Post by Bettie Won on Feb 20, 2012 20:58:06 GMT -5
Units on the Ground:
1: Stormtrooper Squads 1: AT-ST's
Fortifications at Location:
The Promenade was a glitzy and extravagant commercial region on Nar Shaddaa during the Cold War. The area was run by the Hutts of the Hutt Cartel and boasted casinos, boutiques, and a massive golden statue of a Hutt in the center of the Promenade square.
Post by Jarga the Hutt on Mar 7, 2012 18:16:59 GMT -5
Jarga looked outside the transparisteel window and into the lights of the city. Nar Shadda was filthy, dirty, disgusting mass of buildings and lights. Entertainment galore with no thought for the health and safety of it's occupants.
In other words...a Hutt paradise. Hutts were strong, powerful creatures. Resilient to not only disease but harsh conditions, they have sharp and powerful minds, even Jeedai mind tricks were useless against them. Other beings...lesser beings... had their place, and that place was to serve.
With the death of Jommama, and the destruction of her space station, the planet had suffered. The people worked hard to rebuild but it was still a mess. He was tasked with fixing the problem. The Hutt Council had placed their test on him, his success' in the past had made him comfortable before on Carnovia but now that the Council had decided to join the Galactic Senate on Kuat things needed to change. And yet in the back of his mind he still had to figure out what to do about the disaster on Zeltros. That could either bring him profit, or cause him political disaster.
The corpulent Hutt tapped the end of his hookah pipe on the left side of his enormous gaping maw. His solution to the problem on Nar Shadda was simple. Corporate sponsorship. Several new business had wanted to work on Hutt planets, but were denied out of hand. His solution was to use these companies to front the demolition and repair efforts and in return they could build factories and advertisements for a 25% discount. Of course the Hutts still would make money, and the clean up would be for free.
A win/win all around.
Jarga sighed. While the Hutt Council made all the main decisions, he himself was in control of the Cartel. An open secret but one that the game still needed to be played. The Hutts needed to be represented well in the Senate, but not too well. Jarga grinned slyly. He knew just the pair to send to Kuat....
Post by Jarga the Hutt on Mar 20, 2012 14:00:13 GMT -5
The Hutt sat in silence for a long time. He had the lights down very low, a dim setting that he had grown accustomed to over the years. Often he would sit and smoke in the dark, contemplating what move to make next in the game. Lately the game had went south. Over half a dozen Hutt lords had taken a catastrophic fall in their dealings over the last five years. A rash of instant failures to a long lived species like the Hutts. Minor and major uprisings, battles and political change in the more human dominated areas of the Galaxy had shifted the balance of power. The latest blow being Zeltros.... while the Council was occupied with the deals on Empress Teta, Gorma's death would have to be reported.
Jarga slammed his fist down and shook his massive head. "Wermo Mando'a youngee! Coona-ee tee-tocky malia?" He was going to need an update, and soon....
The Council could only focus on one thing too closely for so long. They would start to wonder why Gorma hadn't reported and, much more importantly, why no profits were being reported.
Jarga was counting on those credits she had in order to line his own pockets, but the longer this drug out the worse it would get. He needed an update. Taking another long pull from his hookah, he mulled it over. Yes, he would give her one more day, then he would call and demand a progress report.
*Wez locks down his ship and leaves the docking platform just outside the refugee sector and makes his way to the Promenade. The one benefit of Nar Shaddaa is the fact that there is a code of sorts, honor among thieves, within the criminal element, probable fear of angering the Hutt Cartel. As long as all remember their place within the system and respects the territories.
Wez makes his rounds of the Promenade to check out all it has to offer. His main purpose is to purchase a pilot droid with certain other relevant programming. He also plans to make a stop at the BHG to check on his account to see the funds have been transferred from his last completed bounty hunt.*
*After walking through the ground level of the Promenade, comes across a directory sign, with a red neon marker indicating *YOU ARE HERE*. The sign indicated the upper level was for food and drink kiosks. Down a ways from where he stood there was a droid shop. Wez moved on down the durasteel flooring to the droid shop. The inside seemed far larger than it appeared from the outside. The shop was filled with all series of droids; service models, labor models, models for home use, protocol droids, medical droids, any thing you can think of it seemed they have. There was a solid unmarked door off to the side.
The irony of it was that the shop seemed to be manned by droids. An Administrative Droid was at the front desk with accounting droids buzzing about keeping track of the inventory, the purchases and the credit transfers. the droid informs him they accept all galactic currency: Imperial scrip, Republic credits and whatever forms of cash exists in the galaxy.
