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ComNet > The Osk Company > Archived Tall Tales > May the Wicked Never Know Rest (Prospectives)
 
 
 
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Topic:  May the Wicked Never Know Rest (Prospectives)
Bloodhound
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Bloodhound
 
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  May the Wicked Never Know Rest (Prospectives)
May 20, 2010 11:27:49 PM    View the profile of Bloodhound 
Moelik Hond could not help himself, he could not help himself from loving this playground the Pirate King had made. It was everything that equated to nothing. It was vice and violence, and that was all brigand needed.

Moelik had dreams, he had dreams for the future, one day in the future where he had avenged his fallen friends he would open a shop. A swoop shop. The future. He tried not to think of it as he once again entered his favorite brothel.

Moelik Hond, Bloodhound, wished to be more than he was, but some part of him knew he never would be as he bounced from bar to bar, finding work, ever searching for a way off the planet, more than a few presented themselves, but each time he backed out. He wasn't sure why.

The Locker Proper, the term given to the most city like part of the underground port was a wide cavern, dominated by makeshift buildings and catwalks, it was all lights, darkness and people. Bloodhound liked how easy it was to lose his red eyes and unusual dress in this place. It was one of few places he didn't look out of place. He looked like just another pleasure seeking pirate, wanting nothing more than a strong drink and some pleasurable company, which wasn't far from the truth of him.

He could, of course, spot the prospective members of the actual Osk Company, there were many pirates and brigands in the city, but truly few belonged to that old man's group, and the Prospectives stood out. They had a certain air that said they belonged to Osk, but a degree of uncertainty that said they didn't know thier place yet. Bloodhound exhaled out his nose, blowing smoke. What did they know.

It was the beginning, and for him hopefully the end, but he had a feeling that like all things dealing with Snipes there really was no end.
TRP/PVT Bloodhound/3SQD/2PLT/1COM/1BAT/1RGT/VEA/VE

Ain't nothin' but a hound dog.
Skarr
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Skarr
 
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  RE: May the Wicked Never Know Rest (Prospectives)
May 21, 2010 11:40:57 PM    View the profile of Skarr 
Skarr stepped off of the transport and took his first look at the Locker. It was rundown, unorganized, and crowded. At least in this poor excuse for a spaceport. Skarr had come to Eyesore for a reason. He wanted to make at least a little money and he wished to help the Vast Empire cut down on enemy trade.

The various pirates and low-lifes walked around doing their business. Skarr smiled and continued towards the Locker Proper. He was a little delayed, but he arrived at least some time before the meeting. The people  around him could easily tell he wasn't a part of the Osk Company, yet. Skarr still hadn't shaken off the military posture.

He wore his leather duster and black leather boots. Skarr had very little of his weapons on his persons. But he had realized how stupid it would be to bring no weapons to a hub of mischievous pirates and privateers. Skarr stared at everyone who got too close.

He finally reached the Locker Proper, after many detours and dead-ends. This place is a maze, Skarr thought in wonderment. He didn't understand how anyone could find their way. The Locker Proper was just as crowded and broken down as the rest of the Locker.

Skarr spotted some of the other prospectives, he could tell them apart from everyone else. He began making his way towards them.
TRP/LCP Skarr/2SQD/1PLT/1COM/1BAT/1RGT/VEA/VE/

"No flag or uniform has ever stopped a laser blast." -Skarr's mentor
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Norith Skarr- Heavy Weapons Specialist
Good at blowing stuff up.
Hunter-Morrell
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  RE: May the Wicked Never Know Rest (Prospectives)
May 22, 2010 12:50:10 AM    View the profile of Hunter-Morrell 
Zooming low over the expansive fields of junk, Hunter brought his starfighter almost a complete stop. Letting gravity take over, he fell a few hundred meters before engaging the repulsors, slowing the starfighter's descent. Starting up the thrusters, he traveled about half a kilometer before spotting his destination, a surprisingly well-kept hangar. Drifting in slowly, he settled down on the deck and shut down the starfighter. As he climbed out, he initiated the anti-theft procedures, a little something extra he had added a while back. As he dropped to the deck, he scanned the rather small hangar for an exit. Seeing a set of open double-doors set near one of the corners, he started in that direction.

Once outside, he stopped and attempted to take in what he saw. A maze of run-down buildings stretched out before him and he whistled slowly as he realized that they were situated in such a way that would frustrate anybody that was relatively new to this place, but would be intimately familiar to anyone who had lived here for a while. After pausing for a few moments, Hunter shrugged and set off in a random direction with no apparent destination in mind.

--------------------------------


Hunter cracked his neck slowly as he watched the pair of prospectives, one male and one female, from under the cover of an awning that swooped out from a small building. He had found them completely by chance, or they had found him. After walking for almost an hour, he had stopped to rest and had spotted the two standing around across the street. After a few moments of study, he recognized their behavior as the sort that a recruit would have on their first day in the Academy, or at least the male was acting that way. That meant he was new, or at least acting like he was new. Either way, the pair was probably who he was supposed to meet up with, according the message he had received a few days earlier.

While he was actually a prospective too, he wasn't exactly the type to let himself appear nervous, except when it suited his purposes. Even so, he actually was nervous, despite all appearances.

Having never been so close to what he had always thought of as scum, it was quite unsettling to see various unsavory characters wondering around with visible weapons. Some of the weapons were either illegal or had illegal modifications, which was almost enough to make Hunter want to call down a strike squad on them. Luckily, his self control was greater than that and he clamped down on the urge. He shifted his feet and winced as a spark of pain shot through his feet.

This is exactly why I hate standing. Stand in one spot for too long and your feet start killing you. Well, I guess I better walk over to those two and meet and greet. I have a feeling I'll get to know them better over the coming weeks . . . whether I want to or not.
SC/CWO Hunter Morrell/A-1/S:23 "Tuk'ata/W:1 "Javelin"/Atrus/TF:A/1Flt/SFC/VEN/VE
(=A=)(=SA=)(=ME=)(=*MAE*=) [CBV.][NS-1][SWC][BRC][VC:B][SoL][NSR]
[This message has been edited by Hunter-Morrell (edited May 25, 2010 9:26:53 PM)]
StarFruit
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StarFruit
 
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  RE: May the Wicked Never Know Rest (Prospectives)
May 24, 2010 1:20:45 AM    View the profile of StarFruit 
"I guess I should go back, huh?" The words left her lips and struck the sound receptors of the custom  slicer droid that was fiddling with wires in one of the many control panels of her ship. The droid made a few beeping noises then turned his head towards the woman, a look on his custom made eyes that gave him the faux emotion of skepticism.

It - or rather - he beeped again and turned his repuslor lifted body to face the ex Squad Leader. "Back where, Miss?" He asked, the sound of what would be a physical eyebrow quirk obvious in his droidy-droid voice.

"Bah. Rivvet. Don't call me 'miss'. You know I hate it."

"Sorry, Jaenna." He replied, turning back towards the wires as he lit a small welding tool that was built into one of the five fingers on his left hand. "Now, pray tell, just where exactly you're talking about?"

Jaenna Caldwin sighed and pressed the smoked LungBlaster'slit end down into an ash tray, then looked down at the floor, shifting her rump against the edge of the table so to be standing a bit more comfortably. "Ah. That's right. You weren't built yet, Riv."

"It appears that way, Captain Obvious."

Jae quirked a brow, a soft, disappointed scoff coming from her lips. "I really need to work on your comeback arsenal, Riv." She chuckled gently, running a hand through her short, dark hair. "Anyways. I'm talking about Eyesore. The planet that the Osk Company is based out of." She spoke normally, as if she didn't care. Her shoulder shifting up just barely to give off a small, apathetic shrug.

"The Pirate gang?" Rivvet asked as he turned around again, his voice now holding what would be a physical 'surprised' face due to the heightened inflection at the end of the question.

Again, Jaenna shrugged. "I guess you could call them a gang. I was a member once. Sort of. But then I had to go take of shit back home, so I kinda just... disappeared from the Empire and Osk for a while." She took a deep breath, rummaging through her vest's left breast pocket for a small joint of Pixie. She put it to her lips, lit the end with her handy-dandy Zippo lighter and took a nice long drag of the spice. She brought it away from her lips again, held between her right index and middle fingers. She exhaled as she began to speak again. "I mean... yeah. They're pirates after all so I dunno how they're going to take me suddenly showing up again. But what else do I have to do around here?"

