"We too are connected with the Hutts, Palto is a personal friend. Face it Groga, we both know youve been doing some shady dealings, many of which im sure Palto was unaware of! So heres what your going to do...Your going to stop dealing arms and by way of an apology...ill take 30% of whatever you've earnt so far!" Groga looked terrified "Dont tell Palto! Please!" he cried. "Your treacherous ways are safe with me, coward!" With a swift kick Groga was rendered unconscious, Maveri turned to the hall of guests and projected his voice clearly "Let it be known to all of you, if anyone tries to cut in on my trades again, then i wont be so kind." With that,the Vilka left the party, travelling to the compound once more. Maveri was pleased with the events of the day, he had made a point AND profited, he was getting better with age.
TheGodfather
Member
Seen
8 yrs ago
Sep Migs Mayfield - Core
Member
Seen
0-24 hrs ago
Samson indicated for his XO to move out of the centre of the room which he himself then took. A circular light on the ceiling activated placing him in the centre of the circle he then nodded once and the figure of a man in military garments stood opposite him in a bluish light. He nodded at the leader of the Coledra government or at least the active leader after their revolt. A military man, not a previous Imperial from off world but a local commander who had opposed the royalistic views of his planetary system. His kind of man. He saluted the man before beginning.
"Greetings, I am Admiral Samson commander of what was once the Fifth Corellian fleet in the mighty Galactic Empire. While a noble idea and the way things should truly be it became corrupt by politicians and businessman as nobles claimed power for themselves only to be killed due to their corruption and lack of control. I salute your initiative at throwing out the corrupt noblemen and women. You however are now a prime suspect to futher corruption from the New Republic and its supposed democracy or what is left of the fractured Empire, now justly known as a Remnant. I offer my vessels and army to defend your world in exchange for a base of operations and supplies. I am sure over time we can forge a... beneficial alliance."
"Greetings, I am Admiral Samson commander of what was once the Fifth Corellian fleet in the mighty Galactic Empire. While a noble idea and the way things should truly be it became corrupt by politicians and businessman as nobles claimed power for themselves only to be killed due to their corruption and lack of control. I salute your initiative at throwing out the corrupt noblemen and women. You however are now a prime suspect to futher corruption from the New Republic and its supposed democracy or what is left of the fractured Empire, now justly known as a Remnant. I offer my vessels and army to defend your world in exchange for a base of operations and supplies. I am sure over time we can forge a... beneficial alliance."
GM
((For Sep))
High Marshal Frek Tulavach listened to this man, still wearing the uniform of the Imperial Navy as he spoke of allowing a base of operations and supplies in return for protection from the New Republic. Once the Admiral was finished, Tulavach said, "Thank you for your kind words, Admiral. Your offer is generous, although I must inform you that I have received similar overtures from both the New Republic and the Imperial Remnant, both of whom have more substantial fleets and ground forces than your own followers. While combining your forces with the Coreldan forces would put things more at a parity with those two factions, Corelda siding with either of them would tip the scales and offer us true protection." Tulavach paused, allowing the Admiral to contemplate his words, and then said, "I must also inform you that I have not accepted those offers either. Both sides are aware of the other's offers, and now you are aware of theirs as well, including the fact that they have offered payment in credits in addition to galactic involvement and galactic-strength protection." He paused again, then finished, "I am not declining your offer, Admiral, but you must understand that you need to offer something a bit more...substantial to tempt Corelda."
High Marshal Frek Tulavach listened to this man, still wearing the uniform of the Imperial Navy as he spoke of allowing a base of operations and supplies in return for protection from the New Republic. Once the Admiral was finished, Tulavach said, "Thank you for your kind words, Admiral. Your offer is generous, although I must inform you that I have received similar overtures from both the New Republic and the Imperial Remnant, both of whom have more substantial fleets and ground forces than your own followers. While combining your forces with the Coreldan forces would put things more at a parity with those two factions, Corelda siding with either of them would tip the scales and offer us true protection." Tulavach paused, allowing the Admiral to contemplate his words, and then said, "I must also inform you that I have not accepted those offers either. Both sides are aware of the other's offers, and now you are aware of theirs as well, including the fact that they have offered payment in credits in addition to galactic involvement and galactic-strength protection." He paused again, then finished, "I am not declining your offer, Admiral, but you must understand that you need to offer something a bit more...substantial to tempt Corelda."
Much to his disappointment, Nortrom didn't find anything of importance. There were no signs of imperial spies or an electronic device that could emit a signal. Since it wasn't his job to find the source of the mysterious signal, he assumed that it was abandoned equipment left by the Imperials before their retreat from Trandoin and moved on with his assignment. He exited the cave complex and entered the vehicle. It took him some time to adjust to the sunlight as Trandoin's sun was much harsher than Dantooine's. His next destination was Wron Jesgoh, the cafe owner.