Wez tells the droid He needs one that has piloting skills, programmed in blaster use and melee combat. The droid summons a DD19 Overseer labor droid to escort Wez to the unmarked door where specially outfitted droids are kept. Once through the door, the storage area is guarded by Nar Shaddaa security droids.
The Overseer droid summons a 4XB Programmer droid which will, for the agreed upon price, load the requested programs into the appropriate droid shell. Wez chooses a BX-series droid commando shell; it's primary functions reinstalled: faster and stronger than an average droid, possessing heavier armor, capable of withstanding multiple shots from most blasters. It's arsenal included E-5 blaster rifle, DC-17m sniper rifle, stun baton, fusioncutter and vibrosword. The 4XB installs the piloting program containing independant brain functions, repair functions, hyperspace navigation and evasive flight maneuvers: all with the ability for immediate adjustment based on current situation. Wez pays the price for the droid with all it's special modifications, well worth the cost.
They head upstairs to the food kiosks to Wez can stop for a meal. He looks over the food kiosks and heads to one that sells Mandalorian food. It is run by an older Mandalorian couple. The small cafe is filled with Mandalorians of all clans and species. They all acknowledge Wez's presence in the cafe, by raising their glasses and other visual expressions.
The older man at the register who takes his order and the woman who delivers his food wear older armor, marked with the Clan Ordo symbols from days past. They share stories of battles long fought and their exploits throughout the galaxy. Ordering a bowl of red gourd soup, haarshun bread and a mug of Tihaar. The younger Mandalorians gathered at the counter eagerly listen to the history told by the elder Ordo Clan couple.*
Post by Jarga the Hutt on Jul 4, 2012 13:39:28 GMT -5
He had received the message from the Zeltron Mandolorian, and it did not sit well. He had been so angry that he had responded to her in basic, which he rarely ever did. So now he must report to the Council...a job he certainly did not look forward to.
Post by Jarga the Hutt on Jul 7, 2012 14:51:02 GMT -5
Jarga shook his massive head and sighed. Slithering onto his hoversled, he mounted the decptively swift mini throne and rode it back to the droid's transport. Not wasting any time the ship took off and entered the outer atmosphere.
Post by Jarga the Hutt on Jul 9, 2012 15:08:46 GMT -5
Jarga returned to the Promenade via the hanger bays, and considered his options. A direct order from the Council was not to be disobeyed, but the vagueness of his orders gave him room to interpret how he would go about it.
Debating with himself about his options, Jarga came to the conclusion of what should be done and in what order.
*Wez was passing the time walking through the Nar Shaddaa Promenade when his buy'ce alert went off. His alert system linked to Fi's, they would send an emergency alert should either get in trouble. Wez and his new 4XB droid hastily run back to the Juggernaut. Wez commands the droid to get in the gunner section. The droid replies that he senses an increase in his emotional state and suggests he not pilot the ship. Wez ignore him, checks the ship's sensors to track the alert system. It reads that the signal is coming from Tatooine. Wez wonders what happened and is concerned knowing that the Naboo mission may have gone south as she was supposed to rendevous on Nar Shaddaa. The Juggernaut blasts off into the planet's orbit.*
Post by Jarga the Hutt on Jul 10, 2012 23:12:56 GMT -5
Jarga gathers his lieutenants and holds a meeting concerning how Nar Shadda is to be handled in his absence. The Hutt hand selects a group from his staff to accompany him on his travels, and soon he and his entourage are boarding his ship, the Easy Peesy.
The ship leaves the Promenade and heads out into Nar Shadda orbit.
Post by Dhagel Xirio on Apr 5, 2013 23:29:04 GMT -5
The KY-4321 descends and eventually winds its way to the indicated landing area on the Promenade. The last few hundred meters it is very touch and go, and when the landing gear doors are opened two of them simply fall free into the yawning chasms of the city below it.
It touches down with a crunch, hydralic lines blowing free on the landing struts, and it settles deeply, the shocks bottoming out. Its engine's noise whines uncomfortably and then abruptly shuts off with a loud clang and discharges a large black soot-cloud. It was old and ill-kept, and it had been a system hopper for many years, well in the backwaters of the galaxy. Even when its ancient body had been clean and new, its hyperdrive had been made only for local trades, and was never meant to cruise the main hyper-lanes to far points of the galaxy. But this abused bucket had been pushed far beyond its intended use, the ionic deposits on its hull attested to the inferiority of the hyperdrive. The emergency patches and repairs covering countless deep blast-marks further attested its suffering.
Now here on Nar Shadda, it would have its rest and be recycled.
One-eye and his partner both slump in their seats after landing for several minutes. They had seen brutal combat, but though neither of them would admit it, they had just survived the most terrifying 10 minutes of their lives. It is several minutes later after they manage to peel themselves free of their chairs and don their helmets that the doors of the ship finally open.