"The RAIDERS, Jaenna."

"...Yeah. They don't need me as much as I need something to make myself feel useful. I can just talk to Havock. Let her know I got shit going on. She'll understand."

Rivvet shook his head and turned away from Jaenna, only to start rolling down the hallway to work on the next bit of work that needed to be done on the Renegade Ghost. Jaenna sighed and ran a hand through her again, taking another drag of her Pixie joint. "She'll... understand." She reassured herself out loud. "Ayme just can't know what I'm doing." She took another drag, exhaling it slowly after holding it in for a few moments.

Finally, the gal took a deep breath, tossed the roach of the joint into the ash tray and made her way to the cock pit. She sat down slowly, her hands moving over the double handled joy stick slowly, and sighed. She stared out the window, into the darkness of night on Tadath. She had still been living in the Tadath hanger,not yet feeling comfortable to put all of her issues back on Ayme by moving in together again. A few more moments of staring passed by, her steel blue eyes narrowed and slightly squinted due to the effects of the Pixie. She shrugged, and took a deep breath. "Back to the life of a Pirate, matey."

---------------------------------------------------------

::A few standard hours later::

"Why did I come back..." The words fell from the gal's lips slowly, mixed with tendrils of a heavy smoke that lifted into the air around her head, continuing upwards until it dispersed completely. She stood, steel blue eyes covered by a pair of square-rimmed sunglasses, back against a rock wall of one of the multiple buildings surrounding her. Her right arm was crossed over her stomach, left elbow propped up on her right wrist, a lit joint of Pixie held between her left index and middle fingers. From behind the sunglasses, she peered into the crowd. Wondering, this time to herself, why in fact she had come back to Eyesore after having left Osk the first time. She was clueless on any answer. She was even almost terrified of what exactly they would do to her when they saw her face again. Not like I ever really got into doing anything for them. She told herself, taking another drag off of the spice joint. The taste of strawberries rolling over he tongue as she inhaled the smoke that would eventually give her the idea of being stronger than normal.

Those eyes then saw something. Something that would cause her to stop in mid-drag, and pull the joint from her lips, her jaw hanging slightly ajar. The form of the slightly older man caused a twisted frown to flicker to her face. Was he seriously here, too? Shit... If he goes back and tells Ayme... I'm a dead woman.  She sighed and pushed her right hand through her newly died hair. It was no longer dark, but now it was a brighter auburn. More red than anything. She pushed off of the wall after pressing the lit end of the joint into the rocky surface to put it out, and made her way towards the man she hoped would be smart enough to not make a big deal out of anything.

Jaenna approached Skarr, her eyes still hidden by the sunglasses. She wasn't sure if he had seen her since she had died her hair, since she hadn't exactly been around the barracks much lately. She stopped once she was a couple yards away from him and the rest of the prospectives. "Oi. Skarr. Get yer bum over 'ere, yeah?" The spice had affected her accent.

The man turned around. He was only a couple years older than Jaenna herself,but the girl wasn't one for age over quality. She glared at the man softly, tapping the toes of her right foot against the ground, impatient. Finally, the man's eyes widened, having realized just who it was that was calling him over. "St-Star Fruit?" He questioned, cocking his head to the side slightly.

Jaenna gave him a look that could only be described as 'yeah, who the hell else could it be?'. Finally, the man closed the distance between them, now standing only a foot away from the woman, his voice lowered into a sort of gruff whisper as he began to speak. "What are you doing here? You haven't come to take me back to Havock have you?"

"Wh-what?" Jaenna's eyes narrowed, brows knitting in an annoyed confusion, as if she couldn't even imagine a question as stupid as the one just asked ever being asked. "Hell no, mate. I think I'm 'ere fer what you're 'ere for, yeah?"

The man chuckled, it was more of a nervous relief chuckle. "Ah.Good then. Nice to see you here. You're new?"

"Well...Kinda? I was a membah 'ere once before.But I had...er. Business tah take care of." The  woman shrugged and looked around at the other Prospectives. "I 'ope this bunch o' weaklings are ready." That was when Skarr's face changed from pleasantly surprised to slightly more nervous. "Yeeeeuuup. Snipes is one fracked up King. But somehow still gets 'is loyal subjects to kneel so easily. I admire a man like tha', yeah?." She laughed then and looked back to Skarr, winked and then turned her attention back to the lot of victims that the Osk company now had to play with.
TRP||SSG StarFruit||2SQD||1PLT||1COM||1BAT||1RGT||Tadath||VEA||VE
PCW||Prospector 'Jae'||Unknown||Eyesore||Osk Company

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Hunter-Morrell
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  RE: May the Wicked Never Know Rest (Prospectives)
May 31, 2010 10:16:31 PM    View the profile of Hunter-Morrell 
This place was the complete opposite of Abrae, at least it felt that way to Hunter. On Abrae, everything was neat and orderly. Here, not so. Chaos apparently reigned supreme; from the confusing maze of run-down buildings to the complex traffic on the roads, it was everywhere. It felt . . . perfect.

His upbringing has been in near isolation from any other being, and so he had always slightly enjoyed being alone, and had often sought shelter in isolation. Unfortunately, that wasn't always the case. Sometimes, he needed some living interaction with beings, and this place seemed perfectly suited to that task. Maybe his current feelings were being influenced by how he had spent the last six or so months, in addition to his childhood. All that time, he had spent on Abrae, performing various duties ranging from his position as Squadron Commander of Tuk'ata, to being a Trainer at the Naval Academy. In that time period, his duration on Abrae had only been broken by a few official missions and many more training missions and simulations.

Despite the length of time that he had spent on the planet, Abrae had never felt like a welcome place to him. The population was largely made up of civilians, and so he was in a minority of sorts. The only place he really felt at home was in behind the controls of a starfighter or starship. Hell, just about anything that was spaceworthy was an inviting place for him because he was pretty much free to go where he wanted to, which appealed to him greatly. Or maybe it was the whole aspect of exploration. Every flight was a new adventure or something like that. Regardless of why, it was just a simple fact to him. Unless he was off the ground, he would always feel chained down. So why did this place feel so inviting?

Frowning, Hunter lingered on that thought. It's answer eluded his thoughts as he attempted to grasp it. Then he realized what he felt. He felt . . . at home. This place appealed to him even more so than a cockpit, thought just slightly more so. As that registered in his mind, he pursed his lips and his mind returned to the age old question: why?

Maybe the smells? Sniffing, he recoiled as a nauseating wave of rotting compost reached him. Definitely not. Fighting the urge to vomit, he held his stomach. The sounds then? Focusing, he strained to take in all the sounds around him . . . and staggered a bit as a speeder with an obviously broken muffler roared by. No, couldn't be the sounds. Apparently he had been on Abrae too long; its usual quietness must have ingrained itself into his accustomed repository of sounds. Possibly the feel? He reached out and ran his hand down the side of a nearby building and abruptly pulled away as his hand encountered something slimy. Wiping it on another part of the building, he grimaced in the disgust. Not possible. Taste? Hunter stopped with that thought and shook his head. Too risky to try. How about the sights? Hunter looked around him at the dingy mix of beings. There were a multitude of beggar-quality beings to be seen, and not all looked friendly. Nope, not the sights.

And again, he wandered back to the question: why, then? He didn't know what else was left. And then it hit him, it wasn't one single thing alone; it was everything put together. Everything around him fit together in a perfect mix. Nothing seemed out of place, despite the hazardous layout of the buildings and streets. It was organized chaos. Things weren't controlled like they were on VE, beings weren't separated by what they did. It was one giant melting pot.

And finally, Hunter had found the answer to his question. Grinning, he looked around at his surroundings and this was the perfect place for him. No longer was he different because of what he did. Here, he could just be himself and be accepted no matter what. That, truly, is what made it feel like home.
SC/CWO Hunter Morrell/A-1/S:23 "Tuk'ata/W:1 "Javelin"/Atrus/TF:A/1Flt/SFC/VEN/VE
(=A=)(=SA=)(=ME=)(=*MAE*=) [CBV.][NS-1][SWC][BRC][VC:B][SoL][NSR]Imperial Network Star Wars Image
[This message has been edited by Hunter-Morrell (edited May 31, 2010 10:25:10 PM)]
Trix
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Trix
 
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  RE: May the Wicked Never Know Rest (Prospectives)
June 4, 2010 8:53:13 AM    View the profile of Trix 
Decembrist scratched the stubble on his chin amusedly as he studied the fumbling officer in front of him. She wasn’t used to be at the initiating end of such a conversation.

