperial.

[member="Bartic Myth'rand"], [member="The Slave"],

 

[GalacticNiv]

Local authorities were outraged. Regardless of whether or not they condoned slavery, the recent attack made on their territory urged the planetary government into taking action against the terrorist who had killed and injured several officials. While the culprit's true identity was not widely known, it did not take long for investigative teams to track down one [member="Jim Pehico"] as he made his escape from the planet. Only a scarce amount of security cameras had been lucky enough to capture the suspect on recording, as he fled down streets in order to escape those that sought him.

Eager to please the auctioneers who could undoubtedly contribute to their society, the government began to coordinate their efforts in hopes of narrowing down the location and trail of the one who had set off explosives and killed security officials and others alike. The first guard who had been knocked out was not of much help, as he could only provide a bare minimum of what he saw before being rendered unconscious. Even so, a full description was not exactly necessary, for authorities were able to narrow down the possible suspects by comparing the times between the first transaction at the auction site, the detonation of the thermal detonators, and any rushed departures from the nearby spaceport.

After the collaborative efforts of the spaceport security, bankers and government were all said and done, all signs pointed to the N-1 starfighter that had appeared to be in quite the rush. All that was left to do was pursue the criminal that had escaped, and luckily for the officials, spaceport records showed that a Mandalorian bounty hunter had recently touched down on the planet's surface. Wanting someone expendable rather than sending their own to do the job, contact on a secure channel was eventually made.

 

[Joza Perl]

“Fourty-five million credits?!” Beta balked, adjusting her wide rimmed glasses as she peered closer at the screen. “For one man? Are these people insane or do they have that sort of money just laying around?”

Her older cousin’s gaze remained fixated on the screen, specifically on the figure of [member="The Slave"]. He was bound, head covered and his body looked as if he’d been severely flogged into submission. No matter how coy and smug he’d been towards her, he was the image of a beaten man. Property. Livestock. A commodity. A life to be bought and sold. There was a distinct pang of empathy in her chest for him, and for a few moments she had to fight down the nausea. Even though she was safe and sound in her home, slavery and all its cruelty helped make her the person she was today. The practice disgusted her the further she became intertwined with its abolition, evidenced by the slight curl of her lip into a snarl against the rim of her mug.

“I doubt it. Bidders like to get into these little wars to scare each other off. They’ll be vetted after the auction and he’ll probably end up being sold to someone else.” She shrugged, not entirely concerned with the price. She could certainly be wrong, but who spent exorbitant amounts on a single man no matter how good his pancakes were?

 

[Bartic Myth'rand]

45 Million. Whomever this party was, they wanted The Slave desperately, that would make breaking the poor being's heart that much more fun, it was time for the secret weapon. Bartic dug into his files, in addition to his raising of the bid to 50 million he slipped in the electronic receipt for a full pardon, should the bid be the winner all crimes committed by the owner or entity owning The Slave would be forgiven of any crimes committed within the Dominion's borders prior to the date of exchange. Generally in addition to professional agents these were issued to members of the criminal underworld that provide or provided a valuable service to the DSB almost no one was allowed to question why they handed out, and for those who could the answer was simple, aiding in the capture of one off the Dominion's most wanted. Bartic let a smile crack his face as he lifted his drink.

[member="Naamah"] [member="The Slave"]

 

[Ignatius]

50 million? Apparently this being was worth so much to him. Still raising it with a free pass in dominion space. I had to ask to myself, why would a pass like this be worth so much? I just rolled my eyes as the other bidder was clearly from dominion space. Only high ranking officials can hand those out.

"That pardon might not be valid. I hope whoever it goes to really holds up to that end of the deal."

With the dominion, you never really knew. Half of them were mercenaries, others were Jedi and Sith who happened to work together. How did that work? I would stop questioning it for now, and instead raise the bid.

No questions asked, to favors for the company in charge of the man. 55 million.

(doing it from phone. I'll tag when I can)

 

[Darth Empyrean]

A single form wandered out onto the grand stage that was this Slave auction. With crowds of holoprojectored people glaring him down, he moved to the center stage where both the charismatic announcer stood, and the long broken Slave kneeled. He tapped on the more proudly statured man’s shoulder, whispering something into his ear with a nervous twitch before quickly bringing himself back behind the onslaught of attention that bore down on him with little regard for his meek nature.

The announcer on the other hand loosened his tie, clearing his throat as he looked back towards the direction the boy ran off too, as if to get confirmation what he said was correct. When whatever signal was seemingly given to him, he turned back to the crowd with microphone in hand; letting it carry his voice farther than any natural means would’ve allowed.

“I apologize, ladies and gentlemen! The owner of this prized character seems to have accepted a buyout!”