It is not a victorious entry to Nar Shadda, food containers and the overwhelming funk of over-recycled air spill from the ship, followed by the pair of them, clad in worn and repaired storm-trooper armor, with mismatched parts and glaringly different paint jobs. It was if these two had scrounged every bit of fourth-hand imperial armor they could find in 30 systems and assembled a "complete" suit from it.
One-eye checks to make sure his pistol is well-secured in its holster, then slings the blaster carbine over his shoulder. Turning to his partner, "I hope we can make it past the first 3 minutes... But you are right, I don't see any other way out of this.
Post by Jarga the Hutt on Apr 5, 2013 23:38:16 GMT -5
When the pair of Stormtroopers exit their ship, the steam and fog rise from the platform below, making the group of figures approaching them hazy and fuzzy. but as the smoke clears, the site before them is one straight out of... Force knows what the fierfek!
Approaching them is a Squib, heavily laden with enough bandoleer straps to arm a tribe of Wookiees. Even more outrageous was the itty bitty Morson blaster pistol he carried. The thing looked like it might break in half if he dropped it. Following him were four Jawas, dressed in bright red tunics and hoods, but with green piping all along the sides of their shoulders. The front two carried Ion pistols and the back two carried.... large brass percussion instruments? Following the Jawas were a pair of Bith that literally looked like they had been dragged off a street corner moments ago, kloo-horn players living on the streets.
The Squib approached one-eye. Oh illustrious guests of the Mighty Jarga, our Master Twen' toos bids you welcome! The Squib waves his arms about and the group behind him begins to play a tune.
After they play a rousing tune, the Squib turns around in a horrible imitation of a parade march and literally falls flat on his face.
No one moves.
Eventually, after much cursing, he stands up and says, Follow me!
Post by Dhagel Xirio on Apr 5, 2013 23:48:19 GMT -5
They had expected a horde of mercenaries, thugs armed as heavy as a capital warship... At worse, they expected to be ignored utterly, and would have had to taken days tracking down contacts through the seedy underbelly of Nar Shadda, and seeing how that was the whole planet...
His partner turns to One-eye, "You just had to say fraking 'emissary' didn't you?
With a one-finger salute to his partner, One-eye starts off following along, his partner takes a moment to snicker before heading out as well.
Post by Jarga the Hutt on Apr 6, 2013 0:15:40 GMT -5
The motley crew wound it's way deeper into the Promenade, but instead of going through the nice, glitzy front doors, they went down a few levels and around the back way. At some point a fierce looking Devorian with a well maintained sniper rifle slung over his shoulder came up behind the group, as a sort of rear guard. While it was true the main party looked ridiculous, even passerby's turned away and minded their own business.
Entering through a narrow back door, the Bith and Jawas fell back, staying in the alleyway while the Squib and the Devorian flanked the Stormtroopers. The Squib, non-stop chatterbox as he was, fell silent as soon as they were inside. Several twists and turns in the ever darkening passages eventually lead to a door. One which a password was called for and given in return in Huttesse. The door opened into an immaculately furnished room, obvious signs of wealth displayed causally, even in a gaudy fashion. Sitting behind an extravagant desk was the fattest Twi'lek that either of the Stormtroopers had ever seen. He was dressed in bright yellows and greens, his tunic emblazoned with the Hutt Cartel emblem boldly. He wore massive amounts of gold chains, to many to count with a glance, banded trinkets adorned his lekku, and each finger wore at least one ring.
The Squib bowed before the man, and intoned Oh Master Twen' toos, the Emissaries are here to see the Mighty Jarga! The Squib turns to One-Eye. Master Twen' toos, may his feet never grow hair, is His Opulence's Major-Domo, he will deal with you now. The Twi'lek waves a corpulent hand, and the Squib scurries away as quick as a whip.
Twen' toos raises his eyebrows. Well? Who are you and what do you want?
Post by Dhagel Xirio on Apr 6, 2013 0:42:43 GMT -5
The pair took note as they traveled along with the ridiculous escort, as idiotic as the whole thing first appeared, it apparently had some thought behind it. One-eye noticed the way people turned away, almost in disgust at the spectacle. People didn't want to see what was going on, and that suited One-eye just fine.
By the time the pair arrived into the office, they were stunned. Neither of them had imagined they would get to this level of Jarga's operations right off the bat. They had hoped, dreamed even, that it would be simple; but neither had bought it.
