NationStates Jolt Archive

Leader Tony Garazoni sat in his plush velvet chair, the sixty year old crime boss had finally decided to make his move in the galactic scene. The large scar on his right cheek was clearly visible in the dark room that served as the meeting room for the Leaders of the Kel'moran Triad.

The other two leaders Vito Barlucchi and Aldo Corlini nodded to Tony Garazoni in a respectful nod. Leader Tony Garazoni returned their nod and showed his respect to his associates.

It was no secret that these men knew each other very well now. They ran the organization with an ever watchful eye on local and galactic events. Information was a key component in this business and getting it was not too hard if you had the right amount of money and the ability intimidate.

These three men all had those qualities they had survived political assassinations from rival bosses and rival syndicates. They had spies on every major subordinate on the make and even on members of certain families within their sphere of influence.

The other thing they possessed in spades was criminal muscle. These men could send any one of their many hirelings to kill anyone or a member of their family. That made them a very dangerous power to contend with.

These men could ruin any normal citizen’s day with just one order. They could make any average Joe lose their job and get them thrown out on the streets to day a slow and painful death starving on the streets. That however was bad business sense and thus was not a useful tactic to employ.

The goals of the organization were to make a profit by any means possible. This is why Leader Tony Garazoni had asked his fellow Leaders to meet him in person at this Triad controlled night club. The club was secretly owned by an associate to the Garazoni faction of the organization.

The Family’s internal security forces did not even know this place was Triad controlled. It was one of many thousands of fronts that existed on this planet to hide the activities of the Triad and its criminal ventures.

Leader Tony cleared his throat and said, “My friends, I have come to discuss a large business deal with you.” Tony then nodded to two of his bodyguards. These two large burly men armed with slug pistols started to move away from their boss and went outside to the door and stood guard at the door making sure no intruders entered while business was being discussed.

Leader Aldo Corlini watched the scene and secretly smiled to himself. Aldo was good at hiding his emotions and once even managed to convince a man he had come to talk with him. Aldo had kept his face totally friendly and sincere even when he stabbed the poor man in the heart with a switchblade. This is why Aldo was a dangerous man when playing poker….

Leader Vito Barlucchi was not as good at hiding his emotions but his ruthlessness and cunning were second to none. He was in charge of the coordination of the more brutal aspects of the organization. Vito could plot ways to murder people that would seem like getting hit by lighting was a probable reason for their death. Vito growled and demanded, “Get on with it! Internal security does not even know we are still alive!”


Tony sighed and realized that his precautions were probably meaningless but the old man preferred caution before starting business in this matter. Leader Tony said in a hushed tone traditional for a proposal, “My friends, we have grown rich and powerful with our joint ventures.” The other two men nodded to acknowledge the accuracy of their colleague’s words.

Tony smiled and added, “I have another plan to increase our profits on an almost epic scale. The drug known as thyraza is a hot commodity to the rich and powerful. They would pay greatly for shipments of the stuff.

I have an idea we have a pirated fleet of ships we could use them to begin extorting this new market. We could take entire shipments and sell them to the local families that are willing to do business with us. We can even save some for special friends within our organization.”

The other Leaders looked at each other with fear reflecting in their eyes. They knew this stuff was valuable and could bring in much revenue but could be costly. The Families could try to destroy the organization for such an action. This would have to be done silently and covertly.

Leader Aldo Corlini replied first, “Leader Tony, You propose a very dangerous enterprise that will require much revenue and political strength to cover up. I suggest we start using our contacts in government to start getting more up to date weaponry for our ships.

We can not afford to lose too much of our ships over something this risky. We need them to smuggle supplies and collect tribute from the other bosses. The fleet gives us power over the other bosses.”

Leader Tony Garazoni smiles and said in a very hushed voice, “I shall use twenty percent of my earnings to repay any losses to our ships. I believe that should cover any loses to you gentlemen.”


Vito Barlucchi whistles in surprise and said, “This kind of thing could get us enemies and profit. I think we should do it. I have not had any high ranking hits lately.”

Vito’s wolfish grin was a scary sight to the others and they both had to use their powers of reservation to avoid looking frightened and weak.

