First Reply Whartonite [Sith Order Preferred]

[Elane II of Kuat]

Objective: Secure a New Partner for the SIBC
Tags:

Elane leaned back in her chair, the cool hum of her office's lighting the only sound breaking the silence that enveloped her.

The walls of her high-rise office were adorned with intricate holographic displays that flickered intermittently, projecting data streams and financial projections across the space. But none of that mattered at the moment.

What did matter was the datapads strewn across the floor, empty cups left forgotten on the desk, and the bed in the center of the room that made no sense for someone of her stature.

In a galaxy ruled by appearances, Elane had learned long ago that true power was not in the spotless image of a perfect bureaucrat but in the mess behind closed doors that no one dared to do themselves as no self-respecting Sith Lord would ever lower himself to do menial tasks like filling license agreements with the sub-administrator of Bespin Gas Works.

She picked up one of the datapads as an example, the screen flickering as it powered up, revealing a stack of unread reports from various Merchant Guilds, each one more insignificant than the last.

Her fingers hovered over the screen for a moment, before she let out a breath, tossing it aside. It wasn't the trivial matters of trade and finance that would define her, but the massive shifts she was orchestrating from the shadows.

Just then there was a knock at the door.

"Access Granted," she spoke aloud as the door was swiftly unlocked with a click of the button beneath her desk.

​

 

[Serina Calis]

Financial Whartonite
Location: ???.
Objective: Get Credits
Allies: ???
Opposing Force: ???
Tag: Elane II of Kuat

Money makes the world go around.
​

The doors slid open with a soft hiss, and Serina Calis stepped inside with deliberate grace, her every movement calculated yet effortless. The dim glow of the office lighting caught the subtle shimmer of her armor, casting intricate patterns of magenta and crimson reflections onto the polished floor. Her cape billowed slightly with the shift in air pressure as she crossed the threshold, her boots making almost no sound against the sleek durasteel beneath her.

Her gaze swept the room with the keen precision of a tactician assessing the battlefield. It was an organized chaos—datapads scattered across the floor, empty cups forgotten on the desk, and the incongruous presence of a bed, its placement an admission of the long hours spent here, away from the more pristine halls of power.

And then there was Elane II of Kuat .

Serina's piercing blue eyes met the woman's without hesitation, the faintest ghost of a smirk curving her lips as she took in the contrast between the high-ranking bureaucrat's disheveled surroundings and the polished facade she was expected to maintain. A lesser mind might have dismissed the disorder as mere carelessness. Serina recognized it for what it was—proof of a mind too preoccupied with shaping the galaxy's future to bother with the trivialities of perception.

"Administrator," she said smoothly, her voice rich with quiet authority as she took another step forward. "Or do you prefer something less... impersonal?"

She let the question linger for a beat before continuing, allowing the weight of her presence to settle into the space between them. She did not sit. Not yet. Power was not given—it was asserted, taken, shaped to one's will. And in this moment, she was the one dictating the tempo of their interaction.

"I will admit," she continued, tilting her head slightly, the movement deliberate, almost feline, "I find it curious that a woman of your position would find herself buried beneath the bureaucratic drudgery of license agreements and petitions. You and I both know these are not the levers that turn the fate of empires, but rather they slowly shape the galaxy itself."

Her fingers brushed absently against the armored bodice she wore, tracing the elegant, angular design as though it were second nature—a silent reminder that, unlike the countless sycophants who no doubt darkened Elane's doorway, she was something else entirely.

"I prefer to deal in things of consequence, and I suspect you do as well," she continued, her voice taking on the cadence of someone inviting a worthy adversary into a game where only the bold and the cunning thrived.

Finally, she inclined her head ever so slightly, a calculated gesture of recognition rather than deference.

"So tell me," she mused, letting a single brow arch with quiet amusement, "what name does the woman who keeps the Sith-Imperial Banking Clan running prefer to go by?"

 

[Elane II of Kuat]

Objective: Secure a New Partner for the SIBC
Tags: Serina Calis

Elane remained seated as Serina walked in. The gentle sound of the door closing and the quiet footsteps on the floor felt trivial, overshadowed by the ambient noise of the room. She focused intently on the holographic displays, letting the silence stretch, while the figures of the InterGalactic Stock Exchange fluctuated with each transaction, as stocks were sold and purchased.

There was no need to feed into the theatrics of Serina Calis .

"Elane is fine," she stated, her tone devoid of emotion, as her words left no space for pretense. There was no need for lofty titles or accolades; she was already positioned where she belonged, elevated above the power plays of the Sith Empire.