It was already noon by the time Nortrom arrived to the specified location. The civilian district was very crowded at that time. Nortrom could use this to his advantage to hide from an ambush. For all he knew, the cafe could be a disguised base of operations for many spies, so an escape plan was necessary. Wron, on the other hand, couldn't do the same. As a Jedi, Nortrom could see him from afar, through force sense and sight. The crowd would only slow him down. With his force powers he had the upper hand even against many but this didn't guarantee success.
He found the cafe easily. He posed as a customer and kept a low profile as he didn't want to scare the suspect. As a Sentinel, he'd learned to be discreet. He approached Wong but before he could say anything...
((Hotshot, you can either start a dialog as Wron or making something else happen))
It was already noon by the time Nortrom arrived to the specified location. The civilian district was very crowded at that time. Nortrom could use this to his advantage to hide from an ambush. For all he knew, the cafe could be a disguised base of operations for many spies, so an escape plan was necessary. Wron, on the other hand, couldn't do the same. As a Jedi, Nortrom could see him from afar, through force sense and sight. The crowd would only slow him down. With his force powers he had the upper hand even against many but this didn't guarantee success.
He found the cafe easily. He posed as a customer and kept a low profile as he didn't want to scare the suspect. As a Sentinel, he'd learned to be discreet. He approached Wong but before he could say anything...
((Hotshot, you can either start a dialog as Wron or making something else happen))
Fat Boy Kyle
Member
Seen
1 day ago
Okuda – Corelda
Four men stood around on the landing pad in front of the Aka'jor-class shuttle. The landing pad was suspended off the Cliffside behind the palace and was one of many. There was a gentle breeze that blew dust and vent fumes lightly across the floor. All four men were wearing standard issue BlackStar armour, which consistent of all black lightweight armour, a sturdy chest piece and shoulders and some assault visor helmets. Okuda approached the pad whilst talking on his communicator. “Furdonias, its Okuda. I know you’re in a meeting right now, but I need a favour: when you get this message could you pull some strings down at my end. I need you to have someone deploy some DRK-1 probe droids to the Verasi Mountains to look for signs of the loyalist. If not a recon squad with some enhancescanners might work. I tried to acquire some recon myself but apparently I don’t pull high enough rank at Lieutenant ” Okuda spat, still insulted by the local BlackStar quartermaster.
As one of the men noticed Okuda coming up the ramp, the four of them stopped chatting and turned to greet him, almost standing at attention. “Good morning sir. Where are we off to?” asked the human man with long black hair and an unkempt stubble. This man was couldn’t quite be into his thirty’s yet and he seemed to have a brisk youthful confidence about him. Okuda nodded at the welcome.
“Corporal Jenkins. We’re off to the Verasi Mountains in search for a rebel group still loyal to the monarchy. Fuck knows why they keep their loyalty; I’d be surprised if there’s any of the inbred little shits still running around.” Okuda took a look at the faces of the other young men assembled, “Nice to see that I’m on babysitting duty. I would have thought I’d at least get a couple of men.”
Jenkins felt a mild knot forming in his stomach, “These were the only available men at such short notice. I did some background checks and made sure that each was trained, had seen battle and was well equipped for the mission. Which reminds me sir: we’ve got a couple of spare rifles on board as well as some CryoBan grenades, both of which were donated by our Coreldan counterparts.”
Despite Jenkins having acquired some extra weapons, Okuda still wasn’t impressed with the men assembled before him and Jenkins did not need to be told this. Okuda strolled over to one of the shipping crates, took a large marker and threw it to Jenkins. “I don’t care to learn your names. You’re number one, number two, three, and four” he said pointing to each man in turn. One of the men was clearly aggravated by the Corporals demeanour.
Jenkins shrugged slightly, “Does that include me sir? You know my name anyhow.”
“Number one or number five Jenkins?” Okuda asked without looking up, too focused on checking his own equipment, “And I want helmets on at all times. I’m sick your baby faces.”
((Please could you describe their destination, like their mountain outpost or what have you. And what, if any, success Okuda's request for recon yielded.))
Four men stood around on the landing pad in front of the Aka'jor-class shuttle. The landing pad was suspended off the Cliffside behind the palace and was one of many. There was a gentle breeze that blew dust and vent fumes lightly across the floor. All four men were wearing standard issue BlackStar armour, which consistent of all black lightweight armour, a sturdy chest piece and shoulders and some assault visor helmets. Okuda approached the pad whilst talking on his communicator. “Furdonias, its Okuda. I know you’re in a meeting right now, but I need a favour: when you get this message could you pull some strings down at my end. I need you to have someone deploy some DRK-1 probe droids to the Verasi Mountains to look for signs of the loyalist. If not a recon squad with some enhancescanners might work. I tried to acquire some recon myself but apparently I don’t pull high enough rank at Lieutenant ” Okuda spat, still insulted by the local BlackStar quartermaster.