Tony Garazoni stood up from his chair and asked, “So comrades, are you with me, or against me?”

The two crime lords stood up and said at the same time, “We are with you leader Tony.”

"So, we're stopping over in.. Kelmora. Why?"

"Because, you idiot, we're being paid to do so. Besides, we need to deliver thyraza to the Tenan Family."

"Right. But.. why Kelmora? It's outside of any Family control!"

The two men argued, as they sat in the freighter, the aptly-named Morbid Scrapheap. It was an old ship, some hundreds of years old, and it had been patched up, and used to trade among the stars. Thyraza was rare, valuable, and incredible useful. And, of course, everyone wanted it. The nominal captain, James Tyrook, spoke,

"That's exactly why we're stopping there. We have a gram of thyraza. A gram. If it wasn't for those damned kill-switches that will go off in two days, I would've run off with it. A gram of thyraza could quite comfortably buy us a fleet of ships like this one, or perhaps a city. Or an asteroid habitat."

A milligram was enough to fuel thyraza addiction for quite some time. A gram was enough to supply an entire Family for a year, or so. The ship was filled with protective systems - traps, locks, sealed doors.. all to protect that precious gram of thyraza. When thousands upon thousands of kilograms were produced every day, it didn't seem like much. But you had to take into account that the single planet fueled the ENTIRE galaxy's lust for the drug. Demand far outstripped supply, and a gram was a king's ransom, enough to make the owner comfortably rich for the rest of his days.

He spoke with a lowered voice. His comrade, Albert Quickhack, was the second-in-command. He'd paid for about a third of the ship's worth, and he commanded as a result.

"So.. it's all those Tenan Family boys aboard that have stopped us running off. Well.. I don't really get all this politics. Just explain it, 'kay?"

James stared at Albert. How could the man be so dense?!

He closed his eyes, took a breath, and explained. "The thyraza we're carrying, as well as the weapons and stuff, is all going to Tenan worlds. It's valuable cargo, and any Family would kill us just to get their hands on it. Kelmora, on the other hand, is controlled by mob bosses. They'll probably demand a fee, but they won't want to search our cargo. As such, we can sit here, until we get notified to 'jump to a Kelmora system. We gotta keep this low-profile, otherwise we die."

Albert nodded slowly, and then spoke. "Yeah, I gotcha. Keep it low-profile."

James sighed. "So, we'll be entering orbit around Kelmora, and we'll dock with one of the stations. The Scrapheap needs repairs, and we need to get some more fissile materials, to power the hyperjump unit. Hopefully, we can keep our cargo of thyraza undetected, and get this delivery done."

He walked over to the controls. The constantly-rotating ship provided a modicum of gravity. After all, they didn't need combat efficiency. But gravity kept them healthy, and stopped them ballooning out, and suffering from all kinds of nasty things.

A radar system showed him where the ship was going to move to - massive engines flared, slowing it, preparing it to move into orbit. He cringed. They were going to dock in a crime boss's station, refuel and repair, and go on to deliver a valuable cargo to the Regent. If word got out about his practices.. he'd never see another delivery again.

Of course, he didn't know that one of the men aboard was looking to make a quick buck. And that the man had his own radio system. A message was sent to a station below, routing through to Tony.

This is a member aboard the Morbid Scrapheap. We are a non-combat freighter. There are about ten combat troops aboard, and a massive cargo of weaponry. In return for 5% cut of cargo, will give more information about ship. Reply on [frequency].

The crewman, a man who called himself Black, was looking to make more than a quick buck. He had a thyraza addiction himself.. and a five percent cut of the thyraza there would keep him alive for years...

Tony Garazoni was in his personal mansion on the northern continent of Kel’mora during this time of year this part of the planet was warmer and Tony preferred a warm climate. He had several high class residences all over the planet and would constantly move around to make assassination harder.


You never could find Tony unless you happened to know where he was or you used a special frequency to reach his private radio. The radio transmission was intercepted by one Triad station and several satellites and was forwarded to the Leader's personal radios. This was considered high level stuff and only the upper ranks would speak for the organization in such matters.


