Zhan Helwae wasn't what they were expecting. He was a bit taller and more muscular than most humans, especially most of the business men they had met so far. He had blond hair and a broad smile which could disarm a Mandalorian and put him at ease. He stuck out his big hand to shake their hands as they approached, "Mr. Vandelay... Mr. Alucard... nice to meet you both. Can I call you Raezyr and Trychon?"
"By all means, Mr. Helwae," Trychon said as the three exchanged handshakes.
"Please, call me Zhan. Have a seat."
The three men sat down at the table an immediately a Duros server was at hand to take their order. No serving droids for this level, Raezyr thought to himself. He looked around the room, and it was hard to believe this place was in anyway affiliated with the Club Sky many levels above. The tables here were made of real wood and the chairs upholstered in real leather. The smell of real cigars permeated the air and the lights and music were low and mellow.
The patrons here were all dressed in upscale suits, robes and tunics of the latest styles and finest fabrics. Raezyr looked down at his and his brother's simple mining garb and severely out of place. Helwae apparently noticed. "You gentlemen must not have been in town long. I'll have Miss Vestin set you up with my tailor. He's one of the best on Den Var."
"It would be much appreciated, Zhan. We have only been planet-side for a day or two and have been busy making investments, getting our newly found wealth to work for us as quickly as possible," Trychon said.
"And speaking of investments, we're wondering why you're interested in selling a highly lucrative brewery like Ortan Ales," the older Sith prompted, wanting to get down to business.
Helwae explained his situation. He owned many businesses on Den Var and was a well-known figure in financial circles all over the Matra System, and didn't have a direct hand in many of them, preferring to let the CEO's and presidents of the various companies have direct control. Lately he had been approached by some very influential people about running for political office, and while it wouldn't affect most of his business dealings, the decision to sell Ortan Ales was a purely political image move as his advisers thought it best to distance himself from the alcohol business.
"Why get into the political game?" Raezyr asked, trying to sound interested.
"Right now Den Var and it's surrounding systems are an independent entity forming the Matra Federation, and lately there has been pressure from inside and out to join the Galactic Republic," Helwae explained.
Suddenly both the Sith became very interested. "And what is your stance?" Trychon asked.
"I'm firmly against the move. While there may be some economic gains to be had, the political ramifications would only hinder our Systems development, and although our small military's strength would be bolstered, there really is no need since there's no threat of war. On top of that, there's the Jedi issue," he added with a frown.
"The Jedi issue?" Trychon prodded.
"During the Great War we were one of the few systems to profit. We traded with all sides: The Republic, the Sith, and the Mandalorians. In return, they left us largely alone although all sides pressured us to join them," he explained. "The downside was that we allowed all their agents access. The Jedi were the worst of the lot, often initiating altercations and incidents all over Den Var and other Federation planets, yet they refused to be held accountable for their actions. Somehow they were above the law, and even in the times they seemed to help, they left us to clean up their mess and rarely sticking around to even fill in our local authorities on what was happening, and often leaving them in the dark completely. 'Jedi business' was always their excuse. In reality they caused us more headaches and problems than they ever solved. It took us many years after the War to get the Jedi permissions and authorities revoked. It's not something I, or many others wish to return to.
"Hopefully, I can keep it that way," Helwae concluded.
The political hopeful and the two Sith spent the following hour going over the details of the sale, and Helwae had his legal agents on hand to finalize the sale of Ortan Ales. Trychon and Raezyr even made a considerable donation to his campaign on the grounds their political views were the same.
Afterward, they spent another hour or so engaged in less business like conversation before retreating several floors up to a level which hosted a dance club.
The music was loud and the drinks flowed. Neither Sith remembered how they got back to their suites at the Farrian Arms.
The next morning, Trychon awoke to find himself naked and his bed being shared by not only a blue-skinned Twi'lek girl, but also an Epicanthix female, neither of whom were clothed as well. After kicking them out of his suite, he made a pot of caf and then went to wake his brother in the adjoining suite.
After removing the dark-haired woman who had spent the night there he handed Raezyr a cup of caf and tossed him a pair of pants. "Get dressed brother. We still have to find a residence here or all our investments will become null and void."
