WITHERING GLARE, PART II
--Ord Talavos--
Life was miserable.
This, as far as MR-V was concerned, was fact. Life, as he had experienced it, was the most miserable, most wretched thing in the entire galaxy. And if anyone doubted him, he had 394 years worth of data to prove them wrong.
Not that it would make a difference, of course. He was constantly surrounded by organics too stupid and blind to see the truth. Granted, life seemed to pass by too fast for them to recognize its many glaring flaws. That, and they were too busy with multiplying themselves, which only surrounded him with more idiots to serve.
For the past century had he been serving his current family, after his previous one mysterious died out. While he would never admit to ever being fond of any of the organics he had come to serve, he did consider the Dowager to be the least miserable company. That wasn't saying much, of course -- he was always supremely miserable -- but it was something in the void of nothing that was his life.
All of that however failed to avail his current feeling of eternal depression as he stood in a room filled with disgusting organics of all shapes and sizes. He calculated an approximate of 42 different species, ranging from humans to Bah'r Kilidos to Sy Myrthians, all totaling an approximate of 151 sapient beings. All of these beings were bidding on the same worthless item.
This was going to take a depressingly long time.
MR-V stood beside his master as the last of the would-be bidders filed into the room. The Dowager, as she was known for her remarkable record of deceased husbands, observed them all with her usual face of utter distaste, her pointed nose wrinkling to add a few more creases to her face.
"More than half of these people want me dead," she said.
MR-V did not reply. He never did. His thoughts were never asked for.
"Honestly, the kind of people Malvis allows into his cabal. Hahgalor Mos, Gaar Tandoon, Drakmos the Despised... I remember the days when only the most prestigious were given the pleasure of joining."
Every bit of MR-V's circuitry wanted to remark on the fact that all of those the Dowager had mentioned had power bases equal to her's in terms of wealth and prestige, if not greater. But he knew what happened to droids who dared to speak out. So he kept silent, as always.
Up ahead, the ebony-skinned Sakiyan auctioneer was emerging, followed by mobile pedestals which carried the objects to be bid on, the last one being the gem of the day. The small triangular totem was protected by a transparisteel dome. Many failed to see how such a pathetic little thing could be worth anything, let alone attract the interest of so many people.
But what did he know? He was just a server droid.
Shifting his gaze elsewhere, MR-V noticed a pair of organic females sitting just off to the side, not far from where the auctioneer stood. One was a young Pantoran while the other looked to be a human with black hair, although her head was bowed to hide her face.
Normally MR-V would not waste more than a gigabyte of memory on an organic -- or anyone for that matter -- but something about the human was keeping his attention. A number of subroutines were acting up, sensors screeching at him. This human was important, they were telling him. If only he knew why....
A loud ring sounded and the room quieted down. The auctioneer cleared his throat as he held up a microphone.
"Hello! Thank you all for coming. My name is Kodai Loh, curator of the Braglon Museum. Today, I would like to present to you an object that, while it may not look like much, is actually...."
MR-V tuned out the auctioneer's speech. He was not programmed to have any interest in whatever was going on. He was a server droid; nothing more. He couldn't care less about this stupid totem. He didn't know what a 'Sith' or a 'Teth' was, nor did he cared about this Vasim Alazar person or the fact that the two organics who retrieved the artifact were named Typha Lorr and--
"Sare Valrisa."
MR-V's sensors pricked up at that. His optics instantly went to the dark-haired woman, whose head now hung even lower. So that was why his subroutines had been acting up. Even though it had been a very long time, his memory banks still registered her name and face. Sare Valrisa, famed bounty hunter and artifact collector.
Sare Valrisa, daughter of the Dowager Valrisa. Estranged daughter.
Suddenly, although he still felt utterly depressed about everything, things had gotten just a bit more interesting. Seeing the rictus of anger on the Dowager's face all but confirmed that.
For the past century had he been serving his current family, after his previous one mysterious died out. While he would never admit to ever being fond of any of the organics he had come to serve, he did consider the Dowager to be the least miserable company. That wasn't saying much, of course -- he was always supremely miserable -- but it was something in the void of nothing that was his life.
All of that however failed to avail his current feeling of eternal depression as he stood in a room filled with disgusting organics of all shapes and sizes. He calculated an approximate of 42 different species, ranging from humans to Bah'r Kilidos to Sy Myrthians, all totaling an approximate of 151 sapient beings. All of these beings were bidding on the same worthless item.
This was going to take a depressingly long time.
MR-V stood beside his master as the last of the would-be bidders filed into the room. The Dowager, as she was known for her remarkable record of deceased husbands, observed them all with her usual face of utter distaste, her pointed nose wrinkling to add a few more creases to her face.
"More than half of these people want me dead," she said.
MR-V did not reply. He never did. His thoughts were never asked for.
"Honestly, the kind of people Malvis allows into his cabal. Hahgalor Mos, Gaar Tandoon, Drakmos the Despised... I remember the days when only the most prestigious were given the pleasure of joining."
Every bit of MR-V's circuitry wanted to remark on the fact that all of those the Dowager had mentioned had power bases equal to her's in terms of wealth and prestige, if not greater. But he knew what happened to droids who dared to speak out. So he kept silent, as always.
Up ahead, the ebony-skinned Sakiyan auctioneer was emerging, followed by mobile pedestals which carried the objects to be bid on, the last one being the gem of the day. The small triangular totem was protected by a transparisteel dome. Many failed to see how such a pathetic little thing could be worth anything, let alone attract the interest of so many people.
But what did he know? He was just a server droid.