“Please Dec. I don’t know what to do with her otherwise.”

Her bright blue eyes darkened in sheer panic at the thought of his rejection.

A thought he entertained in his thoughts. The thought however, of Captain Aeos owing him a favour were more entertaining and much more convenient to OSK and their Pirate King Snipes. As strong as they still stood, one wrong move could bring them down to crumbling stones of debris.

“I will need to speak with Kami who I suppose will talk it over with his lordship.” He answered with a thickened yet feigned accent of formality at which Aeos scoffed. At least now she understood the receiving end of her own conversations he hoped.

They sat across one another basking in the dying light of dusk.
He was having his usual round while Aeos preferred to go along with the safer stuff. Tea. He shuddered and took another gulp from his glass to wash the thought away. 

“What’s her story?”

“I took care of since she was able to walk, I never thought much of it but obviously she did and she ended up following me to Tadath.”

Decembrist arched his eyebrows amusedly at Aeos who was still frowning in annoyance at the thought of Trix.
He leaned over to grab a handful of correlian nuts from the little bowl.  Around them the little café was quietly buzzing with life. It was decorated in subtle pastel colours splashed occasionally with a bright blue or orange. The tables were circular disks of unrefined wood roughly polished before it was assembled with equally unrefined stumps for legs.

“She’s almost of age you know. Why not enroll her into junior cadets or something? And granted with your signature on her papers, she’d be given the best quality training.”  Decembrist suggested lazily as he shot the peanuts one by one into the air and catching them with his mouth.

For once, the lack of his manners didn’t bother her at all.  She leaned forward and suddenly all pretense of ice and rudeness left her face leaving a confused and serious expression behind.

“I don’t want her to become an Imperial Decembrist.” She said softly.

Decembrist could almost choke on the peanut he had just caught.
“This is because what happened in the Locker isn’t it?’ he questioned.

Aeos diverted her gaze away from his too quickly.
“If this is because of what happened in the Locker between me and Kami and me and the OSK, would I honestly be sending Trix there for vacation?”

Decembrist leaned back into his leather seat. The few nuts he had left in his palm remained stationary and forgotten.
She had a point.

Aeos sighed and inclined her face to rest into her palms. She was so tired. She had left OSK along with Kami and Snipes a mere few weeks ago. It was an almost disastrous reunion especially between her and Kami. Imperialism which had connected the two women before had now been replaced by void which Aeos and Kami had to fill with something else that would hold their friendship. Despite their recent disagreements and disappointments, she knew she could trust Decembrist and especially Kami to take care of Trix. To keep the kid together in way she would not be able to. Kami had it right. Despite all the pretenses, the Empire was one big fat lie.

He sighed and rubbed one knuckle against his forehead in contemplation.  Aeos suppressed the friendly smile off from her face. It was refreshing to see the lackluster Demebrist capable of serious thought.

“I’ll see what I can do; I’ve been in desperate need of some good female company.”  He jested.

“Kami too out of your league?”  she jested back. The mirth escaped her eyes however.  He would be in deep shit if anything happened to Trix in and outside the ship.

“Don’t worry about credits, if that is your issue.” Aeos started.
“I will be sending her some creds every couple of month, but the rest she will have to earn the hardway.  I’ve already mailed Kami a package with basic stuff she will need, like a knife and a DC-15 and some clothes. If I send it with Trix she will just pawn the crap for creds or otherwise hurt herself with it.”

Decembrist grinned toothily.

“You’re awfully confident that she will get into OSK.”

“I trust you will try.” Aeos said as matter of fact. She was all back to business now.



Trix tucked one dirty strand of hair in behind her ear and out of her face and glanced around trying to make head from tails of her surroundings.

“This place aint too bad.” She muttered to herself stepping off from the shuttle.

She still resented being sent away from Aeos against her will but she trusted the Imperial to make the right decisions regarding her illegal status on Tadath.

This planet reminded her very much of home on Raxus Prime, just less junk no domed cities.  Currently she was located in one of the public shuttle parks where unrecorded drops and pickups were made. But just a click she could manage to make out the details of what would be the underworld of piracy. It was the buzz and flickering lights of slum cities, blaring machinery and polluted nature.

She felt a shove from behind which sent her a few paces stumbling forward. The shuttle which had dropped her off left in a violent gust of wind. Aeos had paid the pilot a massive amount of credits to privately escort her here. The man was a decent pilot from a trusted background who wouldn’t set foot on around the types of Snipes or OSK unless he was paid well. Aeos didn’t trust Trix to be able to make her own journeys just yet and even less she didn’t trust Trix’ ability to even work with credits which was still a foreign concept to the junk scavenger despite living on Tadath for a year. Aeos had kept her pretty much isolated and up to her own business in a condo somewhere usually.

She tugged at the new tunic shirt Aeos bought her just a few days ago. It was already splashed with oil and grunge.  Trix activated the holomanager again and scrolled down to where Aeos had recorded her her instructions for Trix to follow. The Captain’s face flicked to the screen again and started talking and indicating directions.

Through all of it Trix understood one thing.
She needed to find Decembrist at the Locker.
Skarr
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Skarr
 
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  RE: May the Wicked Never Know Rest (Prospectives)
June 4, 2010 6:10:22 PM    View the profile of Skarr 
Skarr was quite relieved when he had found out Jaenna was not there to retrieve him. In fact, she had seemed surprised herself that he was there. May be she wasn't supposed to be there either, but either way at least he had one team mate here. He had seen Hunter earlier, but they had only talked once or twice and only in passing.

He had told Jaenna that he was going to take a walk and asked her to inform him when the meeting began. She had agreed and wished him good luck. And that was how he found himself in the bar he sat in now.

Skarr wore a huge grin on his face as he talked to one of the locals. He was beginning to like these people, they were friendly and helpful, answering all of Skarr's questions. He still didn't doubt that they turn on him if they could turn a profit, but at least they'd do it in the nice very-sorry-to-do-this way.

Norith Skarr was also beginning to like this whole place. So yeah, the Locker was disorganized and cluttered, but it was a relief to be somewhere where he didn't have to be in uniform or write reports. Jhevons, the man he had been speaking to, had told Skarr the secret to all the chaos.

Now Jhevons was watching the disturbance at the other end of the bar and smiled.

"Get ready," he said.

Skarr was puzzled, "Why?"

Jhevons grinned, "Look, don't seriously hurt or kill anyone and no blasters."

Jhevons stood, "BAR FIGHT!" Skarr looked at him weird just as Jhevons punched him in the face.
TRP/LCP Skarr/2SQD/1PLT/1COM/1BAT/1RGT/VEA/VE/

"No flag or uniform has ever stopped a laser blast." -Skarr's mentor
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Norith Skarr- Heavy Weapons Specialist
Good at blowing stuff up.
Aeos
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  RE: May the Wicked Never Know Rest (Prospectives)
June 10, 2010 6:25:09 PM    View the profile of Aeos 
Bar fight. A vile and uncivil activity enjoyed amongst men to elevate prowess or to vent anger at the injustices life imposed at them. Ignited with passion and temper it could be a sandbox or an arena for the boy or the warrior participating in this activity.

Trix ducked off her chair only to hear it smashing and splintering as one of the fight participants fell in drunken stupor against it.  She scraped her knee across the shards of shattered beer glasses and bottles and cursed softly as she started scrambling for a corner on all fours. What the hell was she thinking coming here?

Truth in all, she had been desperate as she lost the hours on her watch to the setting of the sun while searching for Decembrist without avail.

“I don’t think so lassie!” a rowdy voice laughed and Trix felt fear gripping her on the insides with a steely grip as the hand around her ankle coiled and fastened.  The lights of the room had been destroyed a while ago leaving the occupants to the mercy of outside light and the few lone candles one of the poor beer-runners had setup a while ago.

Her shriek of terror went unheard in the bar which was pretty much being destroyed and plundered as the poor barkeeper used to the chaos simply kept at cleaning the only remaining whole glass still available in the bar. He would raid another bar to regain some of the supplies and capital investment lost he promised himself.