As one of the men noticed Okuda coming up the ramp, the four of them stopped chatting and turned to greet him, almost standing at attention. “Good morning sir. Where are we off to?” asked the human man with long black hair and an unkempt stubble. This man was couldn’t quite be into his thirty’s yet and he seemed to have a brisk youthful confidence about him. Okuda nodded at the welcome.
“Corporal Jenkins. We’re off to the Verasi Mountains in search for a rebel group still loyal to the monarchy. Fuck knows why they keep their loyalty; I’d be surprised if there’s any of the inbred little shits still running around.” Okuda took a look at the faces of the other young men assembled, “Nice to see that I’m on babysitting duty. I would have thought I’d at least get a couple of men.”
Jenkins felt a mild knot forming in his stomach, “These were the only available men at such short notice. I did some background checks and made sure that each was trained, had seen battle and was well equipped for the mission. Which reminds me sir: we’ve got a couple of spare rifles on board as well as some CryoBan grenades, both of which were donated by our Coreldan counterparts.”
Despite Jenkins having acquired some extra weapons, Okuda still wasn’t impressed with the men assembled before him and Jenkins did not need to be told this. Okuda strolled over to one of the shipping crates, took a large marker and threw it to Jenkins. “I don’t care to learn your names. You’re number one, number two, three, and four” he said pointing to each man in turn. One of the men was clearly aggravated by the Corporals demeanour.
Jenkins shrugged slightly, “Does that include me sir? You know my name anyhow.”
“Number one or number five Jenkins?” Okuda asked without looking up, too focused on checking his own equipment, “And I want helmets on at all times. I’m sick your baby faces.”
((Please could you describe their destination, like their mountain outpost or what have you. And what, if any, success Okuda's request for recon yielded.))
GM
((For Nortrom))
"Hallo there, friend!" exclaimed Wron, seeing Nortrom approach across the cafe. Wron smiled, but it was an uneasy smile, as if he knew something was amiss. "Jedi, right?" he asked, and pointed to the odd manner of dress in which Nortrom was clad. "We don't get many Jedi 'round my cafe, but hey, I'm sure you can pay with the best of 'em, amiright? What can I do ya for, friend?"
((For Fat Boy Kyle))
The forward mountain outpost was controlled by the Coreldan military, a former mountain training center base camp for Army soldiers. It had all of the amenities required of a base camp, such as numerous living areas that were climate-controlled, a full medical center, a mess hall, a logistical support center and maintenance area, and a shooting range. All in all, it was a fairly solid outpost, and defended by a troop of the best mountain fighters in the Coreldan military. Additionally, Blackstar kept a small observation team at the outpost to assist and liaise with the Coreldans, but at this time, they were deployed up into the mountains, on a scouting mission. The observation team was conducting reconnaissance to try to find evidence of of the Loyalists operating in the area. Apparently, an officer back in the capital had learned from an interrogation that the Loyalists were located somewhere in these mountains, and had requested a quick recon ahead of his arrival. After extensive searching, however, the recon team could find only trace evidence of the Loyalists: a slightly-used trail. It was obvious that people were moving along the trail through a mountain pass about fifteen miles from the base camp, though their origination and destination were not apparent.
"Hallo there, friend!" exclaimed Wron, seeing Nortrom approach across the cafe. Wron smiled, but it was an uneasy smile, as if he knew something was amiss. "Jedi, right?" he asked, and pointed to the odd manner of dress in which Nortrom was clad. "We don't get many Jedi 'round my cafe, but hey, I'm sure you can pay with the best of 'em, amiright? What can I do ya for, friend?"
((For Fat Boy Kyle))
The forward mountain outpost was controlled by the Coreldan military, a former mountain training center base camp for Army soldiers. It had all of the amenities required of a base camp, such as numerous living areas that were climate-controlled, a full medical center, a mess hall, a logistical support center and maintenance area, and a shooting range. All in all, it was a fairly solid outpost, and defended by a troop of the best mountain fighters in the Coreldan military. Additionally, Blackstar kept a small observation team at the outpost to assist and liaise with the Coreldans, but at this time, they were deployed up into the mountains, on a scouting mission. The observation team was conducting reconnaissance to try to find evidence of of the Loyalists operating in the area. Apparently, an officer back in the capital had learned from an interrogation that the Loyalists were located somewhere in these mountains, and had requested a quick recon ahead of his arrival. After extensive searching, however, the recon team could find only trace evidence of the Loyalists: a slightly-used trail. It was obvious that people were moving along the trail through a mountain pass about fifteen miles from the base camp, though their origination and destination were not apparent.
GM
((For Assallya))
A tall, stocky man in silvery-green armor walked up behind Aala. His face was concealed behind a familiar T-shaped visor, and his armor showed signs of wear and battle chipped across it; a single blaster pistol hung at his waist, although modifications to his armor hinted at other weaponry concealed within it. The man’s name was Tor’al, a bodyguard of Palto the Hutt, and though he wore the armor of the Mandalorians, no one was exactly certain of his past or his experience, or even if he was truly as skilled as a Mandalorian; usually, the armor and the T-shaped visor of his helmet was enough to deter would-be attackers.