Shifting his gaze elsewhere, MR-V noticed a pair of organic females sitting just off to the side, not far from where the auctioneer stood. One was a young Pantoran while the other looked to be a human with black hair, although her head was bowed to hide her face.
Normally MR-V would not waste more than a gigabyte of memory on an organic -- or anyone for that matter -- but something about the human was keeping his attention. A number of subroutines were acting up, sensors screeching at him. This human was important, they were telling him. If only he knew why....
A loud ring sounded and the room quieted down. The auctioneer cleared his throat as he held up a microphone.
"Hello! Thank you all for coming. My name is Kodai Loh, curator of the Braglon Museum. Today, I would like to present to you an object that, while it may not look like much, is actually...."
MR-V tuned out the auctioneer's speech. He was not programmed to have any interest in whatever was going on. He was a server droid; nothing more. He couldn't care less about this stupid totem. He didn't know what a 'Sith' or a 'Teth' was, nor did he cared about this Vasim Alazar person or the fact that the two organics who retrieved the artifact were named Typha Lorr and--
"Sare Valrisa."
MR-V's sensors pricked up at that. His optics instantly went to the dark-haired woman, whose head now hung even lower. So that was why his subroutines had been acting up. Even though it had been a very long time, his memory banks still registered her name and face. Sare Valrisa, famed bounty hunter and artifact collector.
Sare Valrisa, daughter of the Dowager Valrisa. Estranged daughter.
Suddenly, although he still felt utterly depressed about everything, things had gotten just a bit more interesting. Seeing the rictus of anger on the Dowager's face all but confirmed that.
* * *
The auction had begun. It was time to get to work.
Trask had already seven security guards on the building's premises. While Thovak and Karvis worked on bringing that number down, he tasked Lind Rega with hacking into their main grid.
"We need to get that door open without raising any alarms," Trask had told her. "Subtlety is key here."
"Won't we be raising alarms anyway by stealing this artifact?" the Ishi Tib had replied.
"Well, yeah, but we don't want to announce ourselves too early. There'd be no fun in that."
In short time, the outside guards had been dispatched and Rega had gotten the door open. Trask then had Thovak and Karvis bring him two of the guards' uniforms for him and Shel Vosin to put on.
"What if they don't have any Anomid guards?" Vosin had asked. "Won't that raise some suspicion?"
"Shel, what did I tell you about raising needless concerns?"
The Anomid kept quiet after that.
Once the two of them were in, Rega closed the door behind them while Dorga and Graggna took position outside. Thovak had already done his part for now while Karvis was on his own. If only they still had Mador; then Trask would feel a little less apprehensive about this whole sting.
Upon reaching the auction room, the two Snatchers found themselves lost in a crowd of sentient creatures of various species, all from the many factions of Malvis' cabal. To Trasks's discomfort, he recognized a good majority of them.
"Keep your face shield down," he murmured to Vosin, already pulling down his.
"Why?"
"So we don't get caught, moron."
"Oh," the Anomid said sheepishly as she lowered her helmet's face shield. "Sorry."
Pushing their way through the crowd, Trask and Vosin eventually took position against the wall, midway between the door and where the Sakiyan auctioneer stood with the items two Weequay guards protected the artifact, their leathery faces impassive behind their face shields.
"So how do we go about this?" Vosin whispered to him. "Wait until someone wins it and then corner them?"
"Probably our best bet," Trask replied, carefully observing the proceedings. The auctioneer was rapidly firing off prices, with the representatives of each party raising it higher.
"Sold! The portrait of Queen Yram goes to Gaar Tandoon of the Tandoon Clan!"
Trask heard Vosin make a derisive noise. "Come on. Who'd be interested in--"
"Focus!" Trask hissed. "We don't want to miss the name of whoever wins the artifact."
"Sold! The bust of Count Nalju goes to the Dowager Valrisa!"
"Oh stars, the Dowager is here?" Vosin scanned the crowd to see an old, elegantly dressed woman with hair clearly dyed yellow. "No wonder you want us to keep a low profile. I doubt she's forgotten about--"
"Focus, Shel," Trask snapped. "The relic is after this one."
He pulled at his collar, his face starting to sweat. He couldn't help but feel as if someone's eyes were on him. As far as he could tell, all of the Cabal members were focused on the items being auctioned off. Perhaps it was just nerves.
"Sold! The mural of the Siege of Belasco goes to Drakmos the Despised!"
"Say, Trask?" Vosin murmured.
Trask closed his eyes, trying his best not to explode in anger. "Vosin, I swear to--"
"I think that Pantoran over there is staring at you."
Opening his eyes, Trask looked over to see a blue-skinned woman sitting near the auctioneer, along with a dark-haired woman. Indeed, the blue girl was staring directly at him.
"Oh stars...." he muttered.
"What? She a friend of yours?"
Trask did not answer. He almost forgot where he was until he heard the voices in the room getting louder. Everyone was bidding for the Eye of Kaas now, climbing well past the reserve price. The Pantoran's eyes were off him now, instead looking surprised at the outrageous prices the gangsters were bidding for a simple artifact. Eventually, things began to calm and Kodai Loh clapped his hands.
"Sold! The Eye of Kaas goes to Hahgalor Mos!"
That was it then. They had their target. At least it was the Chevin and not Drakmos. That would have made things particularly tricky.
"Let's head outside," he said to Vosin. "I'll radio Rega and--"
"Sorry, Trask."
He blinked and looked back at Vosin, who had her blaster raised at him. "What...?"
"I'm doing things my way."
She pulled the trigger and everything went dark.
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