Trix clawed at the chubby fingers now running swiftly and aggressively to her bony waist where it rested for a moment before making their way up.  She screamt again, her voice breaking into a desperate cry as the man grabbed her away from the crowd to a private and even darker booth.  And as suddenly as he had imposed his presence on her, as sudden was his departure replaced by a feminine presence that started yelling at the poor teenager. She felt her face being slapped a few times and finally she started shaking herself out of it.

She still lying on the floor when she finally managed to get a good glance at her savior. The woman went quiet and sighed as she pushed some stubborn bangs of onyx hair from her face.

“Looks like you’re at your wits. Now, I will ask again. What the frak are you doing here? You obviously don’t  belong here.”
She sighed exasperatedly at Trix and scowled and extended her hand to help the teenager up.

Jae could tolerate a lot but that did not mean she would turn a blind eye to the injustices imposed on life, especially the injustices served towards women. And a child while at it.  She fiercely hoped that this blitz acquaintance will not last more than socially required but her instincts however laughed at these silly hopes.

“I’m looking for someone.” Trix mumbled as she rubbed her reddened and puffy cheeks.

Jae swiped at the girl though albeit more lightly than the previous time.
“In here?” Jae asked breaking into an ironic chuckle of amazement at the stupidity of Trix.

The mousy-haired teen nodded, still feeling slightly shaken up by her previous assault but she quickly toughening up again. She might be naïve and still off-beat but she did hail from a pretty banged-up planet herself where survival was scarce and challenging.

“And who I might ask?” Jae asked with arched eyebrows. Around them the world was still coming to an end with the bar fight in full swing. She had come here to drag Skarr’s lousy ass back but she hadn’t managed to find him yet.

“Decembrist.” Trix said as she dived to her small duffelbag which was still attached at her side miraculously. 

Jae went into a violent cough of surprise.

“Dec?” she wheezed through the coughing.

Trix was still searching for her holomanager but she nodded again.

“And who sent you to look for something like that?”

“Aeos.”

Jae’s system didn’t bother to cough again. She smiled wryly at the name. If this girl was sent by Aeos indeed, she would need to tread carefully. Her world was fast becoming smaller and smaller with all these familiars breaching on her reality. Shadow stepping Havock would require talent and skill now but at the same time by sheer connection with Aeos she could not abandon the girl. 

“Come on, I’ll take you to him. You’re looking for the Locker.” Jae sighed as she grabbed the girl by the one arm above the elbow.

The teen smiled brightly and nodded.



http://www.vastempire.com/wiki/index.php?title=Aeos

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[This message has been edited by Aeos (edited June 10, 2010 7:47:50 PM)]
Smirk
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  RE: May the Wicked Never Know Rest (Prospectives)
June 12, 2010 3:01:49 PM    View the profile of Smirk 
My, my, my. Isn't this a...lively...place? Mordecai "Smirk" Koethe leaned against a storefront casually, wearing his trademark expression and seeming completely at ease from all appearances as he observed drunken, bleeding pirates stumbling out of a cantina down the street. Obviously this was a very rough and tumble place- which was fine by him. Rough and tumble he could handle. He double checked the location of his paired DC-15s and his vibroblade, then straightened and continued down the street at a lazy pace.

As he walked, heading for the place he'd been told was The Locker, Mordecai watched the various denizens of this grimy hole. Many appeared to be relatively harmless- indigenous types who likely lived here in order to sell their various wares and services to the pirates basing themselves out of the town. Others, the second largest group, were very rough individuals. These would be the pirates: ill-mannered, often drunken, and perfectly willing to kill you if it would gain them enough credits to buy another drink.

The third group, and the smallest of the three, were the ones who interested him. They seemed to fall somewhere in bewteen the other two groups: every bit as menacing and dangerous as the other pirates, but exuding a rough sense of discipline that tempered their threat. These, then, must be others who'd come to join the Osk Company. Occasionally one of them returned his look when he glanced their way, eliciting a nod from him in return though he didn't speak to anyone. One man he noticed in particular, partially due to his blonde hair and partially due to the man's relatively calm, competent demeanor. That one he might talk to later, if the chance came about. He seemed to know what he was about.

Looking back up the street, Smirk continued to scan buildings and advertisements, looking for his destination. The Locker...The Locker...hmm.
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Skarr
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  RE: May the Wicked Never Know Rest (Prospectives)
June 12, 2010 4:25:20 PM    View the profile of Skarr 
"So now ye've had a look at piracy fun," Jhevons chuckled. His lip was bleeding and a black eye was beginning to form. Skarr only smiled slightly. The fight was a short ,brutal thing that seemed more as a release of tempers than anything.

Jhevons and Skarr had fought off the drunken pirates who came near and it seemed to Skarr that it wasn't even a fight so much as a friendly hello to their fellow mates. With their fists. So Skarr had joined in. It was a way for him to release stress and it was a damn good way to as well.

And now Skarr was once again in the Locker, waiting for the meeting. Skarr had not seen very many people he recognized. But he did see some people that were very alert and decided they were new prospectives just as he was. Especially one man who sat smirking. Like an idiot, Skarr thought.

Skarr stretched and looked around the Locker again. It was definitely an interesting place. Jhevons nudged him.

"Ya know, they're makin' you wait on purpose?" he asked. Skarr only nodded. Yeah, I know.

Skarr sighed. The new people were just milling around. He seen people of various species, genderm and ages. From teenagers to some older middle-aged humans. A blue skinned Twi'lek stood at the edge of the crowd. And the crowd of humans was interspersed with Zabraks.

Skarr caught sight of an exceptionally young teen. She stood in the middle of the crowd. What also caught Skarr's eye was that she stood next to Jaenna. He smiled and began making his way over to his comrade.

"Hello again Jae, this is Jhevons," Skarr introduced. Jhevons shook Jae's hand and Skarr looked down at the teen.

"And this is..?" Skarr asked expectantly. The teen looked up at him and looked away quickly.

"This is Trix," Jaenna said. Skarr looked at the girl again and shrugged. She was watching people intently and ignoring Skarr completely.

"Any news as to when it'll start?" Skarr asked. Jae shook her head. Skarr ran a hand over his head and started when he heard a small, but confident voice.

"And your name is..?" Trix asked impatiently.

Skarr grinned, "Norith Skarr. I hope you're ready for this." Trix was about to answer when a murmur swept through the crowd. It was a quiet thing at first, then it gained in volume. People began turning to the people next to them and behind them.

It was a general whisper of, "It's starting." spoken in different languages, tones, and words. Skarr looked up in surprise, he hadn't expected it so soon. He thought the pirates would make the prospectives wait some more.

Jhevons tensed noticably beside Skarr and the soldier could not begin to think what would make the pirate so nervous.

"It's him," Jhevons whispered, "The Pirate King!"
TRP/LCP Skarr/2SQD/1PLT/1COM/1BAT/1RGT/VEA/VE/

"No flag or uniform has ever stopped a laser blast." -Skarr's mentor
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Norith Skarr- Heavy Weapons Specialist
Good at blowing stuff up.
[This message has been edited by Skarr (edited June 13, 2010 5:49:16 PM)]
Amacuse
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  RE: May the Wicked Never Know Rest (Prospectives)
July 6, 2010 12:11:57 AM    View the profile of Amacuse 
The Onderonian Liberation flew over the vast expanse of landscape, and Cayden gave a whistle.  "Etere Videum, this is Cayden... I've reach my destination.  Beginning my descent now," he said into his radio.

[[Cayden, it's not too late to change your mind.  I've heard whispers about the Osk Company... most of those who join are never the same in the end.]]

"I'm aware of the rumors, Ashley... I can't change my mind now... I'm landing now," he said as he switched to the Osk channel.  "This is Cayden Tavers, of the Onderonian Liberation requesting permission to land."

[[Proceed to the hangar at the following coordinates.  Do not cause trouble during your stay here, or it will be the shortest you've ever spent planet-side.]]

"Understood," he said, switching the radio off.  He began piloting the fighter down into the lower atmosphere, switching the thrusters off and riding the wind and gravity down to the planet surface.  When he reached 1000 meters, he engaged the repulsor lifts and guided the fighter to what he assumed to be the hangar.  For pirates, this is pretty up-scale.  I guess it would have to be to maintain the vast amount of ships inside he thought as he piloted the fighter into the hangar.