One-eye then started to wonder if it really was that easy, his knowledge of the Hutts was dubious, he had only delt with some of of the lowest tiers of the cartels in his career, rumors, speculation and holo-vid stories made up the rest. But Jaggel, his partner had been right, they could not go around seeking out a buyer for what they had stolen. They would wind up dead and some nobody would wind up with the goods. At least the Hutts had the means to do it. Yes that meant they would get middle-man payout instead of serious "buy-your-own-moon" credits; but it also meant they might be able to live long enough to enjoy some if not all of it.
When Twen'toos speaks directly, One-eye slowly raises both hands, and indicates to his belt he means to retrieve a data-pad. He does so slowly as he begins speaking.
"The Mighty Jarga is well known in the galaxy, and because of his reputation we have chosen to offer our cargo to him first. To me it is obvious you are his eyes in matters of business, and our cargo are goods we feel are of note for his eyes. Specifically for his eyes..."
He retrieves the data-pad from his belt and holds it out in front of him. He pauses, unsure if it is proper to approach the Twi'lek with it, or if one of the toadies will deliver it to his masters hand.
"The asking price is one and a half million credits"
Post by Jarga the Hutt on Apr 6, 2013 1:05:04 GMT -5
When One-Eye raises his hands, the sound of blasters being ready is heard, like almost a dozen. It was apparent that Twen' toos believed in lots of unobtrusive security, but heavy none the less. If either man were to look around, they would see lots of dark shadows, yet armed thugs in every one. The Devorian leaned against the door they entered in, he seemed the only member of the security detail to be bored. The look in his eye, however, revealed he was very aware.
The Major-Domo flicked a finger to his left, and a sharp dressed Twi'lek woman came over and retrieved the data pad. She was the opposite of Twen' toos. Where he was morbidly obese, she was rail thin. He flashed an ungodly amount of wealth, she was unadorned, and plain, the exception being the exclusive name brand in business suit she wore. Briskly she took the datapad and handed it to her boss. He never left his seat.
Twen' toos began to go through the data pad, his eyes growing wider with each picture, until they began to narrow.
This is NOT what I think it is? You two.... how... He began to shake his head. His face was equal parts excitement and disbelief. How do I know this is the real deal? I think.... I think I need to see it.
Post by Dhagel Xirio on Apr 6, 2013 1:24:50 GMT -5
One eye is very silent and very still, even after Twen'toos speaks. He does not thing his partner has even taken a breath since they entered the room.
"It is, and I'll explain to your satisfaction gladly. It's real, check the date stamps on the photos. Yes, I know slicing date stamps is a simple thing, but that is the only immediate proof we can give you. We also understand you will want to examine our cargo completely. Jarga has the means as well as the reputation to warrant it. Thus that is our only other insurance I can offer you to validity... We know VERY frakin' well how dead we are if we're faking it. We are prepared to take you to the ship immediately."
One-eye was sweating profusely, his armor stunk to high heaven, but then again, they had not exactly packed for the trip they took. His first purchase besides a hot shower was going to be clean underwear. This moment alone was enough to warrant new ones.
Post by Jarga the Hutt on Apr 6, 2013 7:38:16 GMT -5
Rapidly the corpulent Twi'lek ran over scenarios in his mind. About halfway through the first six he saw himself as a corpse. There was no turning this just to his favor. He had to call the boss. The real question was this. Is this actually real, and these two cast-offs managed to pull the heist of the century, or was this some sort of infiltration mission the Empire was pulling. There had been quite a bit of change, one right after the other, within the Empire itself. But this....
Ok, let's go have a look. Once we are there and can verify, we can move forward on the negotiations. Twen' toos waved and a spider chair was brought to him. He heaved his massive frame upon it and was surrounded by 6 scruffy looking armed thugs. Lar'iel the Twi'lek female, went to the door and opened it. The Devorian stepped back and waved the two Stormtroopers back the way they came.
Once they had got back into the alley, the group followed the Stormtroopers, with Lar'iel walking next to One-Eye. I hope this checks out, for your sake, she intoned briskly. Although she did flash a brief smile. I think we all really want to see this. She then motioned for the pair to lead on to their ship.
Meanwhile, Twen' toos had been worrying the holo comm unit in his hands, debating on when the right time it would to try and contact Jarga. Too soon and the Hutt would get angry at him for making him wait. Too late and the Hutt would be angry for not seeing the cargo first. The Twi'lek decied that he would make the call once the 'troopers had taken them to the ship.
Post by Dhagel Xirio on Apr 6, 2013 10:59:54 GMT -5
They had exited the room without further comment. The repeated thought it was going too smoothly was nagging him.
