Scattered across the table were various pieces of gear he'd accumulated over the years. Breath masks, various communicators and encryption chips, sight enhancement systems, the works. It's easy enough to accumulate such things as a millionaire, and even easier to exert some pull as a billionaire.
Still now wasn't the time to worry about how to spend the credits. Dral lazily leaned to the left and absentmindedly pushed a blinking yellow button. A holodisplay popped up with a series of bar graphs, and a mechanical voice droned on.
"Funds belonging to ID 'Lotar' have been transferred. Two million credits exist in Tolan family accounts. 1.3 billion spread in various investments under 713 assumed identities. Other funds being converted to solid assets. Drop points handled by automated droids, delivered outside of Hapan-controlled space. Cycle 27 complete. Cycle funds again?"
"No, that'll do," muttered Dral as his hand slipped on his new rig. He pulled his hand back, only to see a slight burn mark on his index finger.
A combination of a breath mask, headmounted comlink, and heads-up display, Dral completed the mask. With it, he hoped to be able to handle more hostile environments easily, while maintaining access to his data and sensor packages.
A small voice chirped up. "Daddy, you missed the E6 relay on the left sonioptic panel."
"Thanks, Tempus."
Four years old and already sharp as a tack, thought Dral, calmly aligning the E6 relay. Perhaps the boy would follow in his father's footsteps. Hopefully not too closely.
A few minutes passed as Tempus lazily skimmed over his father's schematics, making up a song as he read off the parts list. The child, already familiar with basic electronics and cybernetic systems, was double checking his father's work while constructing his own droid, a modified MSE design.
"Daddy, why are you making a mask? Is it for a party?"
Dral bit his lip. It wasn't a secret, but why tell the boy? What did he need to know of bounties and Sith and his father's mistakes? Still, better he know the truth now than find it out later.
"Tempus, it's... well... I've made a few mistakes, and there are a lot of people out there who just don't like me. I'm a busy man, though, and I can't do all my work while sitting at home. This is just to help me hide."
"So, it's like hide-and-seek?"
"Well, not quite. See, the people who want to find me also want to hurt me."
"Oh. Ertai plays like that. He punched me in the arm."
"This is a little worse than that, son. I've got to-- wait, Ertai hit you?"
"It was a game, daddy. He hit me, I set a trainer remote loose in his room, it's all just fun..."
Dral chuckled. Maybe the kid's a little too smart for his own good.
"I see. Well, don't play too rough. He's a lot bigger than you. Anyway, Daddy's doing all of this so that he won't be noticed. I also picked up some new clothes. Something different."
Dral picked up the gray duster, something out of the holodramas he used to watch as a kid. It would do nicely to hold the smaller pieces of equipment. Shoving some old equipment casings to the side, he pulled out the new belt pouches he had picked up. They would do for storing grenades and other items. Reaching to a higher shelf with his right hand, he pulled down a series of embossed labels. They simply had embossed dot-codes, similar to those used for bulk cargo containers. He rapidly went through his arsenal, labeling each item. After years of combat and training, time was the most precious resource he hadn't managed to master. This was one more step towards that goal. By labeling everything in this manner, he was able to grab any item he was carrying with him in under 3 seconds. He methodically packed away everything from his various false ID cards to his medkits and weaponry.
"Daddy, you're not going to carry all that around at home, are you?"
"Not at all. This is for missions. My friends aren't exactly the nicest people all the time."
"Oh. Okay. I'm gonna show Mommy my droid."
"Okay. G'nite, little buddy."
Dral grabbed a hydrospanner and went back to work. He had to finish before going to bed. He always did, and tonight wouldn't be any different.