Penthouse of Vilim Ju'oda

The Chagrian valet, Kom Boyaros, welcomed the moff with a slight smile, bowing, as soon as the private turbolift had reached Ju'oda's penthouse. Two silent stormtroopers, black armor with gold markings, lined the entrance of the elevator itself.

"Follow me, sir, the director is waiting you"

Boyaros' sharp predator-like smile seemed threatening, even if he was clearly trying to be pleasant. There were droids there and there, doing cleaning, maintenance or surveillance duties. The penthouse itself was lavish, as befitting the new responsible of all the economical matters in the Empire. Durasteel doors slide open as they walk, until they reach a larger one, golden: once it opens one could see the impresive dinning hall, with wide windows overlooking Coruscant. It had nothing to envy the residences of senators and chancellors of yore. Ju'oda himself stood at the other side of the room, a glass of some liquor in hand, watching the sunset and admiring the views. He was wearing black and the mantle reached the floor in elegant ripples. There was a Death Trooper on sight, in a corner, standing a silent watch.

"Ah, Valen, step forward, join me"

He waves a hand to the valet and the troopers: both leave without a word. A humming, floating droid-servant took the bottle of wine from the moff's hands, gently, while a second one -programmed to serve as a waiter- pours the liquid down in two elaborate glasses of alien design.

"A vintage. I thank you for the gift, moff"

As usual, he uses the trade tongue known to the Chiss and few people around the Outer Rim.

"It is, certainly, not bad a bad place to life. My home is open to you"

He was still standing by the large window. The director looked at an old artifact exposed on a minimalistic pedestal and, then, at four large bronzium statues.

"They say these four were once in Palpatine's office. If it's true or not, I don't mind. My predecessor in Brentaal had inherited them from its predecessors. Used to decorate the palace at Brentaal..."

One of his fingers run through the bronzium-sculpted drapery.

"Whatever the story... I like people to believe they were the old mummy's"

He chuckles and takes a seat on a rounded couch, motioning for the Chiss to sit as well. The director sips.

"It's not usual for me to find like-minded people among our fellow moffs"

"Everything is fluid, Valen"

He said, his smile revealed sharper-than-usual canine.

"It's not the only thing of worth I have or own, be mindful. Not the only thing formerly owned by the old emperor either, however, that isn't on display here"

The director pointed at a very large painting covering a wall.

"You might recognize Mandalorian cubism there. I do appreciate their style, their view of reality was suitably fluid and distorted. Reality, they realized, is not worth paiting like something captured in the holonet, life-like, faithful to the subject to the most menial details, but to be interpreted, transformed"

He owned a sizable art collection, albeit only part was on display. More were on loan to select art institutions, including the museums in Coruscant and Brentaal. Those he had obtained illegally were under lock in Cato Neimoidia and Muunilinst. Recently, his agents on the IEA were inducted to take art as payment or to seize the pieces the moff liked if found in custom posts. A man of privilege should always indulge himself.

"Indeed. I do believe they're more, but our particular covenant could be enough on its enough, moff Valen. We're both not human, aliens, in an assembly filled with a dramatic lack of racial diversity. We, together, money and knowledge... could be fairly more powerful than we already are"

"It's not something to be born with, like many things in life, it's learned. Consider my line of work, coming back to these..."

He gestures towards the artworks displayed, while outside Coruscant's lights were coming alive.

"... is a way to escape the tedium of reviewing the price fluctuations of bacta in the Mid Rim"

The alien sighs.

"Sometimes, I meditate. Ponder what the artist inteded, study the shapes, the color, the composition, the impact of the artworks. Something I inherited from my father, must be the only thing..."

The striations on his face pulsated in vivid red, he caught himself with a low guard, he never spoke about such things as family. And then, the Chiss dropped the pretense on formality, pleased, he smiles, a quite amenable smile, rather charming, for a man like Ju'oda.

"Agreed, Valen"

The reddish hue stays. He subtly changed his posture, placing his weight on the couch's back, arm over it, moving his legs and chest. The focus of his whole body had shifted to Valen, it was subtle for any man but for the Chiss, surely.

"There're very few things we couldn't do together, Valen"

Another reddish pulsation, probably related to a burst of adrenaline. His nervous system was very susceptible to stimuli.

"There're many ways of escapism, I guess this is mine"

He extended the empty decorated glass for the silent hovering droid to fill.

"I'm not my father's son"

Said the director, puting a nail on a metaphorical coffin.

"He only contributed with his genes and seed to create me, nothing else"

He waves a hand, frowning. Ju'oda uncrosses his legs, putting one, flexed, on the couch, shifting his posture even more markedly.

"Those ardent believers of invisible forces, the bravado of the grand admirals... it's all for naught. Information and money combined can turn the wheels the world spins in. Billions of credits, millions of agents and all the dirty secrets. It's almost frightening"

He smiles.

"We would be unstoppable, more dangerous than a rancor and a rathar combined. And far more subtle"

Ju'oda sips slowly and chuckles, revealing his canines. He lays a hand on Valen's shoulder.

"I rarely meet anyone who can be my match and, certainly, Valen, you're one of the few individuals that have sparkled my interest"

His striations pulsated for a moment.

"I've always took great care in hoarding my own story for myself, never shared to others. You could very well say I'm a book to be read"

Ju'oda smiled, showing the sharp canines.

"And... let's say the story is... colorful"

He had a flash of a memory of his father. The director remembered his father's grey uniform, the polished boots... and the tall man pretending to be a dead man. The fake skin, so much like Valen's, yet very different.

"What is life without some intrigue, Valen? But you flatter me... I do admit no-one had piqued my interest either in a long time. It's not usual to find a man of your estature"

Ju'oda turned to a side and clapped. The doors slid and the valet appeared, submissive.

"Boyaros, send word to the chef. I think Moff Valen here would appreciate a taste of... Chandrilan food"

"As you wish, my lord, it shall be ready in the earnest"

He said, bowing his appendages before leaving again.

"It's spicey, but you might love it. The Rikka Rikka Mussalah is a delicacy, as it's the piryanih. My Harch chef, Togrun, used to work for a remote system's king, but the monarch sadly got indebted to me and had to transfer such a valuable servant to my services"

Ju'oda stood, placing a hand on Valen's shoulder.

"Follow me"

A wide door slid open, revealing a dining room. The room was wide open to the Coruscanti night, revealing the city in all its glory. The walls were covered by frescoes.

"Painted by Diogo Rid'vera, a famous painter. I brought him over specifically to paint them, with a hefty fee; all things considered, it was worth it"

Droids were serving the table. But these were different, they were faceless and eyeless golden protocol droids, silent and diligent. They had Ju'oda's sigil patterned on a side of the chestplate.

Ju'oda sits in turn. The tabble was made of what looked like glass, there was a centerpiece made of a carved kyber crystal.

"When it comes to art, there's no price tag to me. I simply must possess it"

He said.

"I have enough credits to make such things as prices menial. And, now, I luckily control all market, so my agents are well-positioned to adquire more works of art, should they be released into the flow of art bussiness"

The director waves a hand.

"However, I don't intend to bore you with such details, dear Valen"

"Money isn't an issue"

He said.

"I could commission a handful Resurgents right now, enough to dominate entire sectors"

Ju'oda gestures with his right hand, dismessively. His striations pulsate.

"However, that's not my way. That wouldn't be subtle, at all. Too overt, too brutish"

The dishes started to arrive, a feast for the eyes and the nostrils, many were spicey and brightly colored. The director gestured to several dishes to Valen to serve himself. The droids were dismissed and there was no hint of the valet on sight.

"I bet our resources combined could achieve much"