His words were proud like always, but there was fleeting weakness in it. He knew the amount of the auctioneer's would’ve made off selling this boy, especially with a standing bid of over 50 million credits. They’d of lived fat and pretty, if it weren’t for the seller pulling this stunt. With another off handed cough, he brought his words back to the forefront of everyone’s attention;

“For those inconvenienced, a full refund will be permitted with extreme haste! The bidder in question wishes to remain anonymous, along with their bid. I wish you all a great evening, and there will be pleasantries in the lobby for those that actually came in person.”

He paused for a second, glancing around the crowd of now grumbling audience members. With fear springing his foot with each step, he quickly turned and hustled his way from the eyes of everyone. A soft song that was on the Galaxy’s Top 10 Hits for the week began to play over the intercoms in his absence, filling whatever void there was with the pleasant sounds of G’york Virak, an up and coming artist nearly everyone had heard of.

The group in the back however, quickly made for the doors. Like Netherworld they’d be caught dead staying in a place they may have just pissed off some pretty potent figures.

│ @Naamah │ [member="Bartic Myth'rand"] │ [member="Joza Perl"] │ [member="Captain Romodanovsky"] │ [member="Gabriel Volturi"] │ [member="Spencer Varanin"] │ [member="Dead Eye"] │ [member="Butch Mahan"] │ [member="Marcus Itera"] │

 

[Bartic Myth'rand]

"A buyout? A KARKING BUYOUT!"

Bartic was pissed he was so close, SO KARKING CLOSE, he stood up and put a fist through one of the many monitors in front of him, he guaranteed if push came to shove he could have doubled whatever the buyer paid.

With his bloodied hand he reached over to an intercomm and spoke into it, "It's time for plan B, deploy Section 10, there's a station in the Chiloon Rift, have them scour any data they can, I NEED to find that backdoor buyer, we just lost our best chance at capturing the priority one target.

[member="The Slave"]

 

[Kuzo]

Meanwhile, at Blackwater Reach, Dosuun.....

Irajah Ven was in the solarium. Though she was seated before the piano, her hands weren't on the keys. Occasionally she'd move her fingers there, hovering as though she would play, before drawing them back into her lap. Silence.

Though it was very late there, she hadn't turned on any of the lights. She sat there, pensive, star light filling the glass clad room.

"My lady?"

Terin, Blackwater's Seneschal spoke from the doorway. The lack of a startle to his sudden voice in the dark told the slender man that his mistress had been expecting him. Waiting.

"News?"

He nodded, and though she wasn't looking at him, sensed that she could feel it.

"A message. From her. The bid was accepted, despite the current-"

Irajah turned on the bench, the relief on her face clear, even in the dark.

"How high had it gone?"

Terin looked uncomfortable.

"It had hit fifty million, before the bid was accepted."

She let out a low whistle. That much? She had been right to contact her. No, not Imperia. Someone else. Someone with the resources to circumvent this entire farce. Yes, he was still a slave- she couldn't fix that, and she wasn't sure he would accept it, even if she tried. Despite the title and the estate, Irajah never could have competed in a straight bid for her friend. But there were other strings that she could pull..... a suggestion, offered to the right person....

Already, Irajah owed a great debt to her. ​Certain agreements had been made as collateral, but to say she owed that woman her life was no exaggeration. Certainly, she got something out of this as well, or she wouldn't have done it. Still though....

In a way, Irajah Ven now owed her for the price of two lives.

She closed her eyes, breathing in deeply.

It was worth it.

 

[Jim Pehico]

Jim laughed hard. And I mean HARD.

"A karking buyout!?" Jim laughed uncontrollably.

He had been watching a holorecording of the auction through a secure channel. Mostly checking to see if his name had come up.

"All those smug slave owning wannabe's had just wasted their times, not only that but from many of the unsuspecting bidders, I've just stolen several thousand credits." ​Jim thought feeling pride in himself.

He hated slave owners, saw it as a gross misuse of credits, why own a man when you can buy other things, like weapons, like a shiny new blaster pistol. Jim liked the thought of that. He was hoping whoever owned the poor man now was at least a fair owner. Jim left the room, where he was watching the auction and headed to the bank, unbeknownst to him of how many enemies he had made at the auction.

[member="Irajah Ven"]
[member="Bartic Myth'rand"]
[member="The Slave"]
[member="Naamah"]
[member="Joza Perl"]
[member="Captain Romodanovsky"]
[member="Gabriel Volturi"]
[member="Tallor"]
[member="Butch Mahan"]
[member="Marcus Itera"]
[member="Dead Eye"]
[member="Spencer Varanin"]