NationStates Jolt Archive


Lust, Greed and Paranoia [FT Intro, Open]

HuttSpace
27-06-2006, 20:16
Gorga Vosadii Tiure sat, or rather lay, in a typically opulently appointed chamber just outside the Grand Council meeting chambers. The wall adjacent to the Grand Council chamber was one-way transparisteel, allowing Gorga to watch the goings on of the council and decisions of his kajidic head Worva. That tiny human-looking chubba! Thinks she is so superior to the rest of us! Heh... just wait....

Inside the Grand Council chamber the leaders of the eleven kajidics were beginning to gather in the even more opulent room. Squirming slimy treats were arranged all around the room, dancing girls in corners and a jizz band played slightly off-tune to one side of the meeting area. Scattered throughout the chamber were the various mercenaries of the kajidic heads, each contingent eying the others suspiciously. Once all the leaders had slithered or floated their way into the chamber, Voga Besadii - leader of the most powerful kajidic and therefore the de facto leader of the Hutts - called for a start to the meeting.

"Brother-sisters, we can enjoy the entertainments" Voga turned a lustful eye on a Twi'lek dancing girl in the corner, " later. First, let us hear the credit reports hm?"

In the next room, Gorga slinked away to safety and a waiting shuttle. Soon he would be back on Nar Shaddaa where he could take full advantage of the coming calamity. Soon the Vosadii would rule the Hutts, with him at the helm, and all the credits would flow to and from him...

Behind him in the Council chamber the meeting continued. The Besadii chief was reporting the credit flows from the black markets on Fondor where his kajidic held much sway. "With recent conflict, spice sales have grown by nearly 62%, amounting to an additional 4 million credits in our coffers. The slave market has fallen through, with revenues at only 73% of last month's levels. A loss of nearly 1.2 million credits...."

Around the room the other Hutts frowned in disgust at the loss of so many credits. Nothing disgusted or angered a Hutt like losing credits. Someone's head would roll for this mishap....

As the Besadii chief continued, no one noticed a barely audible beep under a table in the center of the room. A few seconds later a small nuclear bomb, roughly the equivilent of a proton torpedo, detonated. The entire chamber and it's contents were vaporized instantly. The whole wing of the Grand Council palace was vaporized next and the whole palace set ablaze. Rescue crews, made up mostly of Twi'leks, Klatooinians and other subject races rushed to the scene but could not save the Grand Council. In the ensuing investigation the results of analysis on the explosion were ambiguous, it could have been anyone. This is exactly what Gorga wanted.

Soon all the kajidics were accusing each other of the act. Bombings and assassinations began to flow back and forth as the Hutts fought for leadership of their nation. The Hutt Civil War had begun.
1010102
27-06-2006, 20:18
OCC: how do you want this to work?
Amazonian Beasts
27-06-2006, 20:27
Teljak Varn didn't need more of an incident to smile. Controlled Chaos was his business, and this chaos started needed some controlling. That was what his energy rifle was for...and it could make a serious dent in people's lives...or their heads.
Taking time out for some fun, Varn lay prone at the top of a small, underhanging building near the bomb blast site of the old meeting chambers, as several Twi'lek's stood around, discussing something. Not that that mattered, Varn just wanted to fire the first shot to launch a string of fighting. He especially took note as another Hutt slithered nearby, somewhat towards one of the female Twi'lek's position. Varn lefted the disrupter rifle to his eyes, scoping in on her head. All that would be left would be a small, smoldering pile of glowing ash...
Teljak waited until the Hutt was in what would be firing range, then fixed the center of the scope on the female Twi'lek's chest. Recalibrating the power settings to leave a corpse, and therefore evidence, Teljak once again lifted the rifle to his eye, then jammed his finger back against the trigger, the recoil shunted into his right shoulder. A white bolt flew from the barrel of the disrupter, right on the path of target, just as Varn wanted...but the Twi'lek moved at the wrong moment, the bolt instead catching her in the neck, leaving the victim alive, but writhing in pain as the other Twi'leks scrambled for cover. Varn fretted, his work interupted, but cocked the weapon again, aiming to finish the job, as the Hutt seemed passive nearby...all the better. Varn aimed for the head of the writhing girl, and pulsed another blast, this fire hitting a kill on the target, ending the alien's pains. Varn smiled, then holstered the rifle on his back, getting to his feet, and running off.
The Mesa System
27-06-2006, 23:17
Nar Shaddaa

A sleek yacht, shaped almost like a three deck chrome bullet, landed gently on one of the thousands of docking platforms on the crowded moon. On the side of its hull was proudly emblazoned the seal of the Mesan Corporate Conglomerate. A hatch slid open, and a full squad of ten marines disembarked, followed by a tall blonde haired gentleman in an expensive suit.

His eyes panned across the tarmac, taking in the buildings towering around it, drinking in the details. "Smells like shit," he remarked to the squad leader. "I'll probably have to burn this suit later, I doubt the smell of this world will ever leave the fabric."

An aide hurried up to his side. "Mr. Hess, I've compiled up a list of the Hutt clans and local crime lords."

Hess turned his head to fix the aide, a young Beta Plus, with a satisfied look. "Who's first on the list?"

"Vosadii, a Hutt clan with holdings on this moon, I figured since they were the closest, we could start with them and work our way down the list...unfortunately we don't have much information on their business dealings or even clan politics."

Hess sighed, "You should have started with the most powerful clan actually, but whatever, contact them and try and arrange a meeting. I'm going to do a bit of shopping and find a hotel, I'll contact you later."

"Yes Sir."

The aid bowed and returned to the yacht as Hess and his security detachment took an aircar and flew off into the city.

A message was soon composed and sent to the Hutt clan.


To the Majordomo of kajidic Vosadii,

I am Leonard Avery, adjutant to Mr. Albert Hess, emissary of the Mesan Corporate Conglomerate. If it would be possible, I would like to arrange for a meeting between Mr. Hess and the current Vosadii leader or a representative of him or her, concerning a potentially very profitable business proposition concerning the...to put it delicately, free labor market. We can be reached at docking platform GH-232.

Sincerely,
Leonard Avery
Mesan Corporate Conglomerate
HuttSpace
28-06-2006, 00:05
Gorga Vosadii's Throne Chamber

A slimy looking Twi'lek majordomo stood to one side of Gorga's massive, stinking bulk as he listened to a report from a Klatooinian emissary. The emissary was from a rival kajidic, a minor player in the struggle for power known to the outside galaxy as Shell Hutts.

"...hereby grant fifty percent of our holdings and spice revenues to the Vosadii as a sign of fealty and in return for a cessation of hostilities."

The Klatooinian knelt as he delivered the last sentence of his report. Gorga eyed him suspiciously for a moment then laughed in the booming style of an adult Hutt. "Your surrender is accepted!"

Interrupting further laughter, the Klatooinian spoke up. "We are not surrendering, we are simply supporting your bid for leadership of the kajidics..."

"You have surrendered your autonomy and business to me. You will accept this, unless you wish further conflict with the Vosadii...."

"I... we... accept this..." The Klatooinian replied, broken. He was led away by a pair of Nikto guards to make room for the next person to seek an audience. Instead, the Twi'lek majordomo stepped from the shadows and whispered in Gorga's "ear". Immediately his eyes widened in delight. More credits! More power and more influence! First three kajidics surrender to his power and now this... He waved the majordomo forward to play the message.

Once it had finished playing, the following reply was sent to docking platform GH-232.