She reclined in her chair, her fingers rhythmically tapping against the desk's edge. "You are mistaken," she stated at last, her voice laced with dismissal, as if Serina's previous remarks were as trivial as the datapads strewn across the floor.

"License agreements and petitions are essential measures to uphold the Emperor's authority over the financial hubs of his empire." Her eyes momentarily turned towards Serina, assessing the faint defiance reflected in her gaze.

The silence lingered once more, filled only by the flickering overhead lights, the soft hum of the air circulators, and the distant crackle of communications, all occupying the void where conversation should have flourished.

Then, she spoke again, "I trust you came here for a reason. Not merely to waste my time." She leaned forward slightly, her gaze sharpening with a chilling intensity that sliced through the atmosphere.

​

 

[Serina Calis]

Financial Whartonite
Location: ???.
Objective: Get Credits
Allies: ???
Opposing Force: ???
Tag: Elane II of Kuat

Money makes the world go around.
​

Serina allowed the silence to hang, absorbing the sharpness of Elane's tone like a blade pressed against silk—felt, acknowledged, but ultimately harmless. The other woman was seated, commanding her space with a quiet severity, but Serina didn't need a chair to project control. She existed in a different register altogether—one of poise layered over power, of practiced charm tempered by meticulous strategy.

"Elane, then," she replied, the name rolling off her tongue like a private indulgence. "Spartan. Efficient. Entirely appropriate for someone who sees the stock market as a throne room."

She stepped further into the room, the faint glow of her armor catching the edge of one of the data streams, sending rippling color across the floor. Her cape whispered behind her as she moved, then settled as she stopped a calculated distance from the desk—close enough to command presence, far enough to respect the geometry of negotiation.

"I did not come to waste your time," she said, her voice calm, each word polished to perfection. "Though I must admit, there's something oddly compelling about watching someone wage war through spreadsheets and licensing ordinances."

There was a flicker of something beneath her gaze—approval? amusement?—it was hard to say, but whatever it was, it wasn't mockery. It was far more dangerous than that: it was interest.

"I'm here on behalf of a certain fleet," Serina continued, folding her gloved hands neatly in front of her. "One that, by all accounts, I could finance myself—at least, if I were content with being merely another warlord playing at conquest."

A pause. Deliberate. Loaded.

"But I'm not. I'm interested in something... enduring. Endorsement. Partnership. A foothold into the financial arteries of this empire." Her blue eyes found Elane's again, unwavering. "A transaction, yes—but not one measured solely in credits."

She let her tone dip slightly then—cool professionalism rippling with the barest trace of something more intimate, like silk brushing over skin.

"You see, Elane, I find value in relationships that extend beyond immediate return. I admire institutions built not on the shifting sands of ambition, but on the bedrock of utility. The Sith-Imperial Banking Clan, for instance… is a structure I find deeply appealing."

Another slight step forward. Just enough.

"I would like to negotiate financing terms for the raising of my fleet—nothing outrageous, I assure you. But I believe it would serve us both better if the foundation of this arrangement was laid... personally. By us."

She tilted her head, golden hair spilling from the edge of her hood like sunlight piercing stormclouds. A faint smile, poised between sincerity and suggestion, touched her lips.

"You may deal in certainties, Elane. But I deal in futures. Shall we begin?"

 

[Elane II of Kuat]

Objective: Secure a New Partner for the SIBC
Tags: Serina Calis

"I deal in financial systems, not promises." She remained seated, unbothered by the calculated distance Serina maintained, her back straight, her posture unyielding. "And I have no interest in indulging in future projections when the present is still so very... malleable." There was a momentary flicker in the displays before her a slight dip in the market trends but her attention never wavered. The market was predictable while Sith Lords and Dark Side fanatics, however, were not.

"You speak of foundations," she continued, her voice taking on a more clinical edge as she turned her focus back to Serina. "Yet I wonder, how many foundations have crumbled beneath the weight of ambition? The Sith-Imperial Banking Clan does not survive on ambition alone. It thrives on consistency, on cold, unyielding precision. It doesn't cater to dreams."

Elane's fingers paused their rhythmic tapping, and she leaned forward just slightly, the subtle shift in her posture signaling a change in tone. The air in the room grew colder, more focused. "You come to me with an offer of partnership, and yet you underestimate the weight of such a transaction," she said, her voice smooth but laced with a subtle edge. Her eyes locked onto Serina's, sharp and unwavering, as her lips curled into a faint a smile that betrayed nothing but calculation.