The heist had been someone else's idea, he and his partner Jaggel were not even in the "second" round of additions to the plan. They had come along later, back there had been eight of them. A failed attempt to steal a different ship on Junction resulted in Gonor dead and Prenz with a wound he slowly died from. Three times they were jumped by pirates. Twice bad hyperspace jumps. The worst had been when the hyper-drive died the second time and contaminated the water-reclamation. The bacteria that ran rampant had taken 2 more, and would him one day unless he got treatment soon, the meds kept it under control and his kidneys working for now. They were dead-men walking, and the only way out of it was to deal with the devil himself.
One-eye motioned for his partner to take the lead as Lar'iel came up next to him.
"I hope this checks out, for your sake," she intoned briskly. Although she did flash a brief smile. "I think we all really want to see this." She then motioned for the pair to lead on to their ship.
One-eye nodded, he hoped dearly it worked out for his own sake. What she said then dawned on him. She was pretty hot, he had a thing for twi'leks. He hoped for her sake she was one of the ones to be in-the-know. He felt a bit sad that her life might be forfeit because he forgot to lock the screen on the datapad and she stole a peek of it.
Prenz had babbled quite a bit towards the end, between the bacteria ravaging him, and the gut wound that had gone septic, he spent many weeks bouncing between drugged out bliss and ranting delirium. By then they had all been suffering from hyper-space delirium. But Prez was right, that thing was frakin' cursed, its very existence proved it. And now this Twi'lek had been grabbed by the curse on it as well.
Post by Jarga the Hutt on Apr 7, 2013 0:52:46 GMT -5
The entourage was a bit of an uncommon sight but certainly not as outrageous as the first group. For one thing the Twi'lek Major-Domo rarely left his fortress, as he was indeed a man with many, many enemies. The fact that two cast off Stormtroopers were leading this group was also a mystery to any who would be paying attention. And while most try not to notice, there are always eyes out.
The more powerful a being gets, the more dangerous Nar Shadda gets, and that's a fact, Jack.
At several points along the path there are junctions where the armed escorts would tighten their grip on their weapons, and furtive glances at choke points or ambush spots. And so the group moved slowly forward, ever closer to this ship.
Post by Dhagel Xirio on Apr 7, 2013 2:05:00 GMT -5
As the pair arrive at the landing dock, Jaggel shakes his head as he sees the ship sitting there leaking and smoking still. One-eye does a quick scan with the package in his helmet just to make sure there is not any nasty surprises his eye can't see.
"I warn you in advance, the inside of the ship is worse than the outside."
He walks forward and keys in the access code to open the side hatchway. "I'd drop the back ramp to the cargo hold, but I don't think we want that many people to have a chance to see in... plus the ramp is fused solid from the damage... Consider it a security feature."
As the door grinds open, those with a keen nose would immediately notice the stench emanating from the ship. The fact it is palatable over the funk of Nar-Shadda, is a testament to its potency. Jaggel walks up the ramp and glances around checking to make sure nothing has been disturbed, before turning back to the group and motioning it is clear.
Post by Jarga the Hutt on Apr 8, 2013 2:42:31 GMT -5
The grating sound the boarding ramp made was hideous, and everyone not wearing a helmet winced at the sound, except the Devorian. His eyes just narrowed in murderous rage. But that was just the beginning of a lovely half moment. Lar'iel had stepped forward immediately, but just as fast she dead stopped as that smell wafted out from the ship. It hit everyone in three second stages, first the Twi'lek woman, then the first set of armed gunmen, then Twen' toos himself.
The Dev' didn't even seem to notice.
Twen' toos had just started to send a holo-comm message to Jarga, when he had to grab a re-breather and choke back the bile rising in his throat. Four of the six guards weren't as fast as the back two, and never got to theirs. Immeaditely the first guy doubled over and vomited, right on the boots of his partner. Which caused him to projectile vomit directly back into the first ones face. The next two bent straight down and puked on the boots of the first one, effectively making him a living example of Gammorean Artwork.
Lar'iel had a stronger resistance, which meant she watched the men vomit all over each other before she turned and bent at the waist, precisely turning into One-Eyes crotch area, and spewed her entire meal from less then two hours earlier.
Twen' toos began to wave his hands frantically. What if Jarga answers to this scene? He thought in the most horrifying manner.
Fix this!!!! he hissed at the Devorian, waving at the motley group of puking men. The red-eyed, sharp horned sniper drew his blaster carbine rifle in an extremely fluid motion. It was instantly obvious to the two military men that this one had been a pro for a long time. Barely taking a quarter second to aim, he fired off a bolt directly into the head of the first man, the blood splatter missing the troopers and Lar'iel, but coloring the side of their ship in a pretty new shade of red.
His hands were a blur, moving the bolt action weapon and re targeting to the next one puking as he reloaded the chamber. Less then a nano second and the next man was missing his head. His splatter went all over the last two men puking, who at this point realized what was going on. Panicked, they froze as the Devorian flipped a switch and blasted the two of them with a heavy duty stun blast. They slumped to the ground, and everyone stood still, everything quiet as if a breath was being held.