Tor’al stopped a few feet from the fountain and spoke, his voice coming out slightly digitized through his helmet microphone, “You, Twi’lek, come. Palto wants to see you.”
A tall, stocky man in silvery-green armor walked up behind Aala. His face was concealed behind a familiar T-shaped visor, and his armor showed signs of wear and battle chipped across it; a single blaster pistol hung at his waist, although modifications to his armor hinted at other weaponry concealed within it. The man’s name was Tor’al, a bodyguard of Palto the Hutt, and though he wore the armor of the Mandalorians, no one was exactly certain of his past or his experience, or even if he was truly as skilled as a Mandalorian; usually, the armor and the T-shaped visor of his helmet was enough to deter would-be attackers.
Tor’al stopped a few feet from the fountain and spoke, his voice coming out slightly digitized through his helmet microphone, “You, Twi’lek, come. Palto wants to see you.”
Aala nearly swooned at the news. Her lekku stiffened, beginning to coil up towards the base of her skull for a brief moment. Emotions were running rampant through her small frame. Why was she being summoned? Did he desire a dance? Did he desire something more, to give her to someone as a gift? She still sometimes shuddered at the thought of her first night here at Palto's palace.
Reaching down she began to pull on a netting of glimmering beads. It did little to cover her nakedness. It was nothing but a loose assemblage of shiny stones, not gems since Palto would not risk his earnings upon gemstones. She quietly rose, turning in place and slipped barefoot across the room and into the corridor, falling into step behind Tor'al.
"What does Palto wish with me?" Aala asked timidly as she followed the broad back of the Mandalorian styled armour.
Reaching down she began to pull on a netting of glimmering beads. It did little to cover her nakedness. It was nothing but a loose assemblage of shiny stones, not gems since Palto would not risk his earnings upon gemstones. She quietly rose, turning in place and slipped barefoot across the room and into the corridor, falling into step behind Tor'al.
"What does Palto wish with me?" Aala asked timidly as she followed the broad back of the Mandalorian styled armour.
Furcht - Corelda
Furcht walked out of the office, silently fuming... all the work, all that effort, and he gets stuck with escort duty? No matter, he thought to himself as he stepped into his quarters, I'll simply have to make the best of it, treat it like a training exercise, get to know my men. He sat down at his desk, perusing the list of potential candidates... one caught his eye almost immediately, a female Rodian, Needra. Top mark in sharpshooting, offered sniper specialization training, turned it down to stay on the front lines. Further down the list he saw another one, Human male goes by "Bull", heavy weapons specialist, cybernetic implants allowing him to carry and operate even heavier weapons than normal. Proceeding down the list he spotted a Bothan male, Vosh'ka, with excellent marks at infiltration but as far as he could tell, Vosh'ka had merely been passed over simply because he was Bothan. Finally Furcht spots a human female, Vivian, solid leadership skills, used to commanding a squad but got demoted after a mission fell apart. Furcht messaged all of them to meet in the briefing room for instructions.
"Welcome to your new squad, our first assignment is escort duty on this convoy, simple mission so lets not screw it up. Bull, you will be riding point on the front speeder with Vivian. Needra, your in center vehicle, up where you can see, your my eyes on this one, so head on a swivel. Vosh'ka, you will be bringing up the rear with me. Any questions?" He got a chorus of "No sirs" "Good" he replied "you people know what to do, gear up and we will assemble in 20 min."
((unless you had other plans i was thinking the next thing would be while actually on mission))
Furcht walked out of the office, silently fuming... all the work, all that effort, and he gets stuck with escort duty? No matter, he thought to himself as he stepped into his quarters, I'll simply have to make the best of it, treat it like a training exercise, get to know my men. He sat down at his desk, perusing the list of potential candidates... one caught his eye almost immediately, a female Rodian, Needra. Top mark in sharpshooting, offered sniper specialization training, turned it down to stay on the front lines. Further down the list he saw another one, Human male goes by "Bull", heavy weapons specialist, cybernetic implants allowing him to carry and operate even heavier weapons than normal. Proceeding down the list he spotted a Bothan male, Vosh'ka, with excellent marks at infiltration but as far as he could tell, Vosh'ka had merely been passed over simply because he was Bothan. Finally Furcht spots a human female, Vivian, solid leadership skills, used to commanding a squad but got demoted after a mission fell apart. Furcht messaged all of them to meet in the briefing room for instructions.
"Welcome to your new squad, our first assignment is escort duty on this convoy, simple mission so lets not screw it up. Bull, you will be riding point on the front speeder with Vivian. Needra, your in center vehicle, up where you can see, your my eyes on this one, so head on a swivel. Vosh'ka, you will be bringing up the rear with me. Any questions?" He got a chorus of "No sirs" "Good" he replied "you people know what to do, gear up and we will assemble in 20 min."