"Let us then be clear: a partnership is not born of mutual admiration or shared values. It is born of necessity, of influence. You are here because you require something I have to offer, something that is vital to your ambitions. I am here because I can provide what you need not what you want." The words hung in the air, thick with meaning with her gaze intensifying.

"You will negotiate the terms, but it will be my terms that define this arrangement. Is that clear?" She gestured casually while retrieving another datapad from the stack for inspection. The chill of its surface served as a stark reminder that true power within the Sith Empire lay not in the use of lightsabers, but in the ability to influence the destiny of an entire financial system from the comfort of one's home.

​

 

[Serina Calis]

Financial Whartonite
Location: ???.
Objective: Get Credits
Allies: ???
Opposing Force: ???
Tag: Elane II of Kuat

Money makes the world go around.
​

Serina did not flinch beneath Elane's cutting gaze, nor did she recoil from the chill that had crept into the room like frost over glass. If anything, her expression softened, though the softness was not comfort—it was focus. Precision. The look of a predator adjusting to its prey's movements, not out of desperation, but intrigue.

A quiet smile ghosted across her lips.

"Beautifully said."

She let the words linger, a sincere compliment wrapped in a whisper of challenge. Her posture remained perfectly still, hands still folded, as though the very act of restraint was a weapon in itself. The air between them was charged now, and Serina thrived in such spaces—in the breathless pause between proposition and control.

"I do require something," she acknowledged smoothly, her voice low, rich, and unshaken. "Not a loan. Not mere capital. But a foothold—one I could have taken by force, or by favor, or by strings pulled behind closed doors. And yet, I chose this room."

She allowed her gaze to drift, momentarily, to the datapad in Elane's hand. "Because for all your sharpness, for all your disdain of promise and projection, you understand better than most that influence begins with proximity." Her eyes returned to Elane, brighter now, colder. "And proximity begins with invitation."

A beat.

"I respect your terms. Truly. The way one respects a glacier—immovable, ancient, and capable of carving entire valleys into the bedrock. But do not mistake my courtesy for submission, Elane."

She stepped forward at last, silently, until the edge of the desk separated them like a trench drawn on a battlefield. Her gloved fingers reached out—not to touch, but to hover just above one of the nearby datapads. A gesture of presence. Of potential.

"You may define this arrangement with your precision, your necessity. But let us not pretend this is about money. You could grant hundreds of such loans before your mid-afternoon reports. This is about curiosity. About seeing if the young woman draped in armor and ambition is worth investing in. About control—yes. But also… about anticipation."

Serina smiled again, and this time it was unmistakably dangerous.

"So let us proceed on your terms. Cold. Clear. Quantifiable. Because while you build systems of order…" Her fingers traced the air above the datapad, "…I build systems of power."

She straightened, stepping back just enough to let the moment breathe, her voice softening, but never losing its edge.

"I'm ready to begin when you are, Administrator. Let us draft something mutually binding."

She clasped her hands behind her back, her cape folding like wings, and waited. Eyes locked. Still smiling.

 

[Elane II of Kuat]

Objective: Secure a New Partner for the SIBC
Tags: Serina Calis

Elane's fingers tapped against the edge of her desk, the rhythmic sound punctuating the stillness between them. The motion was deliberate, calculated a subtle reminder of the precision she demanded from everyone who entered her office. She had heard enough of Serina's flowery rhetoric, enough of the talk of foundations and ambitions. It was time for substance.

Her gaze remained fixed on Serina, but her mind moved swiftly, dissecting every unspoken cue. The atmosphere in the room shifted; the tension thickened, and Elane felt the quiet intensity that now hung between them. Serina's calculated composure didn't faze her. In fact, it only made her more certain of one thing: this was a woman who played the game with every intention of winning.

Elane's eyes flicked briefly to the datapad, its screen flickering slightly as if responding to the tension, but she didn't take her focus off Serina. She was no longer interested in pleasantries or vague promises. This was business and in Elane's world, business was always about tangible results. Numbers. Assets. Collateral.

She needed something concrete, something that would stand up to the harsh realities of the galaxy's financial system. The cool, calculated silence lingered as she leaned back slightly in her chair, shifting just enough to show that the conversation was about to take a new direction. Her voice was sharp, cutting through the quiet with a clarity that left no room for misinterpretation.