It was then that the holo-comm call being made was beeping in response, and the flickering image of Jarga the Hutt was coming into view....
Post by Dhagel Xirio on Apr 8, 2013 3:05:44 GMT -5
Jaggel had already stepped into the ship as the chorus of technicolor-yawns began and was spared the sight of it.
One-eye on the other hand was not so lucky, having a hot twi'lek stick her head near his crotch was something he usually had to pay 5 credits for, and she was usually wearing a whole lot less. Being the last set of clubs he had been in was the strip-bars on Dathomir, the puking on his junk wasn't a new experience.
The puke spatter made it difficult for him to draw his blaster pistol, by the time it cleared his holster it was all over, and surprisingly he wasn't dead. at least not yet. It was pretty obvious the Devorian had not included him on the kill list, so muzzle still pointing at the ground he inquired to the the Dev, "We good then?"
The flicker of light from the holo-com in Twen'toos hand catches his eye and he sees the image of a Hutt form. Not knowing what else to do, he holsters his pistol and wishes he wasn't doing this covered in vomit from the waist down.
Post by Jarga the Hutt on Apr 8, 2013 3:40:09 GMT -5
The Devorian nods in the affirmative. Talking wasn't precisely his strong suit. But that didn't apply to the corpulent Twi'lek. He held the holo projector in his hand, a fat hand that almost swallowed the holo unit. He adjusted the view so it was on him. He drew his breath, and prepared for the image to coalesce completely.
Jarga had heard his comm go off during the entrance of Jozzel and the Visla Mando. He waved a hand at Micah to do the talking. When the image came up of his Major-Domo, he narrowed one of his massive eyes. When Jarga spoke, it was in quiet tones.
What do you want Twen? This had better be important, I'm about to have my Junko juice!
Oh Mighty Jarga, Greatest and Chiefest of Calamities...
Get on with it fat ass, I'm busy here.
Twen' toos shook with equal parts fear and hatred. A Hutt had the audacity to call him fat?
I have a pair of.... uhhh... former Imperial dignitaries here with an item for sale. A very special item your Greatness.
With that Jarga squinted his eye, waving off Micah as he tried to get his attention.
Ok, show me. Turn this thing around so I don't have to look at you. Show me Lar'iel, then the item.
The Major-Domo did as he was told, but was practically fuming. The Hutt could be so insufferable.... but then again he was rich because of it. He took a deep breath and relaxed. Turning the holo projector around he zoomed in on Lar'iel, as instructed, the usual spot, just below the neck and above the waist. Then he panned up to show One-Eye and the other guards going inside the ship. He himself went in second to last, with the Devorian as rear guard.
Post by Dhagel Xirio on Apr 8, 2013 4:02:13 GMT -5
As they stepped aboard, the interior of the ship was worse than the outside, there were blaster marks and scoring all over the interior. Cables were draped, patched and hanging loose and nearly every access panel was missing. Wrappers and supply packets, of food stuffs, parts and medical supplies totally littered the floor. The ship had the quality to it like it was done up as a set to that Don'dee horror-mentary holovid. Though from the stink, one could tell there was nothing sterile and artificial about this.
As the view of the rear cargo hold comes into focus, Jaggel is still moving odds and ends and shoving assorted garbage off the big grey box. On some of the other crates scattered around the hold, the labels are clearly readable, mostly Imperial foot-stuff crates that have been emptied and tossed aside. One crate seemingly intact reads "Type 43 Thermal Detonator". Then finally as another piece of refuse is shoved out of the way, the crate in the center of the bay jumps into clarity. The image lingers for a long moment then swings up to the one miss-matched trooper and then the other for a brief instance before returning for a close-up.
In the dark confines of the hold it would be very easy for something terrible to happen while people were focused on examining the cargo.
Neither Jaggel or One-Eye dare utter a word, they figure it best to just speak when asked to and volunteer nothing without prompting.
Post by Jarga the Hutt on Apr 8, 2013 5:09:26 GMT -5
The eerie feel emanating from the ship was hard not to notice. Although there were four less beings then at the start, the ship still felt like cramped quarters. Twen' toos spider chair had the worst time of it, stumbling and rocking as he walked. Jarga could be heard muttering in Huttesse. It didn't sound pleasant.
Eventually the group got to the storage area, and it was in a greater disarray then any of them had thought possible. Jaggel had set about moving things around, and at one point Twen' toos paled at the crate that said 'Thermal Detonators'. It was only once the debris was cleared that the cargo became clear.
