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Just because the sun went down on the cities of Eriadu, that did not mean that its inhabitants slept. On the contrary, its sky-lines and smog-hidden spires often seemed more alive at night than day. It was on one such night that the Reclusiarch of the Shadow Conclave, the masked Duke Shiro Blagden of Serenno, had decided to pay one of the planet's many cantinas a visit.
"Heah ya go, mah good sah. Jedah haw-low-crawn, or summin' like tha'," a burly Noghri grunted over a grimy metal table as he placed a rugged burlap sack on its surface. Across from him, unimpressed, sat Shiro in his full Mantle armour. While he could have just shown up without, this was Conclave business, and he couldn't afford to have anyone suspect his intentions. While scanning some galactic markets, he'd noticed this offer for a "Forcie Relic", whatever that was supposed to mean. Seeing the steep price, however, he'd decided not to leave it up to chance and investigate himself. "Alright, let's take a look," his heavily modulated voice resonated from under his helmet.
Extending a hand over to the sack, he opened it up slightly to see that the Noghri was, in fact, correct. Taking a subtle cursory glance about the cantina, he leaned in, widening the bag's mouth to properly examine it. Fascinating, he thought. For once, Shiro was actually pleased with this scavenger's dull-wittedness; he had potentially stumbled upon some very valuable information. His curiosity getting the better of him, and realizing that this Noghri was about as Force-sensitive as a Bantha, the Reclusiarch extended his will upon the device, opening it up from within the bag. He grinned with triumph beneath his mask. A detailed description on the lost art of Force-forging...magnificent! This holocron is priceless!
Closing the artifact and pulling his hand from the bag, Shiro relaxed back in his chair once more, more than satisfied with the find. The price of the deal, however, was a tad too high for the enigmatic man's taste. He gestured flippantly at the bag. "What is this, some kind of sham?" The Noghri's stupid grin quickly turned to a confused frown. "..Wha'tcha talkin' bout? Tha' thing's real, eh?"
The Reclusiarch continued condescendingly, "Oh yes, it's real. But it's empty. It's practically worthless." Crestfallen, the grey alien snatched the bag and shook it vigorously, trying to crack it open. Of course, it remained sealed shut. "Wot! They tol' me it was worth millions! Some kin'a secret weapon-makin' stuff! Made me pay two month's wages fo' it!" Shiro lolled his head, looking dreadfully bored. "Well, it seems 'they' have obviously ripped you off. It's a dud, barely fit for a museum. It doesn't even function properly anymore."
The Noghri continued to growl and moan in frustration. Pulling open his wallet and sifting through some chips, the Reclusiarch offered with mock pity, "Here, I don't normally do this, but I'll be a good fellow and reimburse you for your trouble. That way you can walk away with nothing lost, and I can just dispose of it before somebody else gets swindled. How's that sound?" Sliding several credits across the table, the grey-skinned fellow took one last woeful shake at the holocron before giving up and accepting the chips.
As the Noghri exited the cantina, Shiro secured the sack to his side. While he normally wasn't as sneaky as that, he'd learned a thing or two from watching his friend Lucius. Interesting, it really does work wonders. I'll have to thank the man later, the Duke though as he waved down a bar-droid.
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