To Leonard Avery, Mesa Corporate Conglomerate
Re: Free Labour Market

The mighty and wise Gorga the Hutt, patron of kajidic Vosadii, would be most happy to meet with your representative to discuss your profitable business proposition. You are requested to present yourself to Level 2 of the Refugee District at exactly 13:00 tomorrow for your audience. Do not be late, his excellency does not like to be kept waiting.

Irol Dethria, Majordomo to Gorga Vosadii
The Humankind Abh
28-06-2006, 02:21
Peacekeeping had not been his favorite pass time and yet it seemed to be the destiny of this ship's maiden voyage. A quick stop in a new territory to deal with the Sephiroth empire and protect some unknown new nation all because they were giving aid to the wrong person. Now it seemed that Richard Rahl and his crew would stumble upon a civil war. Perhaps it could prove profitable, or it may just get them all killed and allow the Empire's new ship to fall into unknown hands.

Surrounding the double teardrop shaped flagship were Rambirds gliding silently through Hyperspace as their organic bodies "swam" back and forth. They were approaching their next sector for appointed manuevers and system check.

The hard heels of a Mord Sith clicked the floor of the ship as she approached her Lord Rahl. "My Lord, we are preparing to make the jump to normal space."

Richard sat in a marble throne specifically carved for this very vessel as it would serve as his command ship from now on. His sword rested against the armrest off to his left while his fist supported his head. "Very well. Make the jump but program the other ships to remain in Hyperspace unless we need them."

A great flash of light appeared in Huttspace as the realm of normal space was torn away to the depths of Hyperspace. The ship glided out back into the realm of the planets and stars.
Unified Sith
28-06-2006, 02:38
The Empire enjoyed its self proclaimed right to rule the Galaxy. The Imperial navy lavished in it's sphere of control and dominion over countless worlds and races. But the Hutts had always been something of an enigma. There was no denying that their black market scams and profitering offered considerable annoyance to the Imperial customs patrols, however the credits always ended back into the hands of the establishment in the end. A small amount of dust here, a cache of illegal weapons there was hardly something to be concerned about on a Galactic level.

But when trade suddenly drops off, when the illegal scams and black markets suddenly taper into non existence; there is inevitably some concern.......

OOC: Consider this a rather large tag. Won't be doing anything further until something happens.
HuttSpace
28-06-2006, 18:45
Y'toub System

As the Abh vessel exited hyperspace it was immediately picked up by the sensors of Nal Hutta orbital command. It's own sensors were bombarded by sensor contacts all around her and the two worlds ahead. Freighters, large and small streamed from both Nar Shaddaa and Nal Hutta. Interspersed with them were small patrol frigates and fighters, keeping the peace and occassionally firing potshots at ships from other kajidics. Literally thousands of vessels littered the system, everything from tiny spice smugglers to massive slaver ships. In the Y'toub system, crime was the economy.

A few moments after entering real space, the Abh vessel was contacted by a semi-polite female Twi'lek traffic controller.
Unidentified vessel, please turn on your transponder so that we may address you by your name. Unfortunately we do not have surface berths large enough for your vessel free at this time. Please take up low orbit at the following coordinates. Take the route I am transmitting to you. Do not transgress from this route. Once you reach orbit we will send a pair of shuttles to unload your cargo, transfer credits to your accounts for payment and transport any crew who wish to go on shore leave. Nal Hutta Orbital Command recommends Nar Shaddaa's Red District. Thank You.

Elsewhere

Across the galaxy Hutt syndicates were engaged in a massive turf war in an attempt to become the most powerful kajidic and leader of the Hutts. Mercenaries and henchmen regularly gunned each other down on the streets of every major world. Soon the smaller more insignificant kajidics had begun to ally themselves with the three largest kajidics for protection.

The three kajidics left fighting for control were the Vosadii, Besadii and Desilijic. The Vosadii, Gorga's kajidic had taken controll of 4/5ths of Nar Shaddaa as well as a quarter of the Nal Hutta market and various shares in the markets on Coruscant, Fondor, Tatooine, Ryloth, Rodia and Atzerri. The Besadii, former leaders of the Hutts, had a majority share of the markets on Fondor and Corellia with smaller shares on Tatooine, Ryloth and Coruscant. The Desilijic, almost fully recovered from the loss of their favourite son Jabba, held the majority of the Tatooine, Ryloth and Atzerri markets with smaller shares on Coruscant, Rodia and Fondor. The lines had been drawn.
The Ctan
28-06-2006, 23:02
Erisath watched from behind silver eyes as the avatar of the ship she was on explained its latest cunning plan. A short, exceedingly plump, man rendered with cartoon-like detail – an artful trick of holography that wasn’t lost on her – dressed in a crimson and gold velour uniform sat opposite her, attended on by another avatar, this one of a classical little green man, dressed in the same uniform, carrying a tray with glasses of champagne on it.

She was a necron, one of the infamous warriors of the C’tan, but at the moment, she was ‘in’ her civilian body, rather less powerful, but more flexible, designed to emulate with a layer of flesh, the organic forms of necrontyr. She took a glass of the champagne – which the avatar insisted on pronouncing phonetically – from the tray, and thanked the servant with a nod. He smiled and put the tray under his arm.

“Kiff!” the fat man said, “make yourself scarce!”

“So, what’s the mission then?” Erisath asked.

“A very sexy mission!” he said.

Erisath held up a blue skinned hand to her face and covered her eyes, peeping out between her middle fingers. “Please!” she sighed.

The avatar stopped, and the lieutenant leaned over to her. “you think he’s ugly and lascivious, wait until you see where you’re going…”

She cringed, “Where?”

The man stood, “Kiff! The holoprojector!” he said, and his alien minion sighed again, fishing a small lens like object out of his pocket and placing it on the table.

A massive holographic globe appeared over the table, rotating slowly. A planetary ecumenopolis, not unlike Naogeddon had been in her time, but with none of the beauty and order visible from space, instead, only smog and chaotic buildings covered the world. A sign beneath it flashed, ‘Nar Shaddaa.’ A metallic voice said ‘This is Nar Shaddaa!’

“This is Nar Shaddaa!” the man proclaimed, and Erisath couldn’t help but giggle.

“A recently discovered hole of smugglers, pirates, zwilnicks,” a term for drug sellers, the bad kind of drug sellers, the kind that sold lethal drugs to kids for extortionate prices, it was one of Erisavenus’ little phrases that had caught on in Venturers jargon, “and most repellent of all, slavers…”

“So, we’re on our way to kick ass then?”

“I’m afraid not,” Kiff said, “can’t get the firepower.”

“Then what’s the mission?”

“We want you to go buying…”

The Erisavenus cruised on, slowly edging its way across the galaxy.
The Humankind Abh
29-06-2006, 03:05
The message that the Abh ship received was somewhat humerous to the crew aboard especially to the Mord-sith. Though her sense of humer was darker than most and instead of a smile, Cara typically scorned. "My Lord, I believe you should read this."

Richard waved his hand and a holographic screen flashed to life replaying the message for him. A brow raised over his right eye as he finished the message. "Well at least she's polite when asking for our money. We've been in the system less than five minutes and they are already asking for payment."

The blond haired blue eyed Mord-sith turned her head. "Should we follow the coordinants they have finished transmitting?"

A sinlge hand that had supported his head, fell to the armrest as he sat up straighter. "Yes and open a communication link with them. Visual and audio."

Cara barked out orders to the crew to follow their Lord's command. The ship filed into the correct path that had just been given. As they were gliding along, the transmission went through sending a message of a tall dark man with a raptor gaze sitting on a marble throne with a sword beside him. To his right stood a tall woman with formfitting red leather and a single long blond braid and blue eyes.