Lar'iel was the first to react. Her gasp was one of excitement and revulsion. Twen' toos leaned as far forward as possible, his eyes furiously looking over the flashing lights and minor beeping sounds. Only the Devaronian had no tell. A perfect sabacc face all around. If anything he looked bored.
All of a sudden, a annoyed voice was heard. Well, lets have a look! I can't see it like you can. Closer, closer....
The image came into relief. The Hutt's eyes opened wide, and his immediate shock vanished. There was a long silence, as everyone seemed enraptured with the item. The moment lasted long enough for the Devaronian to clear his throat. Potentially in irritation, or boredom. It was at this point that Jarga emitted a deep belly laugh. What did you ask? A million credits? No... this is something much bigger. Something you really can't handle.
I'll give you each ten thousand credits and a transport off Nar Shadda.
Post by Dhagel Xirio on Apr 8, 2013 11:48:35 GMT -5
It was at this point that Jarga emitted a deep belly laugh. What did you ask? A million credits? No... this is something much bigger. Something you really can't handle.
I'll give you each ten thousand credits and a transport off Nar Shadda.
Jarga's belly laugh trails off into another uncomfortable silence. Jaggel stands across the cargo from One-eye holding his breath, a part of him wants to shoot the hologram just for the insult. One-Eye lets the uncomfortable silence drag on a few moments longer, watching Twen'toos' eyes carefully. He figures the fat-man will bluster something out emphasizing his boss's offer when the silence gets too long and it is apparent it is meant to be an exchanged insult for the ridiculous low-ball offer.
No one will ever be able to say if One-eye saw something in those piggy little eyes of Twen'toos or if his own will broke first.
"Respectfully Mighty Jarga, the initial asking offer was one and a half million... If I can think of three people who'd be willing to pay two million easily, I'm positive you've already recalled com-codes of 10 individuals who would pay you double that without blinking.
He pauses and rubs the back of his helmet as if considering what to say next or is weary, both are very true.
"What you said is obviously true, this is a big score. No one has pulled a heist like this in two eons, probably longer. That is why we came to Jarga the Hutt first, it is well known how well you handle things, and I certainly mean no offense when I say you are ruthless and shrewd enough to ensure profit on this.
One and a quarter million, we tell you the story, then we make ourselves scarce. Cargo, ship, story all yours, you get the goods and all the glory for it."
Post by Jarga the Hutt on Apr 9, 2013 17:48:37 GMT -5
The flickering holo image of Jarga smiled, a wide deep maw of disgust. Twen' toos... the face, I want to see his face. The massive Twi'lek motions for One-Eye to remove his helmet. Once done, the Hutt speaks again.
Good, good. I can scarce believe what I see, but you are right. I DID insult you. Your response is acceptable. I won't have Vash just kill you out of hand. The Dev, perched behind Twen' toos, smiled the most fierce sharped tooth look he could muster, then went back to the complacent, bored like look he maintained the majority of the time.
But one thing you must understand, that many credits gets a being noticed, and that leaves some nasty loose ends. A pause, then: And nobody here wants to be a loose end, do they? We all know what happens to loose ends. So I'll give you a counter offer. 75,000 credits for each of you. A different transport then what you have, safe passage through Hutt space for two standard months. Jarga missed his hooka right now, but there was nothing he could do about it. And one more item, together these things should make up for the smaller credits.... I'll give you the girl. If you accept, I'll have Twen' toos sign her ownership papers over to you right now.
The Major-Domo's jaw dropped, and he began to speak, to work that massive mouth of his, but no words fell out. Lar'iel's face dropped, and you would have thought the Hutt had just ordered here into a Sarlacc pit. But, much to her credit, she didn't protest, or speak.
Post by Dhagel Xirio on Apr 9, 2013 23:44:38 GMT -5
After Twen'toos gestures for him to remove his helmet, One-eye looks at the Dev and nods. Reaching up slowly and displaying his hands are empty, he pops his helmet catches and lifts it off his head.
His skin has an unhealthy pallor to it. Even with his buzz-cut hair, one can tell it is dirty and greasy. Open sores are all over his face, some obviously are wounds from fights, hard to tell how recently, others are obviously from prolonged exposure to a compromised life-support system. The worst is the scar down the right side of his face, it is angry and red; obviously infected. It is made no better by the fact it goes right through his eyelid, which is an unhealthy pink it makes an disturbing corona to the black hole of the empty socket. One can tell it is not a fresh wound, healing has occurred but badly, and it has repeatedly reopened in these horrid conditions.
Seeing the Major-domo's reaction gives him a way out of refusing the girl. He looks at the flickering holo-image, making sure Jarga gets his wish and can see his face clearly. "I'd say your Major-domo must suck at poker. Judgin' by his reaction, we'll pass on the girl. I'd have concerns of our survival followin' the conclusion of this call. It was however a very generous addition to your offer."