((unless you had other plans i was thinking the next thing would be while actually on mission))
Sep Migs Mayfield - Core
Member
Seen
0-24 hrs ago
Samson nodded. "I completely understand High Marshall, we shall be in touch and hope you will think of us if you need us. I am not object to perhaps offering aid as a good will gesture for a short period of time unlike the New Republic and Imperial Forces where if you join you are in it for a longer period of time. However we can discuss things at a later date that is better than you. You know how to contact me now I shall leave you to your business." He ended the call with a salute and then and then turned back to his XO. "It looks like we will be returning to building the fleet and fixing up the ships. We'll take a second look at the individual systems later and then design a plan for each individual system before we actually do anything." He paused for a moment and took out his holotablet and checked out several items.
The best thing they could probably do would be to loan themselves of as mercenaries... though that wasn't the best work however everyone needed credits to function fully.
The best thing they could probably do would be to loan themselves of as mercenaries... though that wasn't the best work however everyone needed credits to function fully.
GM
((For Assallya))
Tor'al did not reply, instead remaining silent as he led the Twi'lek dancer towards Palto's throne room. At the door stood two Weequays, standing guard, armed with vibro-pikes and blaster pistols. One of them stepped to the side and pulled the old-fashioned, ornate door aside to allow Tor'al and Aala into the room. Palto the Hutt's throne room was, as in the manner of Hutts, ornate and extravagant. Dancers, courtiers, and armed men filled the throne room, and at the center of it all, on a golden gias, sat Palto the Hutt in all of his slimy glory. His booming laugh echoed through the throne room as one of the courtiers told a joke, and Tor'al continued to lead Aala toward the dias. Palto's eyes caught sight of Aala and focused in on her, and he raised a stubby, fat arm at her and waved her forward. "Come, pretty one," he boomed in Huttese. "Tell me about yourself. Tell me a story of your life."
((For Sep))
"Sir," said the XO, "I would still recommend Colisore. You were right that we perhaps do not have the strength at the moment to fully take control of the planet, but the planet did have a small navy, and we could appropriate some of those ships for ourselves. The navy is split, just as the people on the ground are split, so they will be easier to isolate and pick off." The XO handed the Admiral a datapad and said, "Look at this, sir. The Colisore Navy consists of ten Diamond-class cruisers, five Tartan-class patrol cruisers, and one Dauntless-class heavy cruiser. The loyalists on the planet still hold the Dauntless and a few of the other ships, but the majority of the smaller ships are controlled by the revolutionary government."
((For Galgarion))
The convoy commander approached Furcht and said, "My boys are all ready to go. We can move whenever you're ready. We have five trucks full of supplies, so just tell us where you're going to be and we can be ready to leave."
Tor'al did not reply, instead remaining silent as he led the Twi'lek dancer towards Palto's throne room. At the door stood two Weequays, standing guard, armed with vibro-pikes and blaster pistols. One of them stepped to the side and pulled the old-fashioned, ornate door aside to allow Tor'al and Aala into the room. Palto the Hutt's throne room was, as in the manner of Hutts, ornate and extravagant. Dancers, courtiers, and armed men filled the throne room, and at the center of it all, on a golden gias, sat Palto the Hutt in all of his slimy glory. His booming laugh echoed through the throne room as one of the courtiers told a joke, and Tor'al continued to lead Aala toward the dias. Palto's eyes caught sight of Aala and focused in on her, and he raised a stubby, fat arm at her and waved her forward. "Come, pretty one," he boomed in Huttese. "Tell me about yourself. Tell me a story of your life."
((For Sep))
"Sir," said the XO, "I would still recommend Colisore. You were right that we perhaps do not have the strength at the moment to fully take control of the planet, but the planet did have a small navy, and we could appropriate some of those ships for ourselves. The navy is split, just as the people on the ground are split, so they will be easier to isolate and pick off." The XO handed the Admiral a datapad and said, "Look at this, sir. The Colisore Navy consists of ten Diamond-class cruisers, five Tartan-class patrol cruisers, and one Dauntless-class heavy cruiser. The loyalists on the planet still hold the Dauntless and a few of the other ships, but the majority of the smaller ships are controlled by the revolutionary government."
((For Galgarion))
The convoy commander approached Furcht and said, "My boys are all ready to go. We can move whenever you're ready. We have five trucks full of supplies, so just tell us where you're going to be and we can be ready to leave."
Fear and terror washed over her, Aala swallowed, nearly throwing up a little into her mouth. Why? Why would Palto, as great as he was, spare even a moment's thought as to why she even existed? She was nothing. She was nothing but property. Even as she approached the golden dais she found herself cowering, her shoulders slouching, her tread lighter as if afraid of interrupting proceedings with the scape of sole against the polished wood and imported marble. Finally she alighted upon her knees and pressed her forehead against the floor in supplication to the obese god.