"Nal Hutta Orbital Command, this is Lord Rahl of the Abh Empire. I and my crew thank you for your hospitality, however we have not come to enjoy the sights that you may offer us. Instead, I have come to speak with the local warlord in the area to discuss possible profitable relations. I am requesting an audience with whoever is in charge of this territory."
HuttSpace
29-06-2006, 03:17
The young Twi'lek woman was confused for a moment. It was a rare occassion that a warship entered the Y'toub system. It took several minutes and a trip up the chain of command, but finally the Abh received their reply. A somewhat spiced-up Rodian appeared on the other end of the holo-comm.

"Warlord? Hehehehe. There are no warlords on Nal Hutta. Perhaps you wish to speak to one of the kajidic heads, hey? There are many here. Hehehehe. Perhaps to Gorga you should speak? He's my boss... hehehehehehe. Yes, I'll send you to Gorga. He'll be glad to buy your wares. Maybe promote Fral he will, hehehehehe! Yes, go to Gorga! Go now!"

The Rodian then stood up and walked shakily away, collapsing halfway out of view in a spice-induced pass out. The young Twi'lek came back into view, looking somewhat embarassed. "Uh, I'll transmit the coordinates for Gorga's audience chambers on Nar Shaddaa and comm ahead that he should expect you. Unfortunately your ship will not be able to land, shall I provide a shuttle?"
The Humankind Abh
29-06-2006, 03:30
Richard looked down in discuss at the collapsed figure off to the side. The woman was more to his liking being more in control of herself. He half heartedly smiled at her. "No thank you. We have our own transportation for such occasions. Inform your Gorga that we look forward to meeting him."

The large vessel altered its course to fit the new set of coordinants while a transport was prepared in the hangar of the ship.
The Mesa System
29-06-2006, 03:55
Albert Hess finished reading the letter that Avery had printed out for him, delicately folded it and placed it in his pocket.

"I trust that you've already done our travel arrangements for tomorrow?"

"Yes, Mr. Hess, and the gifts."

"Excellent, here, have a glass of champage with me."

A serving girl promptly appeared with a silver tray, delicately handing both men a crystal goblet of champagne.

The two strolled across the main room of the rather large suite that Hess had rented with the lodging funds supplied by their employer, moving to stand in front of a full floor to ceiling transparisteel window offering a breathtaking view out onto the cityscape and the dizzying depth of the steel canyon below them.

"Do you think this will work sir?"

"Hopefully. The Hutts can be unpredictable. They would rarely pass up a chance to make money and lord over what they see as inferior species, but they also like to do it as cheap as possible. Only tomorrow will tell."

+++

The next day

Avery had done a fine job securing transportation. The aircar that the yacht had transported in the cargo bay, while fine for trips to safer areas, would simply not do when voyaging into the heart of a crime lord's lair, particularly when said crime lord was also at war for control of the rest of the moon; and so Avery had procured two repulsorlift transports, each one armored enough to withstand blaster fire, and with gunslots for bodyguards inside to return fire from. Hopefully it wouldn't be needed, but any Mesan, particularly an Alpha Plus, wouldn't take unnecessary chances with his safety.

The two transports kept to the upper reaches of the city until they reached the Refugee District, and then rapidly descended into the urban canyon and forest of skyscrapers.

They quickly arrived at Gorga Vosadii's headquarters, Hess' bodyguards spilling out of the vehicles first and taking up positions, followed by the gifts, and then Hess himself. The soldiers formed a square with the gifts and Hess in the center, marching quickly to the gate, ever vigilant against threats.

The squad's sergeant quickly stepped up the gate and pounded on it with his fist twice to let them know they were there.
HuttSpace
29-06-2006, 05:55
OOC: Because of his having arrived first in this thread, I'll give precedence to Mesa. I'll give him an audience first, then Abh.

IC:

Gorga the Hutt's Audience Chambers

At the sound of the knocking a small holocam above the door turned it's attention on the visitors. After scanning them for several seconds, the double blastdoors of the audience chamber opened to allow the emissaries inside.

The Mesans were met by a pair of Weequay, several Nimbans and a quartet of Gamorreans. After further identity checks, the men and their bodyguards were led down a brightly lit corridor toward the actual audience chamber. Undecorated and completely uniform, the corridor served two purposes. The first was to adjust any intruders vision to bright light and the second was to funnel intruders into a single corridor with no cover where they could be contained and destroyed. As they neared the Kuati silk curtain seperating the corridor and the audience chamber, the emissaries were greeted by the sounds of a Bith band indentured to Gorga as well as the sounds of a party.

Inside, the light dimmed to almost completely dark. This served to both disorient intruders coming from the bright corridor and to give them a false sense of stealth - Hutts could see into the ultraviolet range and so visible light or the lack thereof presented no problems for them. At the far end of the chamber say Gorga upon a raised dais, accentuating his already massive superiority complex. Infront of him and around the chamber were various thugs, mercenaries, bounty hunters and other such beings viewed as the scum of the galaxy. Some talked or flirted with the beautiful exotic dancing girls and servers. The rest either drank down various alcoholic drinks or eyed the others warily.

Upon entry to the audience chamber they were presented before Gorga by his majordomo and instructed to state their business.
The Ctan
29-06-2006, 11:35
Zapp Brannigan stepped up to the hologram and waved a hand through it, resulting in it changing to show a diagram of a long ‘organic’ compound. Erisath took a look at it, and frowned; like all necrons, she could parse complicated scientific data with the speed of a computer. It was a drug, one that should work on humans and quite a few metahumans – it’d do nothing to necrontyr, but then, they had long ago incorporated their own drug producing glands into their bodies, and could quickly neutralise most everything - The same with most citizens of the necrontyr empire, though usually that was through discrete cybernetics.

It was, for the most part like a number of hallucinogens she’d seen before, but not quite the same. “I call it Zap!” he proclaimed.

Erisath sighed, “Go on…” she said.

“It’s formulated to be very unaddictive,” the tone of the voice changed a bit, the massive mind of the ship speaking, rather than its quasi-independent avatar, “Though I can’t manage to keep it from addicting anyone, after all, there’s people addicted to damn boot polish out there. But anyway, we cut it with Ibogaine, and half a dozen other addiction-treating but rather effective drugs, and after trying it, it should eventually combat the need for drugs from our competitors. The whole mix is formatted to have no adverse physiological effects, hell, it actually boosts brain function a touch. I’ve heard this ‘glitterstimm spice’ stuff is fairly strong though, be sure and get me some for analysis.”

“Can do,” Erisath said, “So, what’s the idea here then. We sell this souped up addiction treatment as a drug, making a huge profit, which we use to buy up slaves?”

“You got the straight dope sister,” the ship said, “We sell it to one of their cartels, in exchange for a modest slice of their profits, with which you buy up slaves. Don’t make it obvious,” he frowned, “if you’re pushed, insinuate that slaves are used in making and testing it. They’ll believe that…”

“There’s just one problem with your plan…” she declared at last, “I’m a necron… We’re not exactly good for deniability. A drug lord reads up on us, and the operation goes down the drain faster than a stoat up a drainpipe…”

“Oh don’t worry,” Zapp said, smiling, “I’ve already thought of that…”

She didn’t like the look in his eye one bit.
Allanea
29-06-2006, 12:57
Space. The Final Frontier. These are the Voyages of the starship West Virginia.

The small red starship began to turn in the void, the turning arc huge and ominous if one could somehow observe it – a red craft, only 30 meters long, but turning in an arc of a thousand kilometers in diameter.