"Let's refocus on the reason for your visit " she murmured, her tone colder than before. "Though..Do note I'm not interested in your vague ambitions or grand designs. I want specifics. I want to know what you have to offer in return. What collateral will back this investment? How can you guarantee the return on such a large-scale operation?"

Elane paused, her fingers still hovering over the datapad but not touching it. She didn't need to manipulate the data yet this was the moment to test Serina, to see if her proposal was anything more than empty words. "Understand this," she continued, her voice hardening, "I only deal in the real world cold, hard numbers. If your projections can't stand up to that, then this conversation ends here." Her eyes locked with Serina's, her gaze focused with a cold intent with very few hints of warmth.

"Prove the viability of your venture. Don't tell me what you plan to do show me how you'll make it work." For a brief moment, her expression softened, but only to emphasize the finality of her words.

 

[Serina Calis]

Financial Whartonite
Location: ???.
Objective: Get Credits
Allies: ???
Opposing Force: ???
Tag: Elane II of Kuat

Money makes the world go around.
​

Serina let the final syllables of Elane's words hang in the air like a guillotine, admiring, in a way, the woman's refusal to be charmed or diverted. This was no simpering functionary to be cajoled with honeyed rhetoric—Elane was steel in silk. Exactly the kind of spine Serina preferred to bend rather than break.

She didn't smile this time. She didn't need to.

With a flick of her wrist, Serina summoned her own datapad from beneath her cloak. It rose with a whisper of displaced air and hovered neatly into her gloved palm. Her thumb pressed the interface, and a projection burst forth in the space between them—a sleek holomap of the Outer Rim, littered with marker nodes, incomplete hyperspace routes, and faint readings of ancient energy signatures. Then, the central node expanded.

PROJECT VESPER
— CLASSIFIED —
Naval Directive: Adaptive-Response Fleet Construction
Designation: Stealth/Expeditionary Archeo-Tactical Unit

"I don't offer dreams, Elane," Serina said, her voice sharpened to a blade's edge, "I offer returns."

The projection shifted, rotating into a cross-section of a warship unlike any currently in circulation—its design minimalist and sharp, with gravitic dispersal vanes and angular stealth plating. Unregistered, unpatented, and impossible to trace through traditional channels. Several hulls were in various stages of development, all marked with tags from third-party black-site facilities and shell corporations.

"Project Vesper is a prototype fleet," she began, pacing slowly around the table now, her voice precise and silken, "designed for rapid-strike operations, deep-space excavation, and high-risk artifact retrieval in zones deemed unstable or interdicted. Its purpose is twofold: extraction of ancient technologies, and disruption of rival logistical lines—especially those relying on predictable trade corridors."

A new window opened—financials. Stark and clear.
Projected net value of recovered artifacts after three years: 5.2 billion credits.
Projected cost of investment: 380 million credits.
Secured private capital (Serina): 260 million.
Requested financing: 120 million.
Projected ROI: 312%.

Serina's voice dropped just slightly, laced now with that familiar undercurrent of quiet, luxurious danger. "Collateral includes three things. First: two vaults of refined kyberite recovered from the Miridan Drift. Second: exclusive data rights to any pre-Galactic Republic technology recovered by the fleet in the next five cycles. And third…"

She leaned in just slightly, her breath a whisper of warm silk across the cold barrier of Elane's command.

"…an untraceable, deniable strike platform that you may call upon once. Anywhere. No questions asked."

The holomap closed with a soft chime.

"This is not a merchant caravan, Administrator. It is a surgical tool. And when it is fully operational, Vesper will be the quiet blade that slips through every fortress door in the galaxy."

She stepped back, her stance returning to neutral, professional calm.

"I have given you hard numbers, secured assets, and strategic value. But let me give you one more thing…"

Her eyes gleamed, just faintly.

"…a glimpse of the future. And the assurance that, when it arrives, you'll be one of the few who helped shape it."

She held the datapad out—offering it, but not relinquishing it just yet.

"Do we have the beginning of an understanding?"

 

[Elane II of Kuat]

Objective: Secure a New Partner for the SIBC
Tags: Serina Calis

Elane remained still, watching the projection flicker before her, its crisp blue light casting cold illumination across the desk. The concept was sound stealth fleet construction, deep-space artifact retrieval, and targeted logistical disruption. The financials were clean, well-packaged, and enticing at a glance. Her fingers tapped against the table once, a metronome of analysis. Then she spoke.