Tony Garazoni heard the message and was quietly intrigued by it. This could be a big break for his reputation and could gain him power. The 5% could be a lot of the profit but that was fine. He could afford to be generous and probably earn another eye among the merchants.

Leader Tony replied in the frequency requested:


You have a deal, information is always useful. I would like to know to whom, I am dealing with?

Leader Tony waited for the reply and hoped this was not a trap…

The Space Station: The Black Hand........



The Space Station was a round circular platform station. It had a massive ring that circled around the circular design to create artificial gravity and maintain an easier serving time for the station crew and security personal.

The Station was salvaged from old parts of old station designs and this one was made to act as a massive holding station to hold up to four medium size vessels at a time. The docking equipment was already extended and ready to latch onto the arriving merchant vessel. The Station was also armed with several target seeker launchers. These massive missile turrets were manned by several weapons officers onboard the station. These highly trained personal now trained their specific turrets upon the incoming vessel that headed towards the standard orbit of the planet itself.

The Station was well armored compared to the vessels that made up the ragtag fleet of the Triad and could easily devastate a large capital ship with up to five rounds of nuclear enhanced target seeking missiles.

The Station Manager was sitting in his command chair along the control bridge. He had been sleeping as today had been a very boring day. The usual smugglers and military pirate vessels had already come in and refueled and headed towards their assigned destinations. The sudden arrival of the unknown merchant vessel was detected by the stations radar and the radar officer reported the foreign vessel to his superiors.

The communications officer a fat chubby man in his late thirties was given the order to send a challenging hail via radio to the unidentified vessel that was coming towards the station.

This is the Traid Station Black Hand. You have entered Kel'moran sovereign space we demand you identify yourselves and state your business in our territory.

This is the Morbid Scrapheap, a non-combat cargo hauler. We are stopping by for repairs and refueling, in preparations to make another hyperjump. We have legitimate authorization to be here, as ratified by the Imperial Council. We request immediate supplying, and we are willing to pay in goods, or Imperial Credits, should they still be good here.

"You idiot!"

James hit Albert across the face, sending the other man sprawling.

"You absolute fucking moron! I'll kill you!"

He stepped up to Albert, quivering with rage, and stabbed his foot down, into his face. A satisfying crunch resulted. Again, again, and again, he hit the man who had curled up into a fetal position, his fear and anger taking control, until Albert lay there on the floor, a bloody, near-dead mess.

He restrained himself. They'd be able to get him cured. A few broken bones were nothing to medical technology, and, although he'd be a bit uglier.. if he lived, he'd be fine.

But the man had sent a message, stating that they had authority given by the Imperial Council. The Council gave out authority very, very rarely, and only gave it out when there was something they wanted at stake. It would be obvious, now, that they were carrying something valuable.

They couldn't make another hyperjump, though. The ship's fusion torches were running low as it was.. and they simply didn't have the energy required. That, and the navigational data. Since planets, and systems always moved, one always had to update the navigational data, each time you made a jump. It took time, which wasn't always something they had.

He looked at Albert, and snorted. The man had put them all at risk. And, after all, with him dead.. the ship would belong to him alone. Hardly a poor proposition. He moved over, and, reaching down, broke the man's neck, killing him nigh-instantly.

On the decks below, Black sent another message.

Thyraza. Over a gram. Pure, no protective layering. Some artillery, slug-throwers, and some missiles.

That was the other thing about thyraza. There was 'street' quiality, and 'pure'. For the most part, thyraza dispersed easily, and was fairly fragile. Keeping it intact without some sort of protective field was impossible. So, it was covered with a digestible substance, a mildly addictive, and pleasurable drug, itself. Only the tiniest amount of thyraza was contained within the substance, which went by many names, and had, naturally, many forms.

A gram would make thousands of kilograms of actual 'useable' thyraza, which could be distributed wholesale, and more, if used efficiently. Black shivered with anticipation. Or perhaps it was withdrawal. He could never tell the difference, these days.. he needed thyraza. He respected the captain,and he didn't dislike the crew members.. but the need for the drug overwhelmed him. If they all had to die.. it was regrettable, but a sacrifice he was more than willing to make.