"Lieutenant Abullah Smith, please explain the mission to the crew."

The Lieutenant turned towards the other four crew members, and spoke calmly and cogently, his speech with only a faint Khristian accent.

"This is simple. Ladies and gentlemen, this is a joint operation with the…" – he named an obscure department. – "Most of the details of the Department's mission are classified – even we can't know it. In other words, it's Top Secret, Eyes Only. The only part of it we're allowed to know is that we need to deliver this man here, Mr. Frederick Crowley, to a certain location."

Crowley was not a person who inspired sympathy. He was fat, his skin glistening with the sweat of moving the 220-pound hulk of a body. He sported an unkempt moustache. His chin was badly shaven. And to top it all off, he was chewing tobacco. And if there's one thing Hughie pilots hate, it's people who chew tobacco inside the cramped confines of their starships.

"And we need to take him to Nar Shaddaa."

There was a gasp of disgust.

Mind, if the sailors would know Crowley was going to Nar Shaddaa to buy slaves, they would be much more disgusted.
The Humankind Abh
29-06-2006, 13:22
Lord Rahl's ship had gone as far as it could. Now it was time to take a shuttle the rest of the way. Cara had spent about five minutes prepping the ship when Richard and General Meiffert finally arrived. The two men boarded the aircraft and departed for their newest destination.

The ship and her crew were left in the capable hands of Mord-sith Rikka while the three were away. Most members were allowed to stand down from their posts and get some rest while others maintaned thier positions of vigilence.
The Ctan
29-06-2006, 18:02
A hologram of a tall alien with long flopping ears and an ugly snout appeared. A gungan.

“Absolutely not,” Erisath said.

“Oh, please!” implored Zapp, “It’d be so hilarious.”

“I am not letting you turn me into one of… those.”

The hologram disappeared and was replaced by another, a green skinned rodian, with the bizarre hair that typified that race.

“No.”

The hologram changed again, this time showing a hutt.

“Absolutely not!” she snapped.

“You think that’s bad,” Kiff said, “wait until you get there. That species runs this world.”

“Oh hell. You expect me to ingratiate myself with that? It looks like a giant slug.”

“Correction!” Zapp said, “It is a giant slug.”

Erisath sighed, “Just give me a human…”

A large human male appeared.

“A man?”

“CSD indicates sexism!” Zapp said, “You get to become male. The superior sex! Why’s it superior, Kiff?”

Kiff shuddered, “because it has you in it, sir.”

“That’s right!”

Erisath sighed, rocking back on her feet.

“Right, human. Now what… You make one up for me?”

“not quite. We already have one: A meat puppet grown with computronium in its skull instead of a brain, A bit better than a stock human in all respects, but still no match for me!”

“Right, so, how’m I going to maintain proximity?”

The hologram changed again.

“Oh no…” she whispered.

---

“I hate you.”

“Oh come, it’s not that bad.”

“I hate you,” Erisath repeated, as she flexed the 3PO unit’s arms, “Look at this, these things can barely move!”

“Just use the other one,” Brannigan said, and the ‘droid shugged. The broad, handsome black man, with long dreadlocks, took up the gesture, and through that form, Erisath smacked Zapp over the head.

“Ow!” Zapp yelped, and cringed, “that really hurt!”

“And what’s with this?” Erisath demanded, “I’m practically a walking cliché!”

“I couldn’t resist,” Zapp said, “I got it from old United States laws banning cocaine, the arguments in favour were about ‘Superhuman Negro Cocaine Fiends.’”

“So… You’ve turned me into the most primitive toaster ever devised, and a cliché from the nineteenth century. JOY!”

“Right!” Zapp said, “let’s get you dressed and armed.”

---

“Isn’t it amazing,” Erisath said, looking at the various leather coats on offer, held by the resentful Kiff, “that millennia in space, and most peoples can’t think of anything better to wear than the treated skin of a cow… That one…” she said.

“Tolerable work Kiff!” Zapp proclaimed as the diminutive alien held out the jacket, and Erisath shrugged it on. “Now, Go away. We have human things to do!”

“What now?” Erisath asked.

“Now I give you an appropriate gun. Straight out of my museum of stupid, a Huntaerian ‘Ressurection Pistol!’ He passed ‘her’ the gun.

“Range, two hundred meters…” Zapp said.

“You’re kidding.”

“Nope.”

“I hate you all the more.”

“Just wait until you see what you’re going to be flying…”

---

“Well…” Erisath said, “It’s… stout.”

The three winged ‘Imperial’ Sentinel landing craft sat innocently on the floor of the Erisavenus’ landing bay, unaware of how it was about to be treated.

“But…” Erisath added, “It’s hardly the kind of ship I expect smugglers to be in. It looks… new.”

“A fine point…” Zapp said, stroking his chin and nodding. He clicked his fingers, “Ahah, I have it!” he said.

“Oh?”

A loud bang ran out, and one of the wings buckled. Another dozen blows, as if the ship was having a thunder hammer taken to it, followed, bending and buckling the plates in its hull. “Anyway, I’ve displaced your Zap aboard,” Zapp said, “and you’re ready to go.”

“You know…” Erisath said, “If I weren’t a necron, and thus unkillable, I’d be shooting myself in the leg right now to get out of this…”

“Precisely why I chose you, M’dear,” the ship said, using its own infelction, rather than Zapp’s.
HuttSpace
29-06-2006, 18:57
OOC: Sephiroth = Ignored. That was just pathetic. If you come back with something half decent and with punctuation I may consider un-ignoring you.

Nar Shaddaa, Refugee District Level 1

The refugee district. The darkest, smelliest, dirtiest sector of Nar Shaddaa. Home to all the unwanted riff-raff of the galaxy and all those who take advantage of the beaten down. One of several of Gorga's audience chambers was located here on the second level. He just happened to be occupying this one when the Abh decided to pay a visit.

Lord Rahl's shuttle was assigned to a landing pad that looked barely functional. There was no dock crew, no mechanics, just an empty space and a walkway leading into the refugee district proper. As the Abh left their ship they were met by a sly-looking Toydarian. The little creature flew up to the three men as they exited the shuttle and began berating them.

"Hey, you can't-a land here! This is a private slip! Nobody-a lands here except my clients, hey!" The angry little Toydarian stopped and eyed the three men and their ship for a few seconds then smiled. "Tell-a you what, huh, I let you rent my slip hey. You give-a me 500 credits and you stay, huh. Is a good deal, I swear!"
The Mesa System
29-06-2006, 23:44
Hess managed to conceal his disgust at the various low-life criminals around him, but he'd spent most of his career perfecting the art of keeping what he was thinking off of his facial expressions.

He moved to stand a polite distance from Gorga's dais and then gave a respectful half-bow. "I would like to thank you for agreeing to see us on such short notice. I represent the Mesan Corporate Conglomerate, in this case, to hopefully establish us as a supplier of slaves, servants, and guards for you. Of course, it would hardly be respectful of me to visit your domain without bringing a token of respect...." He turned and motioned to the guards, who hustled the gifts forward and removing their cloaks, revealing four young and extremely beautiful women, scantily clad in harem clothing, with delicate gold collars securely fastened around their graceful necks. Golden blonde hair flowed down to their upper back, and their ears were tipped with points rather than being round like a normal human's. The four were also completely identical to each other in appearance.