Raezyr sat on the edge of his bed and glared at Trychon with blood-shot eyes and making a face due to the "post-drinking morning breath" permeating his mouth. "I just have one question: Where's the bantha?"
"What bantha?"
"The bantha that crapped in my mouth last night."
"By all means, Mr. Helwae," Trychon said as the three exchanged handshakes.
"Please, call me Zhan. Have a seat."
The three men sat down at the table an immediately a Duros server was at hand to take their order. No serving droids for this level, Raezyr thought to himself. He looked around the room, and it was hard to believe this place was in anyway affiliated with the Club Sky many levels above. The tables here were made of real wood and the chairs upholstered in real leather. The smell of real cigars permeated the air and the lights and music were low and mellow.
The patrons here were all dressed in upscale suits, robes and tunics of the latest styles and finest fabrics. Raezyr looked down at his and his brother's simple mining garb and severely out of place. Helwae apparently noticed. "You gentlemen must not have been in town long. I'll have Miss Vestin set you up with my tailor. He's one of the best on Den Var."
"It would be much appreciated, Zhan. We have only been planet-side for a day or two and have been busy making investments, getting our newly found wealth to work for us as quickly as possible," Trychon said.
"And speaking of investments, we're wondering why you're interested in selling a highly lucrative brewery like Ortan Ales," the older Sith prompted, wanting to get down to business.
Helwae explained his situation. He owned many businesses on Den Var and was a well-known figure in financial circles all over the Matra System, and didn't have a direct hand in many of them, preferring to let the CEO's and presidents of the various companies have direct control. Lately he had been approached by some very influential people about running for political office, and while it wouldn't affect most of his business dealings, the decision to sell Ortan Ales was a purely political image move as his advisers thought it best to distance himself from the alcohol business.
"Why get into the political game?" Raezyr asked, trying to sound interested.
"Right now Den Var and it's surrounding systems are an independent entity forming the Matra Federation, and lately there has been pressure from inside and out to join the Galactic Republic," Helwae explained.
Suddenly both the Sith became very interested. "And what is your stance?" Trychon asked.
"I'm firmly against the move. While there may be some economic gains to be had, the political ramifications would only hinder our Systems development, and although our small military's strength would be bolstered, there really is no need since there's no threat of war. On top of that, there's the Jedi issue," he added with a frown.
"The Jedi issue?" Trychon prodded.
"During the Great War we were one of the few systems to profit. We traded with all sides: The Republic, the Sith, and the Mandalorians. In return, they left us largely alone although all sides pressured us to join them," he explained. "The downside was that we allowed all their agents access. The Jedi were the worst of the lot, often initiating altercations and incidents all over Den Var and other Federation planets, yet they refused to be held accountable for their actions. Somehow they were above the law, and even in the times they seemed to help, they left us to clean up their mess and rarely sticking around to even fill in our local authorities on what was happening, and often leaving them in the dark completely. 'Jedi business' was always their excuse. In reality they caused us more headaches and problems than they ever solved. It took us many years after the War to get the Jedi permissions and authorities revoked. It's not something I, or many others wish to return to.
"Hopefully, I can keep it that way," Helwae concluded.
The political hopeful and the two Sith spent the following hour going over the details of the sale, and Helwae had his legal agents on hand to finalize the sale of Ortan Ales. Trychon and Raezyr even made a considerable donation to his campaign on the grounds their political views were the same.
Afterward, they spent another hour or so engaged in less business like conversation before retreating several floors up to a level which hosted a dance club.
The music was loud and the drinks flowed. Neither Sith remembered how they got back to their suites at the Farrian Arms.
The next morning, Trychon awoke to find himself naked and his bed being shared by not only a blue-skinned Twi'lek girl, but also an Epicanthix female, neither of whom were clothed as well. After kicking them out of his suite, he made a pot of caf and then went to wake his brother in the adjoining suite.
After removing the dark-haired woman who had spent the night there he handed Raezyr a cup of caf and tossed him a pair of pants. "Get dressed brother. We still have to find a residence here or all our investments will become null and void."
Raezyr sat on the edge of his bed and glared at Trychon with blood-shot eyes and making a face due to the "post-drinking morning breath" permeating his mouth. "I just have one question: Where's the bantha?"
"What bantha?"
"The bantha that crapped in my mouth last night."
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