The Oasis's Open Orbit

The pearly white surface of the Rancor's Tooth was, for a moment after leaving hyperspace, brightly illuminated by the local sun, its light reflected on the ship's gleaming hull. The yacht's commanding officer requested docking permits and landing clearance in the name of Lady Klaasje Le Wydvile Maracavanya, CEO of Wydvile Limited Company, a trading and transport enterprise with widespread interests all over the Outer and Mid Rim. She had arrived, again, to the space metropolis to seek fruitful bussiness ventures and opportunities.

Several packs of data were forwarded by silent but efficient droids at the helm of the ship, including the yacht's specifications, the owner's preference for docking areas -she had several demands, like not being decked next to cargo ships- and the needs of both crewsmembers and ship in case it was granted access to that space station; including oil baths for the accounting droids, fuel canisters and a reserved cargo space to load and unload merchandise far from prying eyes. Once the data transfer was completed a finger, clad in a soft leathern glove, keyed the communicator.

"I do not, this is, actually, my first visit to Oasis. I wish both to be granted an audience with your CEO and to be authorized to deck and conduct bussiness in your city. I am eager to meet the famous Pietro Bonteri"

She cuts communication, standing behind the large desk that was central in her studio, itself a splendid chamber atop her yacht, all filled up with select well-curated examples of her art collection. Currently, seven stands displayed seven differently themed galleries: ancient mystic relics, idols of power and leadership, early stellar cartography, ancient illuminated manuscripts, tribal artifacts, ephemeral art and carefully chosen abstract paintings and sculptures, most of them made by Pau'loc Ruz Pikassoh. A Theelin handmaiden covered her mistress' shoulders with an elegant furry cloak, held in place by a golden clasp; she also checked Klaasje's general appareance, making sure there was nothing out of place. The baroness nodded and headed for the turbolift, waiting for the ship to be allowed to deck and enter the space city.

The pilot droid chirped in reply, moving automatically following programming. The yacht approached the shuttleport, as instructed. It deployed its massive landing gear, holding the tall ship in place, while the engines turned off and flight systems were deactivated. Through the only access point left several working droids, of Verpine origin, which started to check the perimeter and analyze the general state of the ship. Two large enforcers lined the door as it slided open, revealing a much shorter human woman, exquisitely dressed.

"I hope that man doesn't make me wait much..."

She inspects the port. There were quite a few ships, she tried to recognize some of them.

Maybe that yacht? Huttese hells, that slimey bastard... I should stab him if I have the chance

The woman frowns and avoids looking at a certain craft, she then gestures to someone or something behind her.

"IG, dear, check and report"

The lanky tall frame of an IG series droid looms on the doorstep.

"Initial report. Numerous living and droid forms. Security forces substantial. No animosity detected. No apparent threats. Double check. Danger level: low"

The metallic voice was deep and raspy, the several photoreceptors of the droid had scanned the area two times in quick motion, moving frantically from side to side.

"Thanks. I will have you an oil bath prepared for you"

She pats the droid's chest and it looked, somehow considering how featureless it was, proud. They better provide good service and live up their reputation. Klaasje thought to herself. The crime lady had been in quite a few space stations all over the galaxy and, of course, on board the famous Liberty's Misrule, so she had seen her share of facilities like of its kind. She had sought Oasis looking for bussiness ventures, specially since they said one could find that a plenty on board the space station.

The blunt heavy feet of the IG droid stomp the floor rythmically as it photoreceptors inspect the surroundings, evaluating threat levels. Klaasje arches an eyebrow at the coming of the droid, she liked those kind of gestures. She did accept the glass of wine, very gladly, removing first the glove from her left hand to take it from the tray.

"Humm, humm. It seems whoever runs this place knows how things have to be done..."

She allowed herself a brief sip, to taste the liquid. It was certainly a good vintage, surprisingly good. A fitting welcome gift: she nodded to herself, pleased. Klaasje takes a sit smoothly, crossing her legs, making sure the cloak was in place and it fell with certain grace around her. The droid entered the pod far less fancily, the eyes twirling back and forth.

"Threat level: low. Unit does not consider a menace to go into the pod. Mistress unharmed. Double check. No threats asserted"

He takes a seat, stiff. There isn't clunking noise, he was well-oiled and properly carefully maintained. The photoreceptors dividing its atention between the woman and the servant droid. Klaasje sips again, she gestured for the servant droid to activate the pod.

"Men... they always have dreams. This one is certainly..."

She said, leaving the empty glass on the small table before her.

"... Grandilocuent. No matter how excessive the project they're rarely looked down as hysterical or insane. Wonder what could have happened had I dreamed it?"

"Dream. Unit does not think it can possibly dream. But unit thinks it often dreams of electric sheep. Confusing input. Redundancy. Thought erased, redundancy eliminated. Unit processing stability at 98% and increasing"

Klaasje arched an eyebrow at her bodyguard's soliloquy. Then, the pod openned and revealed the sights.

"Quite impressive"

She muttered behind her teeth. Klaasje walks straight to the ambassador, a hand presented before her for the man to grab. The IG droid scanned the area and asserted the threats, he seemed content and didn't utter a single word.

"You presume right. Tell me, how may I adress you?"

Baroness Wydvile, she thought grudgingly. She smiled warmly.

Klaasje nods answering his request to follow him. IG follows a few steps behing, photoreceptors focused on the spaceport's captain.

"Good to know, officer Picard"

She didn't know why, but his name awakened in her some faint memory about a vintage wine.  

"Very glad to have such a diligent guide"

Said the baroness, softly.

"The fame of your bussiness district is what brought me here, undoubtedly. You see, I have numerous and diversified interests, it was truly appealing to me and my company"

Klaasje looks for a moment at the entertainment district. Perhaps? Yes. She had brougth an excellent Coruscanti dress in black synthsilk, recently tailored. The baroness offers Picard a hand while stepping into the vehicle, IG following suit stiffly, rigid on the joints. She sat with composure, calculating on her head how to behave and what to say to the CEO, who must be a formidable individual. And one should be careful around dreamers.