"These four are gifts to you. One of the primary exports of Mesa is slaves and other servants. Long ago our society gave up biological reproduction in favor of a more industrialized process. Everyone is born in facilities known as hatcheries, and they are tinkered with while still in the 'womb' to have characteristics of the caste to which they are assigned. I myself am an Alpha Plus," Hess stated proudly, "for the lower castes, we make use of what is called the Bokanovsky Process, which takes an egg and stimulates it to divide, and then each of those eggs to divide again, and so on. Thus, we can create up to 64 identical individuals."

Hess motioned one of the girls to him and gently turned her around to her back faced Gorga, revealing a small barcode tatooed on her back just beneath her left shoulder.

"Our critics call them assembly line slaves, but we take it as a compliment. Nature is sloppy, full of errors, our products are above nature's sloppiness. These girls for instance, are almost baseline human, with no genetic defects or hereditary complications. Now, I said 'almost baseline' because we mixed a bit of elven traits in with their own, the traits needed to extend their natural lifespan by approximately 15-20%, and thus enabling them to keep their youth longer, and allowing them to age more gracefully. Of course, there are outside indicators of their heritage," Hess traced a finger along her ear as he spoke, "But a touch of exoticness is rather nice."

"I'll get to the point. With our facilities and methods, including flash learning, conditioning, and age accelerators, we can essentially create servants, slaves, or guards to your specific desires and needs. The possibilities for use are nearly endless, pleasure, menial tasks, protection, even spying. Imagine sneaking in a duplicate of an enemy's most trusted bodyguard into striking range of them, with conditioning to attack them as soon as they have a high chance of success, just give us a sample of their DNA and we can do it."

"Of course, there is a downside, I'll be upfront with you about it. Quality is expensive, and I know you're a thrifty individual, but allowing us to supply you with high quality slaves, which you could then go on to sell to others, will have its advantages. For instance, it cuts out the middle-man, they'd be going straight from our conditioning centers to your cargo pens, not relying on unreliable henchmen to raid isolated settlements for slaves of questionable quality and potentially low numbers."

Hess moved behind the slave he'd chosen as an example, running one hand down her side and lifting her chin with his other so her face pointed toward her new owner, and hovering his chin over her shoulder. "So, what do you think?"
The Humankind Abh
30-06-2006, 02:22
The thin leather rod that hung by a golden chain around her waist, was in her grasp within an instance. Richard's golden cape billowed up behind him as he whirled around to stop the dangerous Mord-sith from bringing the flying creature to the floor.

General Meiffert also moved to calm the woman down. His leather armour creaked as he wrapped two massive arms around her waist.

After seeing that Cara was now secured in her lover's arms, Richard turned his gaze to the fluttering Toydarian. "This is where I ship was sent to land by Orbital Command. If a fee is required, I suggest you take it up with them."
HuttSpace
30-06-2006, 02:41
Gorga's Audience Chamber

The Hutt crimelord eyed the slaves lustfully, licking his massive grotesque lips. The slave girls were at least as beautiful as his best Twi'lek dancers and all the more obedient. "Your gift is acceptible to me. These slaves will be put to good use..."

Gorga laughed almost maniacally then continued. "Your offer is also acceptible to me. Your clones will serve me well I'm sure. However, you have not yet named a price... No offer is so good as to make me forget about the price or turn it down if the price is too high..."

Refugee District Dock

The Toydarian looked up at the three Abh angrily. "They did, did they? Sent-a you to land on my pad without paying-a me, huh? I don't think you under-a-stand Nar Shaddaa. You a-land here, you pay. You pay-a me, huh. 500 credits or I'll-a scrap that junkpile you call a ship. Payment up front..."

The Toydarian smiled greedily at the Abh and extended a hand for the credits.
The Humankind Abh
30-06-2006, 03:13
Richard looked over to General Meiffert and nodded his head slightly who in turn released the volatile woman. Cara flipped her long blond braid back over her shoulders and looked at the fluttering Toydarian with his hand outstretched.

Her hard heels clicked as she closed the distance to him. A flick of her wrist had the agiel back in her hands which was quickly jammed down into the Toydarian's open palm. The agiel could unleash a shocking burst of energy. It is the weapon of choice for all Mord-siths having various uses for torture. It could be dragged across skin, creating blood bubbles or easily tearing open skin. A direct hit would unleash a devestating amount of energy and just holding the agiel was painful for anyone even the Mord-sith.
Mini Miehm
30-06-2006, 03:23
*teh snips*

OOC: And here comes Manticore... Being our usual interstellar busybody genetic slave trading smiting selves. And yes, Honor may appear to smite you herself eventually. Until then, just watch out for the Kitty.

IC:

Piracy and other crimes had been on the rise recently. The solution? Throw more ships at it. The first choice? Hexapuma. A single heavy cruiser, larger than any comparably classed ship previously built, the Saganami-C was a marvel of power and luxury, designed to host an admiral as well as lead a squadron into battle, it now carried an Admiral to do just that.

Arrayed in space around the Hexapuma were her squadron mates, another pair of Heavy Cruisers, a quartet of Light Cruisers, and a round dozen Destroyers. That was the tiny fleet that had been assigned to deal with the current rise in unpleasantries in the area. And already business was booming. Currently Hexapuma and another CA were in pursuit ofa pair of vessels suspected of being pirates. Tagged as Mesans, the Admiral was already suspicious. There was no way to call for reinforcements, but with 2 Saganami Cruisers, he should be able to hold his own against whatever the opponents happened to be.

"Contact them, see if they'll heave to for examination."

"Aye Sir, recording."

"This is Admiral Cole of the Manticoran Alliance, your vessels have violated our space. Heave to and prepare for our boarding parties and an inspection. You have 5 minutes, upon reciept of this message, to begin decelerating. If you do not comply I will disable your vessels as pirates, and your crews will be liable to the sentence that entails."

"On the chip sir."

"Transmit it then. Have tactical get a firing solution on both vessels, and ready the Marines. Get at least one squad into armor on eachship, I want to be sure we get these bastards."

"Aye sir, transmitting now. Communications link established, transmitting your orders now. Pinnaces are ready to launch at your command sir."

"All we can do now is wait..."
The Mesa System
30-06-2006, 07:50
Gorga's Audience Chamber

Hess smiled, this was a good direction for the deal. "One thousand credits for laborers or menial servants, four thousand credits for entertainment, and any custom jobs would be priced according to what's needed. Is this acceptable?"

+++

"Contacts!"

The officer of the watch immediately summoned Commander Wittman to the bridge as the sensor officer sang out the bearings and velocities of the new and unexpected contacts.

Commander Wittman arrived in two minutes, quickly taking his seat, and not even pausing before issuing orders. "Designate them all at Bogeys immediately, put us between them and Venture."

Figures, just our luck that we get jumped by pirates while recharging.

"Time till both of our ships' generators finish cycling?"

"Our's in two minutes, Venture's in four."

"Goddamn civilian-grade crap."

"We're receiving a transmission."

"Route it to my headset."

Wittman sat and glowered at his command staff as he listened to the message.

"This is Commander Wittman of the Mesan Space Navy warship Intrepid. You are committing an act of piracy in international space, you are hereby instructed to power down your weapons, cut your accel, and prepare for boarding, immediately. You will be taken into custody and turned over to the authorities at Nal Hutta."

"Weapons are online sir, gravimetric screens at full capacity."

"Good, order Venture to increase to maximum acceleration, match our's with her's."
Allanea
30-06-2006, 08:59
"Sir, we are on approach to the system."

"Very well." - said Captain Earl McCoy, and passed the microphone to Crowley. “C'mon, mister. You do the funny adverts. I got me a sore throat, anyway.”

Crowley shrugged, and spoke into the mike.