The ship touched down with a shudder, and Cayden switched off all main power.  Better to be safe than sorry, I should remove the command power module he thought, opening a hatch below the control yoke.  He removed the power module, then shut the hatch before manually opening the cockpit.  He climbed out, then shut and locked the cockpit.  I'm sure someone can pick that... but without the power module, that fighter is going nowhere.  Heh... always new that tech program in the Onderonian Academy would come in handy... he thought as he stuffed the module in his side satchel and walked to the hangar bay entrance, smiling.

"Name?" the man at the desk asked, not looking up from his terminal.

"Cayden Tavers," he said, fingering a small pouch on his belt.

"It's a 200 credit landing fee, Mr. Tavers," the dock manager said, pressing several more keys.

"Of course," Cayden responded, taking the small pouch from his belt and placed it onto the desk.

The man quickly grabbed the bag and said "Have a pleasant stay here, Mr. Tavers."

Cayden nodded, then proceeded to go through the door, but hesitated.  "Dock Manager... you never looked at me once... why?"

"I am a busy man, Mr. Tavers.  I am facilitating transactions across the entire hangar grid," he replied, pressing keys faster than before.

Cayden looked over the man's shoulder and saw that he was counting credits.  "Looks to me as if you're counting today's scam.  Too bad I'm new, otherwise you would have charged more," he said, pulling back his trench coat to reveal an M-590 slug-thrower rifle.  "I don't have to make a mess, will I?"  Cayden was wearing his brown trench coat over his personalized commissar armor.  His armor was painted a dull black with a single royal blue stripe running around his right bicep.  The M-590 was slung over his right shoulder casually, giving him the edge he would need in this environment.

The flash of the armor, and the gun underneath, was enough to frighten the dock manager.  "No, Mr. Tavers... here..." he said, handing Cayden his credits back.

"Thank you... enjoy your evening," Cayden said, smiling.  He re-situated his satchel and continued out the door, taking care to remember the bay number.  376... that's a new one for me...  Cayden walked out of the hangar complex and took immediate notice of the amount of disrepair everywhere.  If Iziz looked like this... well, let's just say there wouldn't be an Iziz... he thought, frowning at the apparent lack of cleanliness.

Cayden walked in random directions, looking at both the locals and the pirates.  The locals are obviously no issue... the pirates though... a whole different ball-park.  I should steer-clear of them as much as possible he thought as he realized he walked into what resembled a cantina.  Damnit... so much for avoiding... he thought as several mangy men dressed in extremely filthy, tattered combat suits walked up to him.

"What are YOU doing in MY cantina?" asked one of the men, the scent of alcohol strong in his breath.

"Actually, I'm just meandering about, looking for a good place to get a drink.  So, if you'll let me get something, I'll be on my way..." he said, trying to make a move to head to the counter.

The pirates knocked him back into the door and their leader said "I don't like smart-mouth, cocky kinrath who think they can waltz in here and think they own the place."

"Well, I don't like your alcohol-reeking breath in my face!" Cayden said, landing a punch in the man's gut, then landed an uppercut to the man's jaw.

The Pirate leader fell backwards and hit the floor hard.  Several of his men made a move to start brawling with Cayden, but instead stopped when he pulled his 590 out.

"You see this?  This is my insurance policy.  It ensures that any attackers who come my way are guaranteed to be incapacitated, or I get my money back," Cayden said, smiling.  "Now... do you think it's wise to mess with me?"

The pirates grabbed their leader and exited the cantina.  Cayden smiled, then walked to the bar and waved the bartender over.  "Glass of water, please," he said, sitting on one of the bar stools.

The bartender gave him a strange look and asked "You sure?"

Cayden looked the man in the eye and responded "Positive."

The bartender grabbed a glass from underneath the bar and filled it with what resembled blood.  "Here ya go, son," he said, his smile revealing that he was a few teeth short of a full mouth.

Cayden looked at his drink, then sniffed it.  Smells clean... but I'm not sure... he thought as he took a sip.  Huh... tastes like water... water that resembles blood in color and consistency... extremely bizarre indeed...  He turned around on the stool and watched a merc, followed by the pirates that ran away earlier, entered the building.

"Which one of you did this to my men?" he asked angrily, his big, meaty hand resting on the pirate leader's shoulder.

Cayden watched as the pirates all pointed to him.  Well... so much for that being my only fight... he thought as he set his glass down and got off the stool.  "I did.  Name's Cayden... who are you?" he asked, standing firm as the clearly larger merc walked up to him and stood inches from him.

"Who am !?  WHO AM I?!?  I am the Mercenary Captain Dodge Serat!  And the only thing that you need to know is that you broke the number one rule in here, and that is..."  Dodge leaned in closer, so that his face was a mere two inches away.  "Don't screw with Dodge!"  The scent of alcohol and death sticks were extremely strong on his breath.

"Well then... now that we got THAT out of the way... You can get the frak out of my way, or I will make you move.  Your choice," Cayden said, smirking.

"Why, you arrogant, son of a-" he started before Cayden shoved the large man backwards, shattering the table behind him.

Cayden quickly threw open his coat and pulled up his M-590 before the other pirates could react.  "Now... if anyone, ANYONE, wants to attempt to try and stop me, feel free to draw your weapon now, otherwise... GET THE FRAK OUT!!!" he yelled as he fired several rounds into the ceiling, causing permacrete dust to fall on the pirates heads.  "Don't make me ask again..."

Two of the pirates made a move for their blasters, and Cayden quickly pulled his rifle to his shoulder and blew them both away.  "Any other takers?" he asked, pointing his gun at the last pirate standing.

The pirate shook his head and made a move to grab Dodge when Cayden fired another shot into the ceiling.  "Leave him... he stays with me..." he said, taking a step forward.  The pirate turned and left before Cayden decided to change his mind and blow him away.  Cayden smiled and walked over to the bartender.  "Sorry about the mess..." he said, tossing him the pouch of credits.  He walked over and grabbed Dodge'd right arm and dragged him out of the cantina and into a nearby alley, where he slapped the merc until he came to his senses.

"Huh.. wha-?  Oh frak..." Dodge said when he saw Cayden pointing his M-590 at him.

"I only have one question, and I expect an answer: Where is the Locker?" Cayden asked, his finger resting on the trigger.

"The Locker?" he repeated, spitting on the ground.  "You don't find the Locker... it finds you."

"What the frak does that mean 'it finds me?'" he asked, taking a step closer.

Dodge spat again, and said "It means they'll find you if they like what they see."

Cayden was growing furious, and instead of shooting him, he smacked Dodge in the head with the butt of his M-590, and left him lying in the alleyway.  'You don't find it... it finds you...' What a load of shit... he thought as he walked away from the cantina.
Chief Petty Officer Cayden "Amacuse" Tavers

FM/SCPO Amacuse/Γ-2/S:26 Tuk'ata/W:58 Javelin/VSD Dead Gun/TF:R/2FL/SFC/VEN/VE (=AE=) (=*SAE*=) [IG]

FL/SCPO Amacuse/B-1/S:137 Raptor/W:46/ PLF Saratoga/TF:TH/3FL/SFC/VEN/VE (=AE=) (=*SAE*=) [IG]
Tinker
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  RE: May the Wicked Never Know Rest (Prospectives)
July 9, 2010 11:22:08 PM    View the profile of Tinker 
This has got to be one of the craziest things you've ever done.

Cadie tapped her knee. Her head was resting heavily on her arm of the same tapping hand. She could hear her mothers voice in the back of her head scolding her for having her boot up on the console of her 'new' ship. The CRF-156T Raven was not old by any means but when she found it there was no way it would see space without being shot from a cannon, even then it would have been a short and spectacularly destructive trip. Cadie repaired the beauty in her spare time, and could not have been more proud of how she turned out.

Spare time, heh, that made a small cocky smirk come to her lips. There was a time when her spare time had been spent in the cantina back on Abrae. The navy had been far from a cake walk lately, hell her life wasn't the most pleasant thing to think of which was why she avoided thinking about her past if she could help it. Even though, like a sleazy guy you spend too much time talking to at a bar after a few drinks, her damn past just wouldn't leave her alone.