"Surely, oh great Palto would be far more interested in other things," Aala floundered, her downcast eyes, her very countenance screaming obeisance, "I am naught but what you wish me to be."
"Surely, oh great Palto would be far more interested in other things," Aala floundered, her downcast eyes, her very countenance screaming obeisance, "I am naught but what you wish me to be."
Alex agreed that in this very moment, things could simply not be better then their were right now. It was safe to say, that there existed no greater pleasure in the whole of the Galaxy, than savouring the taste of a twenty-two hundred thousand credit bottle of Corellian scotch. Well, that's what Alex thought, and who was anyone else to complain?
However, at this point, Alex hadn't even opened the bottle, it just stood motionless taunting him on his table.He wasn't all too sure what exactly stopping him from indulging his pleasures in such a good investment. Upon reflection, that probably had something to do with the part where said scotch was bought from money in which he had acquired from means that were, well, would get a man shot, no matter his position.
Another man would probably gulp that up, when you were in such a position as Alex is, your days are very much numbered. Why not make your last few days, good days?
And then he saw him, across the bar trying to be nondescript and out of the way. He was good at doing that, to anyone one else, he was just another patron at a high-end establishment, but to Alex he stood out like a sore thumb. He was the reason that Alex was here, damn him and his ways, because of this son of a bitch, Alex had went from an Imperialist to the heart, to a man who sells classified documents to the Republic, in exchange for credits, which he then inturn spends on scotch, that he won't drink.
'Now the fun begins', he thought to himself, 'how many more deaths will I cause today?' It wasn't a question he could answer, and that was good, he didn't want to know.
"I'd offer you a glass," said Alex, as his handler sat next to him. "But I can't find it in myself to be kind to you, so you'll have to do without."
However, at this point, Alex hadn't even opened the bottle, it just stood motionless taunting him on his table.He wasn't all too sure what exactly stopping him from indulging his pleasures in such a good investment. Upon reflection, that probably had something to do with the part where said scotch was bought from money in which he had acquired from means that were, well, would get a man shot, no matter his position.
Another man would probably gulp that up, when you were in such a position as Alex is, your days are very much numbered. Why not make your last few days, good days?
And then he saw him, across the bar trying to be nondescript and out of the way. He was good at doing that, to anyone one else, he was just another patron at a high-end establishment, but to Alex he stood out like a sore thumb. He was the reason that Alex was here, damn him and his ways, because of this son of a bitch, Alex had went from an Imperialist to the heart, to a man who sells classified documents to the Republic, in exchange for credits, which he then inturn spends on scotch, that he won't drink.
'Now the fun begins', he thought to himself, 'how many more deaths will I cause today?' It wasn't a question he could answer, and that was good, he didn't want to know.
"I'd offer you a glass," said Alex, as his handler sat next to him. "But I can't find it in myself to be kind to you, so you'll have to do without."
Fat Boy Kyle
Member
Seen
1 day ago
Okuda - Fort Kerak
Okuda’s team touched down at the camp later in the evening. The journey had taken much longer than he had expected, and there had also been a long delay just to get the shuttle piloted and off the ground; despite their setting and his employers, Okuda was still restricted by regulations and procedures. The whole squad was relieved to exit the shuttle and get a breath of fresh air, mostly due to the tension that had built due to Okuda’s venting of his irritation.
“Lieutenant Okuda.” came a disciplined voice as Okuda left the landing pad. Before him stood to attention was a BlackStar soldier, his features hidden by his helmet. Upon acknowledgement the solider continued, “Welcome to Fort Kerak sir! Our scouts have picked up a trail in the mountains about fifteen miles from here and believe it may be signs of Loyalists. They’re still out and our awaiting your orders sir. You also have a message waiting for you in the briefing room from Major Furdonias. No-one’s listened to it as it’s marked for your eyes only. However Captain Beaufort, the Coreldan officer currently in charge of this outpost requested to view it before your arrival. Off the record sir, he’s an awkward bastard and doesn’t like sharing with us – he tries to intercept all intel we get.”
Okuda had no trouble taking in all the information that had been reeled off to him. “Private have the scouts continue to follow the trail and look for any signs of activity. Tell them me and my team will attempt to find and assimilate them later. Catch up to my men over there and tell them they have one hour to prepare. As for the nosey Captain, spread the word that any BlackStar soldier that takes an order from anyone outside of our ranks will be lashed and sold to the Hutts by me personally.” It was not first time that Okuda had experienced difficulties with their Coreldan counterparts, and he was more than happy to initiate some persuasive tactics should this Captain hinder him.
Okuda traversed through the various buildings toward the BlackStar building, made apparent by the flag flying above it and the men standing guard outside. On his journey Okuda noticed how little a presence BlackStar had in this outpost, only seeing the odd soldier in black. BlackStar wasn’t as needed here, nor did it seem wanted here. The Coreldans here were clearly those of rural stock and hadn’t become normalised to the outsiders like those in the cities had. Okuda wondered whether any of the people who shot him suspicious glances were completely loyal to the new rulers, or whether they were simply making the best of their situation. ‘This Captain Beaufort may even be behind the lack of BlackStar influence’ Okuda thought.