Good day, friends and colleagues. I am Frederick Crowley, from Allanea. I'm here to make deals, and probably buy some... stuff. I would like to be allowed to dock this small vessel, if you allow me. As you see, it is of little menace to you, and will depart once I land.

The crewmen grimaced horribly at this – they already began having suspicions. But they did not say anything. Crowley was from the Agency, they thought, and knew what he was doing. And if he was doing something wrong, well, in half an hour they'd be light years away, filing a report to Navy HQ – and then he dare not return to Allanea and blacken her soil with his footsteps.

They of course were not yet aware of the full evil extent of Crowley's plan.
The Ctan
30-06-2006, 15:17
[Transponder code DOOP-C-92983]

That was how the ship announced itself, nothing special, nothing unusual, and nothing intelligible. The DOOP was a nation that didn’t exist, except for a small asteroid claimed for tax purposes, and would generally be assumed by most people to exist somewhere on the Earth.

Erisath banked it towards the grime-encrusted ball of dirty metal that was the Smuggler’s Moon and frowned. The laden troop transport shuddered and jolted as it manoeuvred, and he could feel the battered ship sent jolts through his legs.

“I can’t believe anyone would use this thing willingly,” he said, kicking the vehicle’s dash and thumbing the communication’s system, “This is Civillian Shuttle… Runner,” he frowned… “requesting landing clearance for an audience with the major domo of Gorga the Hutt. Here on business. The name’s John Accrington.”

OOC: Mesa, I’m assuming this is based loosely on the genetic slavery of the honorverse books. Alas, I’ve not gotten that far into them to know. Do these genetic slaves desire freedom, or are they conditioned to enjoy their status? I suspect I would like to investigate your operations further IC.
HuttSpace
30-06-2006, 16:34
Refugee District Docking Pad

The Toydarian recoiled in pain, a wide-eyed expression of fear and disbelief on his face. Once out of reach of the weapon, however, he recovered some composure and looked the three over again. Glancing toward their ship he said "Tell-a you what, you look like good folks, how-abouts I give you the pad for 50 credits, huh? Very good deal. It's-a almost a steal, huh!"

Audience Chambers

Gorga eyed Hess suspiciously, casting a glance around the room. This deal seemed too good to be true and when things seemed that way they usually were. He leaned forward, as best a Hutt can, and narrowed his eyes. "You're hiding something from me, boy. Something you don't want me to know. You're trying to swindle me. Not smart, I don't like being swindled. Tell me everything if you want to see the light of day again, boy..."

Around the room the party suddenly came to a stop and dead silence embraced the meeting. The hands of mercenaries and thugs instinctively went for weapons and all eyes were on Hess and the Mesans.

Y'toub System, Space

The Allanean vessel receive a reply from a scruffy-looking human male.

Unidentified vessel piloted by Frederick Crowley, you have been cleared to land on Nar Shaddaa. Your assigned berth is landing pad No. 223387, Nar Shaddaa Red District. I am uploading your assigned approach vector now, do not stray from it. That is all

A half-second later the channel went dead and the Allanean vessel was left to follow it's course to the ground.

The C'tan vessel received it's reply from the same female Twi'lek that greeted the Abh. Still visible in the background was the passed-out Rodian supervisor.

Acknowledged Racer, you have been cleared to land. His eminency is currently busy and not accepting any more audiences today. We will schedule you for tomorrow, in the meantime you can stay in one of the many hostels and hotels on Nar Shaddaa. Your assigned berth - No. 223387, Nar Shaddaa Red District (OOC: Yes, it's the same as the Allanean one. I did that on purpose.). I'm uploading an approach vector and list of nearby hotels for you. Have a nice day.

With that the channel was closed.
Allanea
30-06-2006, 17:13
The West Virginia landed with almost now sound, except when the entrance hatch threw itself open and Crowley exited. He appeared lightly armed, wearing only a pair of .600 H&H pistols (which he would entrust to a guard only after some major arguing and prodding), and obviously looking unwell, sweat pouring down his face in copious quantities. He observed the Virginia take off and then proceeded to the hotel, where he would order three glasses of cold beer and patiently – well, as patiently as he could – wait for his audience.

He wasn't at all well. In fact he was feeling heavier then usual – the reader will pardon us the bad pun – much heavier then usual.

And so perhaps this was the reason that the Allanean agent was still near the landing pad as the Racer landed. Happily (for him) he did not know who it belonged to.
The Ctan
30-06-2006, 19:48
The battered jalopy that was the hastily and ironically named Racer settled down on the landing pad with the pneumatic hiss of landing legs taking the strain of its weight. The black man strode down the ramp with a languid ‘oozing’ movement that seemed appropriate for his role. The ‘droid, motors whirring, followed, carrying a small box. A double tap of the heel of its foot activated a string of small nail-bombs lining the edges of the ship’s ramp hatch, and the ramp hissed back up, closing like the maw of a dragon. Hand on the butt of his gun, ‘John’ looked at the waddling sweating fat man ahead of him. “Allanean!” he shouted, for the Allanean taste – or rather, lack thereof – in starship decoration was quite unforgettable…
Mini Miehm
30-06-2006, 20:58
"Contacts!"

The officer of the watch immediately summoned Commander Wittman to the bridge as the sensor officer sang out the bearings and velocities of the new and unexpected contacts.

Commander Wittman arrived in two minutes, quickly taking his seat, and not even pausing before issuing orders. "Designate them all at Bogeys immediately, put us between them and Venture."

Figures, just our luck that we get jumped by pirates while recharging.

"Time till both of our ships' generators finish cycling?"

"Our's in two minutes, Venture's in four."

"Goddamn civilian-grade crap."

"We're receiving a transmission."

"Route it to my headset."

Wittman sat and glowered at his command staff as he listened to the message.

"This is Commander Wittman of the Mesan Space Navy warship Intrepid. You are committing an act of piracy in international space, you are hereby instructed to power down your weapons, cut your accel, and prepare for boarding, immediately. You will be taken into custody and turned over to the authorities at Nal Hutta."

"Weapons are online sir, gravimetric screens at full capacity."

"Good, order Venture to increase to maximum acceleration, match our's with her's."

OOC: Do you have MSN? If so, contact me at Pmmiehm@hotmail.com. This could be interesting. And I'm honestly not sure if these are in addition to the ships I mentioned, or they are the ships I mentioned.

IC:

"Sir th..."

"I see it. Go to maximum military power, and bring all systems on line. Sound general quarters."

"Aye sir."

"Open a channel again. I'll address this supposed captain. If they run, prepare to follow them into Hyper."

"Aye sir, Cecile acknowledges. Ready to record transmission."

"Captain, you are not in international space, whatever your charts may tell you. You have violated Alliance space, and you will heave to or be disabled. If you attempt to flee we will pursue and overtake you. If we are forced to pursue you into hyperspace, your ships will be fired into and destroyed. Your time limit has decreased to just 3 minutes remaining. If you do not begin decelerating by then you will be fired upon."

"Clean recording sir."

"Then send it. Whatever these fools are, they need new charts. If they really are Mesan warships, they must be even stupider than I might have believed possible to oppose a pair of Saganami Cruisers, especially when one is a Saganami C. I'd be amazed if they didn't think this was a Battlecruiser."

Targetting radars came online, locking up the two accelerating vessels. If they didn't cut their accel pretty soon they'd simply be destroyed or crippled by the unleashed power of these leviathanesque vessels. General Quarters alarms blared, shattering the silence onboard, and bringing every member of the crews to their battlestations. Loading a single thermonuclear warhead into the axial fore torpedo tube, they prepared to make their demonstration in the most brilliant manner possible. The pot and starboard tubes were loaded with standard warheads, standoff range lasers, capable of dealing death from extreme ranges without endangering the parent vessel.