"beep do brruup."

Cadie sighed and rolled her green eyes, it took all she had to stop staring at the stars and one important planet in the viewscreen. "I know Junkie, I'm out of range. I haven't decided if I should land or not yet."

"be dooooooo dweet diddty doot."

"My aren't we chatty today?" She lifted her head but didn't move that boot, her hand scratching the back of her neck. "The fact that Cali would kill me should be reason enough huh?"

Tinker's squadron commander was not a fan of the reckless red-head's typical recreational activities. Her record in the navy was fairly clean but everyone knew that Cadie could drink most under the table and enjoyed testing that theory often. Cali made her promise when she became XO of Rhegent's to 'behave', and she tried. Had enough free time to practically rebuild the little orange and gray droid questioning her reasoning at the moment, and the ship she was hovering in.

It wasn't enough though. She thought it was, but then she heard the rumors. She always chalked it up to one drunk telling another a crazy ass story, but there she was staring at Osk91. Her parents had been merchants, nothing special in any way. They lived on their ship most of the time and seemed to never settle down, other than their three to seven day visits to Nar Shadda. They left her there one time, which wasn't too unusual, they did sometimes like their privacy and as she got a little older she finally figured out why. This time though, they never returned.

Her eyes glazed over a bit causing the stars to become hazy and send tangents of light shooting off in all directions across her field of vision. A faint screech which sounded like rubbery tires on a tarmac followed by a sharp pain in her calf shook her from her daze. "Ow, what the hell you bolt can!?!"

"Tweeep dobeet doo."

She glared at the little droid, her breathing heavy as she came to terms with the fact that she'd just been completely treated like a child by a R2 droid, one she built herself no less. "Oh fine, I owe you an oil bath." Her eyes turned back to the planet waiting patiently in the viewscreen. "Whatcha say Junkie? Up for some mischeif?" The droid made some sputtering noises as if he couldn't even find the bits of binary to form the words his processor was spitting out. "Yea, sure you are, let's go."

-------------~~--------------

"Well I've been in worse places."

Landing hadn't been a problem, there seemed to be many ships in the docking bay from her neck of the woods. Which made her cautious, the last thing she needed was Cali getting wind of her involvement here. Deep down though, she couldn't give a shit if it did get back to Abrae, she was getting tired of being told what to do with her down time.

A half naked woman laughed boisterously as she tripped over her dress and fell into some crates right in front of Cadie. "See Junkie, I'm not that bad."

"Be tuuuurrrrrrrrruuuuupppppp."

She stopped in her tracks and turned slowly to the droid, and had to force the smile away from her lips as he swiveled his head in a similar fashion daring her to disagree. "Pfft, everyone's a critic these days." Tinker turned on her heels and continued to walk towards the cantina for a much needed drink, it would appear she had a bit of catching up to do.

By the time she reached the door the cigar in her pocket was out, lit and soothing her frazzled nerves. At least she hadn't had to give up her smoking habit, that was a wise concession for her twi'lek commander to make. Nobody wanted to see her pissed off and coming down from the joyous nicotene that was all that was left in her life that kept her sane.

"Ooooooh baby! Come over here darlin' we going ta show ya a good time."

"Oh frak me." Cadie muttered under her breath. She glanced over at the two men and immediately cringed. Seriously could these ass holes once be decent looking. Tinker hated relationships, men were good for one night maybe two then it was time to move on before things got complecated. Everyone leaves eventually, and fighter pilots know they are dead already when they get in the cockpit, shakes the nerves off when you just accept that and get it over with.

Deciding not to draw this one out, Tinker didn't even try to lead the idiots on. She walked over in a rush, grabbed the bottle of ale out of the loud ones hand and drank it down, returning it to the bar with a slam. "Thanks." Her hand shot over and grabbed the man's throat. "Now leave me alone, shutta breath."

She stomped over to an empty chair far down the bar and returned her cigar to her mouth. The bartender eyed her suspiciously. "I'll have another one of those, whatever the sloppy ass is having. You can put it on his tab, if he says anything about that I'll be happy to explain things to him again."

Tinker turned in her chair to get a better view of the charming people of Osk91 and to wait for whatever was to come next. She had to admit that she was having more fun than she had had in ages and that finally brought a genuine smile to her face which she quickly drown in another of the surprisingly decent ales.
Master Chief Petty Officer Cadie "Tinker" Reese
XO|MCPO Tinker|A-2|S:153 "Rhegent's Reign"|W:58 "Javelin Wing"|VSD Dead Gun|TF:R|2FLT|SFC|VEN|VE|
(=A=)(=*SAE*=)[MC:1] [CO]
...Our Reign, Your Pain

PCW||PIRATE TINKER ||IRON VICTORY||OSK COMPANY
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[This message has been edited by Tinker (edited July 9, 2010 11:22:38 PM)]
Hunter-Morrell
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  RE: May the Wicked Never Know Rest (Prospectives)
July 10, 2010 12:48:22 AM    View the profile of Hunter-Morrell 
Hunter sighed and stopped where he was, looking around. He was standing on the side of a rather narrow street, lined with broken down buildings with rusted doors. In the distance, he could see a larger street running perpendicular to the one he was currently on. Shaking his head in frustration, he continued walking.

"Face it. You're lost." Hunter muttered to himself.

He was nearing the cross-section, when he spotted a very familiar person. A shock of red hair darted across in front of him, before disappearing behind the building on the other side of the road. Almost missing the small figure, Hunter did a double take and hurried around the corner. Finding the woman was easy. That red hair would stand out in any crowd. Figuring out if she was the person that Hunter was thinking she was, well, thats another story. Darting forward, he side-stepped people and slipped through the thin crowd, keeping his eye on the bobbing redhead. While he wasn't going to break out into a run, he did keep a bit of pep in his step. He certainly did have anything else to do and wanted to solve a mystery, even one that isn't really all that mysterious.

Soon enough, he had gotten about five meters away from her when she looked to the side and made an immediate turn down a small side street. Hunter was a bit puzzled as his first thought was that she had caught on and was aware that he was following her. But that makes no sense. There is no way that she could know that I was following her. Which means there is another reason she turned down that side street. While he was walking, he thought over it and figured out what it was when he caught sight of a cantina advertisement sign that pointed down the side street.

"Ah." he said softly to himself.

He turned and made his way down the side street. It had taken no more than a few seconds of wandering down the side street before he was cursing himself for not paying more attention to the ad. Not only did not know where exactly the cantina was, he didn't even know what it was called. Rubbing his temples, he mentally hit himself. Stopping, he looked around at all the signs and tried to remember the advertisement. Mainly because he was too lazy to walk back over to it and take another look. Failing to remember, he shrugged and decided to take them at random. Four cantinas and one accidental bar fight later, Hunter found the right one. Entering, he was immediately met with the dim light that contrasted sharply with the brightness outside.  Hunter had decided long ago that it was set up that way so that patrons could get a good look at the blinded newcomer before he/she could react. Or maybe it was just coincidental. Either way, I really need to get some good fucking sunglasses. As his eyes adjusted to the low light levels, he scanned the cantina,watching for potential trouble makers and looking for every exit, just in case. Then he swept his eyes over the bar and there, seated near the end of the bar, was his quarry. Making his way over, he slid into the seat next to her, noting that she didn't even bother to look at him before speaking up.

"I'm not interested, so leave me alone before forcibly remove something." Tinker said quickly.

"Oh. Is that anyone way to treat a friend?" Hunter said with a smirk, counting on her to recognize his voice.

And recognize it she did. With a small jerk, she snapped her head around and stared at him with questioning eyes. Hunter returned the stare for a few moments before taking a stab in the dark.

"I'm assuming you're worried that Cali sent me." he said, phrasing it more as a question than a statement.

Nodding, she still looked a little suspicious.

Hunter sighed, "Well, she didn't. So you can rest easy."

With that, Tinker's whole demeanor changed and the relief radiated off of her like heat waves.

"So what exactly are you doing here?"

"I had to get away." she replied, taking a couple gulps of whatever alcoholic drink she had sitting in front of her.

"More or less the same. Osk drew me in a like a fly to rotting garbage."

Tinker looked at him strangely before shaking her head and returning her attention to her drink.

"Thats a rather . . . colorful simile."