Okuda had no problem entering the building, his armour and menacing look providing sufficient identification to guards along his path. Once inside the briefing room was also fairly easy to find. It was a large room in almost the shape of a circular triangle, with acceding rows of chairs on each side facing down into the middle where there sat a large holo-table. The empty room was slightly eerie and although he doubted the message contained anything too sensitive, he still couldn’t help but wonder how secure the room was. Putting his suspicions aside Okuda booted up the holo-table and completed a hand scan to access the message from Furdonias. The Bothan’s recorded image was projected above the table and due to the size of the projection many of his features could be made out. The fur on Furdonias’ face was a silvery gray with patches of white that accentuated his strikingly black eyes, which along with his more chiseled features (in comparison to most of his race) gave him an intimidating appearance. His mane was darker than his face, gradually going from dark grey to eventually black as his hair was extended back into a ponytail. His voice was gruff but easy to hear and carried with it a certain strength, “Lieutenant Okuda. My apologies I have not been able to speak to you in person, my time has been stretched. As you must already know I arranged the recon you asked for. There have been some developments you should know about. We have reason to believe there has been an increase in the cartel activity on Corelda; whilst they rarely pose a problem to us, any shifts in power balances might place us at a financial disadvantage. More troubling is the presence of a fleet that’s recently entered the system. We don’t know much about them but we've reason to believe they have had some form of communication with a person or persons on Corelda. I hope neither of these are to present us with any issues, but remember Okuda, you’re on Corelda to protect our interests… at any costs.”
((You don't need to add anything if you don't want to, this was just like a massive filler post :P You could perhaps talk about the scouts or the Coreldan Captain?))
Okuda’s team touched down at the camp later in the evening. The journey had taken much longer than he had expected, and there had also been a long delay just to get the shuttle piloted and off the ground; despite their setting and his employers, Okuda was still restricted by regulations and procedures. The whole squad was relieved to exit the shuttle and get a breath of fresh air, mostly due to the tension that had built due to Okuda’s venting of his irritation.
“Lieutenant Okuda.” came a disciplined voice as Okuda left the landing pad. Before him stood to attention was a BlackStar soldier, his features hidden by his helmet. Upon acknowledgement the solider continued, “Welcome to Fort Kerak sir! Our scouts have picked up a trail in the mountains about fifteen miles from here and believe it may be signs of Loyalists. They’re still out and our awaiting your orders sir. You also have a message waiting for you in the briefing room from Major Furdonias. No-one’s listened to it as it’s marked for your eyes only. However Captain Beaufort, the Coreldan officer currently in charge of this outpost requested to view it before your arrival. Off the record sir, he’s an awkward bastard and doesn’t like sharing with us – he tries to intercept all intel we get.”
Okuda had no trouble taking in all the information that had been reeled off to him. “Private have the scouts continue to follow the trail and look for any signs of activity. Tell them me and my team will attempt to find and assimilate them later. Catch up to my men over there and tell them they have one hour to prepare. As for the nosey Captain, spread the word that any BlackStar soldier that takes an order from anyone outside of our ranks will be lashed and sold to the Hutts by me personally.” It was not first time that Okuda had experienced difficulties with their Coreldan counterparts, and he was more than happy to initiate some persuasive tactics should this Captain hinder him.
Okuda traversed through the various buildings toward the BlackStar building, made apparent by the flag flying above it and the men standing guard outside. On his journey Okuda noticed how little a presence BlackStar had in this outpost, only seeing the odd soldier in black. BlackStar wasn’t as needed here, nor did it seem wanted here. The Coreldans here were clearly those of rural stock and hadn’t become normalised to the outsiders like those in the cities had. Okuda wondered whether any of the people who shot him suspicious glances were completely loyal to the new rulers, or whether they were simply making the best of their situation. ‘This Captain Beaufort may even be behind the lack of BlackStar influence’ Okuda thought.
Okuda had no problem entering the building, his armour and menacing look providing sufficient identification to guards along his path. Once inside the briefing room was also fairly easy to find. It was a large room in almost the shape of a circular triangle, with acceding rows of chairs on each side facing down into the middle where there sat a large holo-table. The empty room was slightly eerie and although he doubted the message contained anything too sensitive, he still couldn’t help but wonder how secure the room was. Putting his suspicions aside Okuda booted up the holo-table and completed a hand scan to access the message from Furdonias. The Bothan’s recorded image was projected above the table and due to the size of the projection many of his features could be made out. The fur on Furdonias’ face was a silvery gray with patches of white that accentuated his strikingly black eyes, which along with his more chiseled features (in comparison to most of his race) gave him an intimidating appearance. His mane was darker than his face, gradually going from dark grey to eventually black as his hair was extended back into a ponytail. His voice was gruff but easy to hear and carried with it a certain strength, “Lieutenant Okuda. My apologies I have not been able to speak to you in person, my time has been stretched. As you must already know I arranged the recon you asked for. There have been some developments you should know about. We have reason to believe there has been an increase in the cartel activity on Corelda; whilst they rarely pose a problem to us, any shifts in power balances might place us at a financial disadvantage. More troubling is the presence of a fleet that’s recently entered the system. We don’t know much about them but we've reason to believe they have had some form of communication with a person or persons on Corelda. I hope neither of these are to present us with any issues, but remember Okuda, you’re on Corelda to protect our interests… at any costs.”