He looks over at Twen'toos, One-eye knows at the moment he doesn't have much of a face to try to convey a thought with, so he nods a slight nod to the Twi'lek. The girl is hot, but she is not a "solvent asset". Definitely a nice asset though, but he'd never get the value out of her. Like their package, it would need a special buyer to get even a portion of the full worth of her, and that wasn't in Jaggel and his plans.
"We know the base worth of this as well as you, and we know you are a business man, you have much in the way of overhead. You, like us, must think of both expenses and retirement, my initial offers did not take fair account for your costs in this. For that, I apologize profusely Mighty Jarga. Thus, a transport of good shape and quality with legal... enough... registry is no small change, easily a solid six figures of value anywhere. That and a half million credits each... Of which, which we'll accept a combined quarter million of that total credit value in currency-stable commodities. We can change those then for cash elsewhere, and thus not at your expense."
He looks back over his shoulder at the cargo laying there, at once so simple a thing and yet so amazing. He smiles like a wolf as he turns back around. "I figure for you, Great and Mighty Jarga, that would get you this... He gestures over his shoulder, "for just under a million in real outlay, and to us it could spend well over a million if we are wise. The best part is... it gives us LOTS of incentives to be more silent about this whole thing than if we were dead."
He knew Jaggel must be shiting his armor right now, the Hutt had made 2 offers, one was a good one, and with a Hutt you were never sure if their "three offer rule" counted the first joke offer or not... It usually depended who pissed in their breakfast that day.
How he countered was pretty bold, or more to the point insane. For over the last year his life was beyond the realm of insane as it was, he was pretty sure he was going to spend a significant hunk of money on something therapeutic and lots of drugs... Sadly those would be the prescribed kind.
He stood there, still smiling, but not on the inside. Inside he was sweating, hoping the Hutt was doing the mental math and realizing he could get off relatively cheap if the Hutt had the inventory. That was yet another reason they had chose Jarga. The slug likely had warehouses of crap to give instead of cash. Nearly everyone wanted actual credits, but trade goods were as good as cash and sometimes better, and that might make the difference to Jarga, and get them out of this with both money and their lives.
Warlord Chiren Guinn: Far be it from anyone to suggest you don't have room here Seiga
Jul 25, 2020 15:17:20 GMT -5
Sarrai: There is always room Seiga, you are a key player here!!
Jul 25, 2020 9:28:00 GMT -5
Master Seiga: and when did Cait call it quits? That's a shame
Jul 25, 2020 0:05:59 GMT -5
Master Seiga: Mmm, is there room for a Jedi in what's going on? I've got to be honest, I've been out of 'the game' for awhile. So I'm probably rusty
Jul 25, 2020 0:04:49 GMT -5
Warlord Chiren Guinn: If it helps, I am usually online around midnight to 2:30am New England time. I work 3pm to 11pm during the week, and typically sleep until 9 or 10am. That's why my appearances have been spotty.
Jul 24, 2020 20:45:30 GMT -5
Warlord Chiren Guinn: I'll be posting when I get home, Sarrai. I had some trouble with writer's block, but I think I'm over it now.
Jul 24, 2020 20:43:20 GMT -5
Warlord Chiren Guinn: Also, Seiga, if you do decide to RP with us, we would be quite glad for it. It's been pretty gloomy in terms of activity for a while now.
Jul 24, 2020 20:40:18 GMT -5
Warlord Chiren Guinn: I've seen Yurik online with my PS4 many times, pretty sure he just decided to quit RPing when Cait made it clear she wouldn't be able to RP anymore. And someone definitely lurks, I see guests here all the time.
Jul 24, 2020 20:39:23 GMT -5
Sarrai: Hey Seiga, that happens to me too, you disappear when I sign in. Finally a challenge for the galaxy.
Jul 18, 2020 7:41:40 GMT -5
Master Seiga: Naturally, I'm able to come back and everyone runs off. cracks knuckles Guess I'll have to take over the galaxy myself and remake it in my glorious image
Jul 17, 2020 22:34:16 GMT -5
Governor Alexis Grey: Haven't heard from either of them in at least a couple of years by now.
Jul 15, 2020 19:27:24 GMT -5
Sarrai: I wonder about Cait and Yurik who just up and vanished
Jul 15, 2020 12:29:11 GMT -5
Sarrai: He probably lurks
Jul 15, 2020 12:26:29 GMT -5
Master Seiga: Is Jaing even on here anymore? Pretty sure I scared him off
Jul 15, 2020 12:19:34 GMT -5