Tony Garazoni listened intently to the message and smiled like a cat that had cornered a defenseless mouse. The notorious Triad leader quickly moved away from his radio and quickly picked up his personal suitcase computer. This computer was Tony’s personal computer used to quickly access information within the Triad’s private network. The ships and stations even the thousands of finical logs were all recorded within this network with different levels of access.


Tony placed this vital piece of equipment on his lap. The suitcase has a button on base of the handle. Tony quickly presses the button and a female voice originating from the suitcase and said, “Please place your right hand and upon the hand scanner on the top of the case.” A small compartment opens up from the top part of the case. The metallic top of the case slides away to the bottom to allow the compartment to be accessed by Tony’s right hand. Tony quickly placed his right hand on it and the system registers his prints and his D.N.A. The system recognizes both and the case opens up with a metallic clink.

Tony smiles to himself and begins to think that if an intruder tried to force his way into the case with out the Hand DNA scan. The computer would have self destructed wiping out all evidence of Tony’s activities. Tony begins to access information on the ship Morbid Scrapheap. The system searches the network intently and after a matter of a few minutes a few successful outcomes. The main outcome came from the Space Station Black Hand. The Morbid Scrapheap had requested to dock for to refuel and to re-supply. Tony smiled and sent an instant message to the station via the network. He ordered the station to allow the Morbid Scrapheap to dock.

The message also entailed the cargo and the orders to seize the cargo as soon as the docking clamps grip the merchant ship. Tony watched as his personal orders went straight to the station via the massive internal computer network of the Triad.



*****************************************************
(The Black Hand Station)


The network officer stared at the computer screen and yawned. It seemed like another pointless job until a sudden message appeared and jump at the front of all activities. The message was from leader Tony Garazoni himself. The network officer jump out of his mobile chair and ran towards his boss the Station Manager.


The network manager whispered into the ear of the Station manager giving him word for word the message about taking the merchant vessel and seizing the cargo. The Station manager smiled and finally returned the Morbid Scrapheap’s hail,


You have permission to dock and refuel. You must however pay a larger servicing fee for your own personal protection. You have foolishly mentioned you’re on the Imperial Council’s business as such you have all but announced to every pirate and lowlife onboard you are carrying valuable cargo.


The Station manager smiled at the cleverness of this message that he had just sent. It sounded like a reasonable request from an organization that specializes in strong arming merchants and extorting people in need.

The Captain onboard that ship would most likely curse and yell at his communication officer but he would not suspect treachery after a message like this. He would believe the money would buy the Triads off. They would lower their guard and be easy pickings for the Triad soldiers that would secretly blitz them.

The Supervisor in charge of security was already getting his crew of twenty soldiers together. They would be ready and armed with assault rifles and flame cannons. They were wearing heavy armor to avoid return fire and had thermal imaging goggles. The Supervisor was given a mask and gloves and a metallic case to contain the highly valuable gram of thyraza.

The crew would be the ones to board the target vessel and kill the crew. They were ordered leave no survivors to avoid people talking. That also meant the informant was also a target….

OOC: Only way I can think of to get in to strike that bargain you were looking for.

IC:

He wasn't a space pilot, he was a docter! Dr. tottenkaufen was mildly upset that the captain and crew took to bed with a case of Space fever.

"Just keep on this course." The Captain said.
"There's a big station up ahead." The captain said.

"Yeah right, and your only mildly retarded." Dr. Tottenkaufen thought.

Then, a few hours later, the navigation system beeped to inform him of The Black Hand Station.

"Ok, maybe he did know something." Dr. Tottenkaufen thought.

He sighed, and slid on the rolling chair over to the communications section, and opened a line.

"Black Hand station, this is Dr. Tottenkaufen, requesting docking permission, I need only some fuel and a few supplies and I'll be on my way." he said over the line.

The Station Manager was still smiling when he received the request from Dr. Tottenkaufen vessel. The Station Manager looked at his radar’s information and figured the vessel could dock provided they did not interfere with the raid on the merchant vessel.

The Station Manager decided to have them dock on the other side of the station to avoid them being in the way of the operation. He quickly turned on the speakers and said into them,


This is the Station Manager of the Black Hand a Triad Station. We must formally request that you dock at the other side of the station to avoid disrupting the entry of the merchant vessel that is currently heading into our facility.