"Well. It certainly gets the point across."

Shrugging, Hunter waved the bartender over and ordered some water, scowling when the bartender's only move was to scrunch his face up in an odd look.

"No alcohol?" he asked, unsure.

"Nope. I don't drink the stuff. Again, water, if you will."

Still hesitant, the bartender reached under the counter and withdrew a glass, filling it full with water from a tap. Handing it over to Hunter, he returned to the other side of the bar, shooting quick and furtive glances at Hunter, who was actually amused by the man's behavior.

"Apparently, they don't get many non-alcoholics around here . . ." Hunter said with a grin, shaking his head in silent mirth.
NLO/CWO Hunter Morrell/W:1 "Javelin"/Atrus/TF:A/1Flt/SFC/VEN/VE
(=A=)(=SA=)(=ME=)(=*MAE*=) [CBV.][NS-1][SWC][BRC][VC:B][SoL][NSR]

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Everything is possible. But not everything is impossible.
Rocketman1167
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  RE: May the Wicked Never Know Rest (Prospectives)
July 10, 2010 6:54:10 AM    View the profile of Rocketman1167 
Rocket after hearing about a Men of Fortune band that was allies with The Vast Empire decieds that it would be a good idea to join because the Navy was starting to get to dull and so he gets a transport to the planet Eyesore, once the transport lands Rocket steps out and looks at what the information he found called The Locker what he saw was a bunch of shanties with a whole bunch of people moving all around the place.

Well I was not expecting something likes this I was expecting this place to be one building surrounded by a bunch or ships. Well enough standing around time to find someone that can tell me who the hell I need to talk to join this group.

Rocket starts to walk around the streets of the place, and starts to get followed by three people one a really tall one, the next one was fat, and the last one was short, what an old group those three make oh well if it’s a fight that they want than it’s a fight that they are going to get, Rocket decides to lead them down an alleyway so that whatever happens no one else would get hurt.

“So how long did you think you could follow me without me noticing you huh?”
“Don’t you think you are kind of young to be wondering around on your own kid?” The fat one said
“I am old enough to beat the hell out of you three here.”
“Why you little punk you are gonna pay for that.” The fat one said

Once he finishes saying that he charges Rocket who in turn kicks him in the face, which stops the fat one and he falls to the ground unconscious. Than the tall was goes to the left of him and the short one on the right, “so you gonna surround me know I forgot pirates don’t go by any codes pity I thought I would not have to hurt someone today oh well.” After Rocket gets done with saying that he sends a kick to the short one in the head and he falls, than Rocket turns to face the tall one, “now from where I am standing you have two options one run away, or two end up like your buddies over there it’s your choice.” After hearing those words and seeing his buddies on the ground the tall one takes off running from the alleyway hoping to get away from the kid that just took out his friends in a matter of seconds.

Rocket waits a couple of minutes to let his adrenalin go away and continues down the street and finds an ad for a cantina and decides that would be the best place to start looking for a person that can tell him where to go. When Rocket goes inside of the cantina he notices a familiar face a little too familiar for his liking.

So Hunter’s here too that can mean one of two things either he’s here to join to or he’s here to take me back, let’s just hope that it is the first reason and not the second one.

Rocket goes and sits down at the end of the bar hopping to not get noticed by him and tells the bartender to give him there strongest alcohol that they have.
There are many aspects of the Force we have no knowledge of. The subject still requires further research and study.

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Skarr
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Skarr
 
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  RE: May the Wicked Never Know Rest (Prospectives)
July 10, 2010 11:03:00 AM    View the profile of Skarr 
An audible groan passed through the crowd. Skarr looked at Jhevons in question, who only shrugged. Skarr looked back at Jaenna and Trix. They had no idea what was happening either.

"Oh, that's what," Jhevons murmured, "It's not the Pirate King. Poor soul that sent up the alarm gettin' it though." Skarr could only imagine what 'gettin' it' meant. After seeing the pirates' bar fight, it probably meant the man would be beaten mercilessly.

"I'm going to find a cantina, it doesn't look as if the meeting's starting anytime soon," Skarr announced. He didn't drink much, but he did fancy one every so often. Now seemed like a good time.

Skarr made his way out of the Locker, Jhevons walking behind him. Jaenna and Trix had decided to stay behind. Jhevons led him to a cantina, one that lay in a small alley.

"This 'un here is a gem," Jhevons said, "It's a bit realxin' inside. No trouble really." Skarr nodded and followed Jhevons inside. It was a much more quiet place inside. Most of the patrons sat by themselves or with others, quietly talking. The few people at the bar itself were talking quietly.

Jhevons nudged Skarr slightly with his elbow, "Those three at the bar." Jhevons pointed them out.

"Yeah, what about them?" Skarr asked.

"They're all yours," Jhevons replied, "They look different and hold themselves different." Skarr nodded, looking at the other patrons in the bar, he could spot the differences.

He walked up to the two who sat together. One was a red headed woman and the other was a rather cocky looking man.

"You guys VE?" Skarr asked. They both looked up, startled. The woman smiled and nodded.

She held out her hand, "I'm Tinker." Skarr took her hand and shook it. He proferred his hand to the man.

"Hunter," the man answered and shook Skarr's hand," And you are?"

"Norith Skarr," Skarr told them and sat down on the other side of Tinker.

"Barkeep, can I get a drink?"
TRP/LCP Skarr/2SQD/1PLT/1COM/1BAT/1RGT/VEA/VE/

"No flag or uniform has ever stopped a laser blast." -Skarr's mentor
"Abandon all hope ye who enter here" The Inferno, Canto III, Line 9
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Norith Skarr- Heavy Weapons Specialist
Good at blowing stuff up.
DeepSix
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  RE: May the Wicked Never Know Rest (Prospectives)
July 10, 2010 8:50:33 PM    View the profile of DeepSix 
[[I ain't sticking around Goldy. Damn place gives me the creeps each and every single time i get to see it up close.]]

Yes, well Seth could hardly blame the cautious female pilot for wanting to avoid this shithole. And that was putting it mildly too. It was after all the place that would inexplicably manage to draw out the worst that the galaxy had to offer. Beggars, runaways, hookers, drunks, junkies, thieves, smugglers, rapists, murderers, pirates - if you think it, Osk 91 surely had it. A perfect little den of scum and villainy where the cutthroat competition was always bloody. Strangely enough the place had a certain charm to some of its inhabitants. What could definitely be considered a dystopia by some given the poverty and the violence could oddly enough also be considered an utopia by others because in truth there was no other place in the galaxy where a citizen could be as free as on Osk 91. A costly freedom to be sure, but one that could be greatly exploited by those brave enough to come to this land of all opportunities.

"Don't worry sweetheart, i wouldn't dream of forcing a lady to wait for me on this dump. Just don't forget to come pick me up when i'm done here, okay?"

Having said that the Onderonian leaned in a bit and gave the woman a light kiss on the lips. The two had known each other for quite a number of years now and this wasn't the first time Seth was using the woman's services to reach certain destinations that would've made most pilots think twice or even thrice about. She was a brave little thing and Seth rather liked that about her. Then again he also liked the sense of danger and adventure he felt whilst in her company and well superficial as it may sound he also liked her body as well. Soft, creamy skin, piercing blue eyes and long, velvety blond hair that always smelled so damn good... Needless to say the two had shared a bed on more than one occasion though that never got in the way of business, nor did it ever change their relationship. They both knew it was just something to pass the time with in as fun a manner as possible. Her sweet taste still on his lips, Seth pulled back and smiled casually as he turned around and hopped out of the shuttle.

[[Remember Goldy - 12 hours and i expect you to meet me back here. Not gonna wait otherwise, y'hear?]]

We both know you would though. Likely even come searching should i take too long. That's what i like about you after all...

Of course Seth had no intention of exposing this truth. That was because the Onderonian did not want to ruin their relationship by stripping away the 'just business' mask that both of them happened to be more than happy to maintain for the time being. No, Seth would merely turn around and silently nod his head in understanding. He would remain there watching as the shuttle's hatch would close shortly before the ship's repulsor engines would send the craft into the air. Once his means of transportation would've finally left the planet's atmosphere Qorbin would begin heading towards the cantina. There he was supposed to meet with a scumbag he had some previous dealings with in the past and secure a transport of certain illegal commodities back to Rosh on Onderon.