OOC: I really would like to ensure we're working off the same assumptions here... I have AIM, OPwhiteguy, if you don't have MSN.
The Mesa System
30-06-2006, 21:59
[Transponder code DOOP-C-92983]

OOC: Mesa, I’m assuming this is based loosely on the genetic slavery of the honorverse books. Alas, I’ve not gotten that far into them to know. Do these genetic slaves desire freedom, or are they conditioned to enjoy their status? I suspect I would like to investigate your operations further IC.

OOC: Very loosely. I essentially just took Brave New World, made it capitalist and militaristic, and then combined it with Mesa's name and exports. And yes, they're conditioned to enjoy or at least accept their status, just like the citizens themselves.

+++

Hess' bodyguards began to go for their weapons, but he quickly waved for them not to, they unhappily followed his command, but remained tense and suspicious.

"I must have said something wrong. Is there a problem with the price? I'm sorry, I'm not intimately familiar with your monetary system, let me recalculate it...." He pulled out a pocket calculator, activated its currency conversion programming, and began punching in figures. "Alright, that comes to...four thousand credits for menial servants and laborers, and sixteen thousand for entertainment. My that was suspiciously cheap. How silly of me. " He glanced up at Gorga quizzicly.

+++

Wittman smiled. Three minutes? Good, we'll only have to hold out for a single minute after that and then we're free.

"Manticoran vessel, I repeat that we are in international space, and in the unlikely event that we aren't, it is a mistake that will soon be rectified. My orders are to protect my charge at all costs, any attempt to fire upon either my ship or it will be regarded as an act of piracy and treated as such."
Mini Miehm
30-06-2006, 22:14
+++

Wittman smiled. Three minutes? Good, we'll only have to hold out for a single minute after that and then we're free.

"Manticoran vessel, I repeat that we are in international space, and in the unlikely event that we aren't, it is a mistake that will soon be rectified. My orders are to protect my charge at all costs, any attempt to fire upon either my ship or it will be regarded as an act of piracy and treated as such."

"What kind of game is this fool playing? Prepare another transmission."

"Aye Admiral. Recording."

"You are not in international space. Your vessel has violated our borders by nearly a full light year, you will heave to immediately so that we may inspect your vessels. So long as you are not committing any illegal activity you will be allowed to continue on your way. If you resist we have the capability to cripple both of your vessels, and then board. Resistance will be construed as a confession of guilt, and the penalties that go with such a confession will be accepted by you and your crews."

What is he trying to hide? Something isn't right... There is no way these are legitemate vessels, but what are they carrying... No slaver would be stupid enough to violate our territory so flagrantly, would they?

"Transmit it."

"Aye sir, transmission sent."

"Sir, we're pulling a steady 650 gravities, overtake velocity of nearly 1 kps squared. Estimated time to missile range is 40 seconds. They have only 30 seconds remaining, and they have yet to begin decelerating. Missiles are primed and ready for firing. Warning shot is firing now."

A single missile blasted free of the Hexapuma's fore axial launcher, on a parallel course with the suspected pirates. It would run its course and detonate well out of range to cause any dsamage, but it would show that the ships were serious.
The Mesa System
30-06-2006, 22:31
"Missile launch!"

"Just one? It's a warning shot then."

Wittman was proved correct as the missile detonated outside of its engagement range.

"Alright, new plan, begin gradually decelerating, we'll act like they intimidated us into cooperation."

Wittman activated his headset's communications link again.

"Fine, Manticoran vessel, we are decelerating as per your orders and will prepare to receive boarding parties. Wittman out."
Mini Miehm
30-06-2006, 23:02
"Missile launch!"

"Just one? It's a warning shot then."

Wittman was proved correct as the missile detonated outside of its engagement range.

"Alright, new plan, begin gradually decelerating, we'll act like they intimidated us into cooperation."

Wittman activated his headset's communications link again.

"Fine, Manticoran vessel, we are decelerating as per your orders and will prepare to receive boarding parties. Wittman out."

"It's all up to the Captain now."

On the Bridge of Hexapuma:

"Sir, they're finally complying."

"I can see that. Launch the pinnaces, target their FTL systems with the spinal grasers, and fire if they seem to be powering up."

"Aye sir, grasers are prepared to fire upon any energy buildup. Pinnaces are away, Armor Squads leading."

12 armed pinnaces moved in the vouid between trhe vessels. The first 4 were armored squads, one tasked to the merchant, and the other 3 to see about the opposing warship. Only 3 of the entire 12 were tasked to the freighter. It was unlikely to have any marines onboard, and simply brandishing fully armed powered armor marines ought to be enough to cow them into compliance. And with nearly a full company of marines onboard the Cruiser, plus the guns of the pinnaces trained towards drives and gun empolacements, there would have to be a truly stupid or truly bold commander to attempt an escape.
HuttSpace
01-07-2006, 00:56
Gorga's Audience Chamber

Silence permeated the room and the tension began to mount as Gorga stared down at the human in front of him. After several seconds Gorga spoke again. "I understand your prices, boy. What I fail to understand is why you have come here to offer me these slaves. Obviously not out of the goodness of your heart. Don't think me stupid, boy, I've lived long enough to know when someone is hiding something. YOU are hiding what you want in return for your "service". This is what you will tell me. Now."

Y'Toub System

The developing conflict in the space over Nal Hutta had caught the attention of the "authorities", or rather the Besadii kajidic in near control of Orbital Command. As the vessels began to clash they were both hailed by a youngish Hutt, barely 120 years old.

Conflicting vessels, your conflict is intruding upon the peace of the Y'toub System, domain of the Hutts. You will stand down or take your conflict away from Glorious Jewel. Failure to comply will result in the seizure of your vessels and any assets within. You have been warned.
Mini Miehm
01-07-2006, 01:22
Gorga's Audience Chamber

Silence permeated the room and the tension began to mount as Gorga stared down at the human in front of him. After several seconds Gorga spoke again. "I understand your prices, boy. What I fail to understand is why you have come here to offer me these slaves. Obviously not out of the goodness of your heart. Don't think me stupid, boy, I've lived long enough to know when someone is hiding something. YOU are hiding what you want in return for your "service". This is what you will tell me. Now."

Y'Toub System

The developing conflict in the space over Nal Hutta had caught the attention of the "authorities", or rather the Besadii kajidic in near control of Orbital Command. As the vessels began to clash they were both hailed by a youngish Hutt, barely 120 years old.

OOC: HS, we aren't in Y'Toub. We're $elsewhere, somewhere in my territory. Unless you aren't addressing us... I planned to have him lead me there.
Allanea
01-07-2006, 01:46
The Allanean blinked as he turned towards the strange pair, instinctively grasping at his heart "Umm... hi. Don't creep up on me like this, okay? You scared me."

But of course, in fact hte Allanean was scared by something different.
HuttSpace
01-07-2006, 01:49
OOC: I was under the impression that you were attacking the ship escorting Mesa's dignitary to Nar Shaddaa. If this is so, you are in the Y'toub system. If not, disregard that post.
Mini Miehm
01-07-2006, 02:07
OOC: I was under the impression that you were attacking the ship escorting Mesa's dignitary to Nar Shaddaa. If this is so, you are in the Y'toub system. If not, disregard that post.

OOC: My intent was to accost $generic_slave_trader and get some idea of the actions IN Y'Toub, but that's about it. If hedecided that we're there, we're there. In which case I just claimed your home system, several times...
The Mesa System
02-07-2006, 09:25
OOC: Haha, you had me confused it was about the prices, which actually were too cheap.