((You don't need to add anything if you don't want to, this was just like a massive filler post :P You could perhaps talk about the scouts or the Coreldan Captain?))
GM
((For Assallya))
Palto's booming laughter filled the hall, and many of his courtiers laughed along with him, not out of any particular humor, but rather to appease the massive Hutt. "I wish for you to keep my truest bodyguard, Tor'al, company this evening!" Palto exclaimed. Next to the Hutt, Tor'al shifted his weight and turned his head slightly to look at Palto, barely being able to conceal his surprise at this sudden bequeathment. Around the court, many people cheered and whistled, as much for Tor'al as to humiliate the young Twi'lek girl. "Go now, and revel tonight!"
Tor'al stepped aside, motioned with his hand for the girl to follow, and walked behind Palto into one of the back guest rooms. As soon as they were both inside, Tor'al pressed the button to close and lock the door, and then turned around. Rather than begin undressing, or make any move to begin what Palto had offered him, Tor'al instead stood there and folded his arms across his chest, unwilling to budge for anything.
((For Laufey))
"Charming, as usual," said Eyrtij, flagging down the waitress by putting one finger up. "A Red Dwarfm please."
"Comin' right up," replied the waitress, before moving off to fill the order.
"You look like shit," said Eyrtij. "What the Sith have you gotten into?"
Palto's booming laughter filled the hall, and many of his courtiers laughed along with him, not out of any particular humor, but rather to appease the massive Hutt. "I wish for you to keep my truest bodyguard, Tor'al, company this evening!" Palto exclaimed. Next to the Hutt, Tor'al shifted his weight and turned his head slightly to look at Palto, barely being able to conceal his surprise at this sudden bequeathment. Around the court, many people cheered and whistled, as much for Tor'al as to humiliate the young Twi'lek girl. "Go now, and revel tonight!"
Tor'al stepped aside, motioned with his hand for the girl to follow, and walked behind Palto into one of the back guest rooms. As soon as they were both inside, Tor'al pressed the button to close and lock the door, and then turned around. Rather than begin undressing, or make any move to begin what Palto had offered him, Tor'al instead stood there and folded his arms across his chest, unwilling to budge for anything.
((For Laufey))
"Charming, as usual," said Eyrtij, flagging down the waitress by putting one finger up. "A Red Dwarfm please."
"Comin' right up," replied the waitress, before moving off to fill the order.
"You look like shit," said Eyrtij. "What the Sith have you gotten into?"
Taken back a little by Eyrtij's comment, Alex almost wasn't sure on what to say. "Oh you know" he started, "trying not to get myself killed for one." Putting his hand over his mouth, before he yawned, Alex realised he hadn't shaved this morning, and then he realised he hadn't even looked in a mirror in days, no doubt he looked like shit."So, do you actually have money for this time, or has your purse sprung a leak, again, eh?"
He could feel a burning sensation on his chest, not one of actual origin. Just his mind reminding him where death lay, in his suits inner breast pocket. A simple envelope, which had a sufficient amount of information to do untold harm on his beloved Empire . . . How the mighty had fallen.
He could feel a burning sensation on his chest, not one of actual origin. Just his mind reminding him where death lay, in his suits inner breast pocket. A simple envelope, which had a sufficient amount of information to do untold harm on his beloved Empire . . . How the mighty had fallen.
Aala had nodded her ascent to Palto's demand. She dared not protest. She followed the bounty hunter meekly, doing her best to ignore the jeers and taunts. When she finally arrived in Tor'al's chambers she didn't know what to do. The man's helmet was implacable. She could not read his facial expressions. She had not seen his surprise in the courtroom due to her downcast eyes.
Though obscured by the paltry covering that was the netting of stone beads she found herself uncomfortable She withered beneath his gaze, moving to cover herself and then very consciously lowered her arms. What did he expect of her? Finally she lowered herself to her knees and straightened her back with her arms outstretched.
"What would you have of me oh master," she managed, her voice breaking in mid-sentence.
Though obscured by the paltry covering that was the netting of stone beads she found herself uncomfortable She withered beneath his gaze, moving to cover herself and then very consciously lowered her arms. What did he expect of her? Finally she lowered herself to her knees and straightened her back with her arms outstretched.
"What would you have of me oh master," she managed, her voice breaking in mid-sentence.
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