"A projected ROI of 312%," she mused, her tone carrying a weight that made it clear she was unimpressed. "Tell me, Lady Serina, how many investors have you ever met who take projected numbers at face value?" Her hand hovered over her own datapad, fingers gliding across the screen as a secondary projection materialized an overlay of Serina's financials, annotated with SIBC's risk-adjusted assessment. She tilted her head slightly, letting the weight of the information settle.

"Let's dissect this," she continued. "Your projected net value of recovered artifacts: 5.2 billion credits over three years. That assumes a continuous stream of viable, high-value artifacts without disruption, diminishing returns, or external interference. Yet, in an unregulated market, the value of recovered antiquities is volatile. Flooding the market with rare finds depreciates their value. Hoarding them bottlenecks liquidity. Either scenario constrains your timeline. Which is it?" She let the question hang in the air for only a moment before pressing forward.

"Then there's your cost structure. 380 million credits total. You've secured 260 million privately, which means you're shouldering a disproportionate financial burden suggesting a lack of institutional backers willing to hedge against the risk. That tells me two things: first, you either failed to convince them, or second, you preferred to keep this venture off the books. Either answer complicates my due diligence."

She leaned back slightly, letting her words settle before her gaze sharpened before adding an additional comment.

"You dangle an untraceable, deniable strike platform. An asset with no oversight, no formal ties, and no clear operational doctrine. That sounds impressive, but to an investor like me, it sounds like an unquantifiable risk. You assure me it will act when I call, but you have yet to prove who really controls it. Loyalty is an illusion without leverage, and I do not invest in illusions."

A beat of silence. Then, finally, she tapped a command on her datapad, the projection shifting again.

 

[Serina Calis]

Financial Whartonite
Location: ???.
Objective: Get Credits
Allies: ???
Opposing Force: ???
Tag: Elane II of Kuat

Money makes the world go around.
​

Serina did not interrupt. She let Elane speak, her poise unshaken, expression unreadable but attentive—a predator not provoked by a show of teeth, but invigorated by the scent of challenge. When the final projection shifted and the quiet fell again, Serina stepped forward into the space left open like a blade sliding into its sheath.

"Do not mistake my elegance for naïveté, Administrator," she said, her voice smoother now, but cool—refined steel beneath velvet. "I do not expect you to take projected ROI at face value. I expect you to interrogate every decimal. And I welcome it."

She lifted her datapad again, a subtle swipe of her finger reshaping the projection in kind. The screen now split: one side displaying recent valuations from private auctions across a discrete acquisitions division; the other, anonymized logs of recovered technology from expeditions Serina had quietly financed—artifacts that had never reached the open market but had been sold in locked channels for prices well beyond industry estimates. A majority of these artefacts were found on Servacos.

"You asked whether I plan to flood or hoard. I will do neither. I intend to curate. The market is not my weakness—it is my instrument. I control demand by controlling narrative. Every artifact recovered by Vesper will be tied to mystery, exclusivity, and myth. They will not be sold; they will be pursued."

A pause—brief, deliberate.

"And those who pursue always pay more."

She adjusted the display again. The 260 million in private capital sharpened to show its sources: each channel routed through discreet, encrypted financial shells—but subtly highlighted were indicators of credibility: a former Empire of The Lost R&D holding, an anonymous capital injection linked to a Chandrilan naval black fund, and one flagged connection to a dormant account previously tied to the old criminal syndicate that ran Servacos before the Calis family seized the mines.

"I kept this off the books because you were always going to be the first institutional backer. Not the second. Not the fifth. I've reserved that seat for you, Elane. Not because I couldn't find others—but because I knew you would understand that control begins before the market sees blood in the water."

Now, she stepped closer, the glow of the holoprojection casting faint crimson across her armor.

"As for the strike platform—if you wish to reduce it to a risk, feel free. But understand that it is not a question of loyalty. It is a question of command."

Her voice dipped, silken with meaning.

"And I do not share command."

Another beat.

"You want leverage? Then name the variable you require to sleep soundly. Oversight terms. Asset locks. A dataworm to ping a dead switch if I betray our understanding. I am not here to seduce you with fantasy. I'm here to give you first rights to something no other hand will touch."

The datapad dimmed as she lowered it, her gaze locked on Elane with glacial certainty and the quiet satisfaction of someone holding a live wire.

"This is not an illusion. This is power—still in shadow. I'm offering you the light that will rise over it."

A pause. Then, the smirk returned—just a whisper of it.

"And I do believe you're the only woman in the galaxy disciplined enough to harness it without burning."