+++

Gorga's Audience Chamber

"Oh, you meant our motives. Market domination, obviously. In a way, it's like many societies before they have an industrial revolution, the economy is dominated by cottage industries. In this case, modern day slavery is essentially the same as it's always been, a group of men looking to make some money either kidnapping sentients or trading for them. Even the largest slave-gathering operations are, in the galactic sense, small fry. Now, take textiles for example. Before an industrial revolution, anyone making them typically works out of their home, although there might be a guild here and there, but no single group dominates production...until one day, someone opens up the first factory. It might be steam powered, water powered, whatever, but its big, and it maximizes output for the lowest cost possible, and it grows. Soon it drives out all the other small time producers out of business, soaking up their share of the market to fuel its own growth, and the owners make plenty of money. Eventually some other people will start up their own factories, and the producers shrink to a few factories that are in fierce competition with each other. But until then, for that first factory owner, life is good. We want to be that first factory owner in a sense. We want to bring Mesan products to your markets, in higher numbers and quality, than our competition."

+++

"They're launching parasite craft, Sir."

"I see them."

"Enemy warships are in missile range," came the report from Tactical.

"Establish firing solutions, fire on my command."

Wittman eyed the countdown clock on one of the secondary displays for when the freighter's jump drive would finish recharging.

The final minute ticked away as the enemy pinnaces inexorably closed the distance, although it didn't look like they'd make it time.

His communications officer, a young brunette Beta lieutenant, spun around excitedly in her seat. "Venture reports her drive unit has recharged and she is ready for jumping!"

"Release decoy drones! Secure for emergency jump activation, both ships are ordered to engage their units immediately!"

The Manticoran vessels closing with Wittman's command would immediately detect the power spike in both ships emissions output just as four drones fired away from hatches in the armored hull of the Intrepid, two of them lashing at the enemy with ECM, and the other two increasing their power output until their emissions signatures glowed like battleship on parade display, simultaneously attempting to blind enemy sensors and distract their battle computers with targets easier to spot.
The Ctan
02-07-2006, 11:35
He had his gun drawn, held in a ridiculous sideways, ‘ganster’ grip, as he advanced on the allanean. “What you want here, Ally-boy?” he asked in a very strong Knootian accent…
Allanea
03-07-2006, 09:50
The Allanean chuckled, moving his left hand only an inch towards the grip of the Zeveska .600 H&H revolver. "I do believe you oughta take a course. And I'm here on business - just as you are, compadre."
The Ctan
03-07-2006, 19:23
There was one thing that marked the ‘Knootian’ out as something special and out of the ordinary, and that was the way he was able, with a single twitch of his wrist, reorient his gun and put a blaster bolt into the Allanean’s weapon, breaking it into two halves and boiling away a small part of its hoster, setting some of the Allanean’s clothes alight. “Unwise!” he said.

OOC: Mesa, any chance you and I could do a separate thread, about me sending some ‘representatives’ to see about the possibility of doing ‘business’ with you?
The Humankind Abh
04-07-2006, 01:55
OOC: Sorry for the delay here.

IC:

Refugee District Docking Pad

The Toydarian recoiled in pain, a wide-eyed expression of fear and disbelief on his face. Once out of reach of the weapon, however, he recovered some composure and looked the three over again. Glancing toward their ship he said "Tell-a you what, you look like good folks, how-abouts I give you the pad for 50 credits, huh? Very good deal. It's-a almost a steal, huh!"


Cara turned her blue eyes to Richard for a confirmation on the new price arrangement. A slight smile and a nod of his head informed her that all was well. Her agiel returned to her side while she fished around for the proper money to pay the Toydarian.

After seeing that the situation had been remedied, the three D'Harans turned and walked down the hall towards where they were expecting an audience.
Allanea
04-07-2006, 14:01
The Allanean screamed as he put out the fire, then he swore in unpronouncable curses at the 'Knootian'. 'Damn you to hell! What business is it of yours what I am doing here?'
The Ctan
04-07-2006, 14:35
“You Allaneans are always interfering, freeing people, that sort of thing…”

‘Don’t give him an ego boost.’ Erisavenus chided into the secure QE comms installed in the ‘droid.’

“…messing up. Get in the ship, Ally-boy, or you’re going to be waking up the other side of dead!”

‘Nice dumb drug dealer speak!’ the ship said.

‘What, I was going for cool!’ Erisath replied.

‘I’m suddenly disappointed…’
Mini Miehm
05-07-2006, 19:41
"They're launching parasite craft, Sir."

"I see them."

"Enemy warships are in missile range," came the report from Tactical.

"Establish firing solutions, fire on my command."

Wittman eyed the countdown clock on one of the secondary displays for when the freighter's jump drive would finish recharging.

The final minute ticked away as the enemy pinnaces inexorably closed the distance, although it didn't look like they'd make it time.

His communications officer, a young brunette Beta lieutenant, spun around excitedly in her seat. "Venture reports her drive unit has recharged and she is ready for jumping!"

"Release decoy drones! Secure for emergency jump activation, both ships are ordered to engage their units immediately!"

The Manticoran vessels closing with Wittman's command would immediately detect the power spike in both ships emissions output just as four drones fired away from hatches in the armored hull of the Intrepid, two of them lashing at the enemy with ECM, and the other two increasing their power output until their emissions signatures glowed like battleship on parade display, simultaneously attempting to blind enemy sensors and distract their battle computers with targets easier to spot.

A pair of massive graser beams lanced through space. The range was a bit long, but the enemy lacked wedges or sidewalls to attenuate the beams. So long as the shots hit their intended targets, there would be some sort of damage. Missiles belched free from the launchers, actually targetted at the other warship this time, not simply in the general area of the opponents.

Pinnace lasers stabbed through space, so light they would likely have little effect, but they might be enough to add a bit more damage to the freighters dries, and that was the real target to cripple. The Cruiser could be destroyed, but the freighter needed to be relatively intact, to give evidence of the obviously illegal actions the ships had been engaging in.
The Mesa System
06-07-2006, 07:23
True, the Intrepid did not have either an impeller wedge or sidewalls that were the most effective counter to grasers, but they did have gravitmetric screens designed by the Solar Navy itself, and the range was long.

The focused radiation of the grasers smashed into the cruiser's shielding and washing over it. Some energy leaked through, smashing into the armor, and the cruiser shuddered slightly from the hits.

There was a flare of white light from Venture, and the freigher jumped away.

"Venture has escaped sir!"

"Incoming missile fire."

PD lasers engaged, tracing back and forth across their fields of fire, rapidly spitting beams of destruction.

They got most, but three raced into engagement range, and the cruiser shuddered more heavily this time as stilletos of energy stabbed into its side.

Wittman grimaced as the damage report was listed off by DCC, "Rader Two, Battle Lasers Four and Eight, and PD Clusters Two and Six are out."

"How many dead?"

"15 confirmed dead, 6 wounded, and 3 missing."

His XO sighed, citizens and valiant defenders of the Conglomerate, murdered in an act of aggression. This wouldn't go unavenged.

"Target the enemy parasites, go to rapid fire on our missile tubes, and finish the jump to Y'toub."

Missiles spat into space from Intrepid's six broadside missile tubes at 10 second intervals, each getting off three shots before the cruiser flared with a bright light and jumped away, leaving only the four orphaned drones and eighteen missiles bearing down on the pinnaces.
The Mesa System
14-07-2006, 22:13
Bump?