You will charge a standard refueling fee and any supplies you wish to get must be purchased ahead of time. We accept both Imperial Credits and items for bartering.

The Station Manager was still smiling when he received the request from Dr. Tottenkaufen vessel. The Station Manager looked at his radar’s information and figured the vessel could dock provided they did not interfere with the raid on the merchant vessel.

The Station Manager decided to have them dock on the other side of the station to avoid them being in the way of the operation. He quickly turned on the speakers and said into them,

"Ok, as for supplies, I need some food, and the basic ingredients for a cure to Space fever. Stupid captain. As for payment, I have 1,000 credits, and being the docter that I am, various medical supplies useful in curing a wide range of diseases, and sedetives for the more rowdy paitence, just, nothing for space fever. I'm sure we could come to SOME arrangement." Dr. Tottenkaufen replied.

He docked in the appropriate section, oblivious to the raid that was about to occur, though, his sedatives would make things much easier. Live captives were worth something after all, even if only slaves.

Originally Posted by Ri-an

"Ok, as for supplies, I need some food, and the basic ingredients for a cure to Space fever. Stupid captain. As for payment, I have 1,000 credits, and being the docter that I am, various medical supplies useful in curing a wide range of diseases, and sedatives for the more rowdy patients, just, nothing for space fever. I'm sure we could come to SOME arrangement." Dr. Tottenkaufen replied.

He docked in the appropriate section, oblivious to the raid that was about to occur, though, his sedatives would make things much easier. Live captives were worth something after all, even if only slaves.


The Station Manager grinned and said,

I think we can come to an agreement come to the station control bridge and meet me in person. I would prefer to give you an offer face to face and not out on the radio where it can be intercepted.


The Manager was thinking about his luck. Medical supplies and a doctor’s friendship could be a profitable investment for the Kel’Moran Triad. The Council of Three might even reward him for gaining such a business deal.

He might even lower the prices down for the supplies in exchange for some of his supplies and maybe he could convince the doctor to bring some friends to Kel’mora to help in patch up work on some of the boys after they get into a turf war against the organization’s rivals.

Dr. Tottenkaufen, or, Dr. Tot for short made his way to the bridge, with some directional errors. Though he had never spoken his name, looking at him, short red hair, green eyes, and thick volumous mustache, that he was the genuine Dr. Tottenkauffen, head of the Order of Healers. He stood a full six foot, and had on long black rubber gloves, a white lab coat, and black rubber boots. His name was inscribed in gold on his coat, beneath both the Caduceus, and The Rod of Asclepius.

The Station Manager was a large thin framed man with wiry arms. He looked more like a technician than a gangster in the Triad. He took a long look at Dr. Tot and said, “Welcome to the bridge of The Black Hand. We thought you had gotten lost in the cargo bay or something. I mean it took you awhile to get here.”

The Station Manager merrily laughed and added, “Okay now to business, The Organization needs a lot of things and is willing to pay to get these things. You need fuel and items that we can procure. I suggest we make a sort of business deal one that can benefit the both of us.”

The Manager looked at the doctor trying to see if he was going to swing towards no or yes...

The Station Manager was a large thin framed man with wiry arms. He looked more like a technician than a gangster in the Triad. He took a long look at Dr. Tot and said, “Welcome to the bridge of The Black Hand. We thought you had gotten lost in the cargo bay or something. I mean it took you awhile to get here.”

The Station Manager merrily laughed and added, “Okay now to business, The Organization needs a lot of things and is willing to pay to get these things. You need fuel and items that we can procure. I suggest we make a sort of business deal one that can benefit the both of us.”

The Manager looked at the doctor trying to see if he was going to swing towards no or yes...

OOC: Being the future, I'm going to make a few things up.

Dr. Tot simply raised an eyebrow.

"I see, things such as Thyrazia, a hallocenigenic substance useful in stopping cardiac arrest, things such as fellinimine, a powerful sedative made of non-earth ingredients, maybe you'd like to go old school. I have some Mary Jane for stopping pain. It would be easier, if I knew what exactly you did and did not want.