[[You sir, could you spare a few credits for those less fortunate than you?]]

[[Hey handsome, wanna come inside for a good time?]]

[[The hell you looking at buddy? He a friend of yours or something?]]

The first question was asked by a sick looking beggar. It was obvious he wasn't eating properly but then again the uncontrollable shaking of his hand also made obvious the purpose of those required credits. The Onderonian passed him by without so much as sparing him another glance. Even if the guy hadn't been a pathetic junkie chances are Seth still wouldn't have given him anything though. If one can't raise himself above the crap that he has been thrown in then one deserves to rot in it - that was part of his life's philosophy.

The second question was asked by a scantily dressed twi'lek standing outside an establishment that given the bright colors and specific sounds coming from inside Seth could only determine was likely a brothel. He gave the twi'lek a smile and mentioned a "Perhaps later love" as he continued walking.

The third question was asked by a burly human that kept watch as two of his friends mercilessly kicked away at a helpless Mon Calamari lying on the ground. Now at this point Seth did consider blasting the three idiots away for trying to pick a fight with him but in the end decided against it. Nothing would've been gained because of it after all. Besides, it was hardly smart to start trouble on this blasted world. Come to think of it this was exactly the reason it was called Eyesore by others. Not that the name apparently changed anything as far as the inhabitants themselves were concerned...

Seth just continued walking, also lighting up a cigarette to wash away the nasty taste this damn place was leaving him with. Just minutes after that he was able to see the cantina he sought. A few bodies were being dragged from inside and thrown out like nothing more than regular trash. Not surprising considering how death was after all a common event here. Heck, chances were a local would be more surprised if a day would happen to go by without someone dying around him or some other very close member of his entourage. Avoiding stepping on the stiffs Qorbing made his way inside the establishment. Hmm, establishment was perhaps too good a description for the rundown building that just happened to provide cheap booze and crappy music to those courageous or perhaps stupid enough to come inside. After stopping for a second to check out the other patrons Seth made his way to one of the tables in the corner. A fat human, likely in his early forties, with a few golden teeth and absolutely reeking of alcohol was already seated there. The Onderonian just dropped down on the seat across.

"Hey Jonas, it's been a while. Not that this place seems to have changed since last time..."

[[Well, well if it isn't mister Goldmine himself. Heh, you just missed all the excitement...]]

"Actually i had to avoid stepping into this excitement as i came in. Come Jonas, you know i hate this place so why don't we go down to business? Have you got the stuff Rosh ordered?"

[[Always so blunt and straightforward... Then again, i rather like that in a man. Now about the shipment... sorry to say Goldmine but something came up. You see, Rosh's offer was great but in the meantime someone else made me an ever better offer. Here's the thing though - this other party needs it right away and it's obviously in my best interest to deliver it right away.]]

"Jonas, i should remind you that it is most unwise to double cross Rosh. Bad things tend to happen to those that screw with him. I make sure of that..."

[[It's as you say Goldmine and this is precisely why it pains me to do this...]]

The smuggler paused and three of the surrounding hoodlums turned and faced Seth with blasters pointed at his sides and back.

[[You see i wouldn't want to lose good ol' Rosh as a client. Then again i also don't want to miss out on this deal. The way i figure it Rosh will be pissed and send you to hunt me down if he hears about this. Then again if he doesn't hear about it and you should say happen to get into a tragic accident whilst coming to see me maybe he'll be distracted enough to grant me a little more time to resupply and that way i end up honoring his deal as well. I might even offer a five percent discount out of feeling guilty you know?]]

The Onderonian let out a loud sigh as he gently began shaking his head:

"There is a limit to just how much stupidity a single individual can amass. You Jonas apparently reached that limit. So? Am i to be executed here for all to see?"

[[No need for name calling Goldmine. And no, the boys here will take you for a walk and dispose of your corpse so that no links to me could ever be made.]]

"I see..."

Slowly getting up Seth put out his cigarette in the ashtray found on the table before turning to face his escorts.

"Well shall we get going then?"

His executors-to-be seemed a bit surprised and glanced over to Jonas who merely nodded his approval. Having their boss's confirmation one of the young fellows led the way outside the cantina whilst the other two followed behind Seth, their blasters still pointed at his back. They would all begin walking towards one of the many alleys nearby and that would be the moment in which Seth would begin subtly removing the whip around his waist. Since the thug leading had his back at him and the two behind him looked at his thighs to ensure his hands would never go for the blasters kept there it wasn't all that difficult a task.

"Hey, careful not to step in that thing..."

A most simple diversion, one that had the desired effect as the pirates around him lowered their heads to the ground in order to check out for the mysterious thing they were not supposed to step into. That moment was all Seth needed as he powered up his neuronic whip and turned to hit both his followers with it as he also began reaching for the blaster strapped on his left thigh. Since the whip was specially modified to help deal with drexls it was no surprise that the hit humans appeared temporarily stunned by the passing currents of electricity. It was a quite lovely sight to behold actually. A tad sadistic perhaps considering that after those currents would begin fading all that would remain would just be pain. Excruciating pain to be precise...

Luckily or perhaps unlikely for them they would never really get to experience the full amount of it. No, after shooting the pirate leading them all just as he was turning to check on the commotion Seth would fire two more shots, ending the misery of the shocked dirtbags. Powering down his whip and strapping it back around his waist the Onderonian would start walking back towards the cantina, his blaster still out and firmly gripped in his left hand. He would re-enter the so called establishment - something that would raise a few eyebrows from the other patrons that happened to notice the way he was escorted out only minutes ago. The other patrons however weren't the ones that Seth was coming for though. No, the fat and rapidly paling double crossing smuggler still sitting down at his table was.

[[Goldmine let's not do anything rash...]]

He began speaking in a shaky voice as Seth was calmly taking a seat - the same one he happened to get up from before he ended up exercising his trigger finger.

[[I know you must be pissed but think about it Goldmine, i can still be useful to you...]]

Seth would remain silent as he would continue coldly staring at the pathetic human in front of him. He would also continue pointing his blaster at him from beneath the table so as not to alarm any of the other patrons.

[[C'mon Goldmine you've known me for a while now and this is the first time i've ever wronged you. Think back at all our successful deals...]]

The Onderonian would reach inside his jacket's inner pocket - a gesture that would cause Jonas to flinch - and remove the pack of Lung Blasters there. He would give it a light shake causing a cigarette to almost come out. Qorbin would pull it between his lips as his hand would then move to find the lighter next.

[[Goldmine, that shipment you came for - it's yours. Fifty percent discount even...]]

"Shut the hell up."

Taking a drag of his now lit cigarette Seth continued:

"Here's how this will work out Jonas. The shipment you just mentioned? It reaches Rosh the way it was previously agreed upon. It will reach him at an eighty percent discount. In addition all further dealings with him will also end up ten percent cheaper. Should any of his guys happen to suffer any accidents whilst dealing with you then i'll be back and shove this blaster up your huge ass and begin firing it. You can take this deal Jonas, get up and walk away... or you can start praying to whatever deity a lowlife like you might believe in. I'll give you that much at the very least because of our past dealings you mentioned. What will it be Jonas?"

[[Goldmine i knew you were a man of reason. You have to understand though that eighty percent would severely...]]

"Jonas, that was not negotiable. You either take the deal i'm offering or you don't have to worry about such things ever again. So what will it be?"

[[Alright, alright. I'll make the necessary arrangements. Rosh will get his shipment on time and at only twenty percent of the original cost. You have my word Goldmine.]]

"Your word hardly weighs anything anymore Jonas. I suggest you get up now and start making those things possible. Before you might start getting other ideas that would end up in me keeping the promise i just made you."

[[Sure Goldmine, no problem here. I'll go make sure everything goes smoothly. Don't worry, i've learned my lesson here.]]

Having said that the fat and sweaty human got up to his feet and quickly made his way out. After seeing him off Seth also got up and sheathed his blaster. Moving over to the bar he motioned for the bartender:

"A shot of Tihaar."

They definitely served it because this sort of place was guaranteed to attract a few Mandalorian mercs aiming to get a few easy credits doing what they knew best. It wouldn't likely be as great as the real stuff served on Mandalore for instance, but it should technically be at least similar enough in taste and well that was all that really mattered...
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Atoll
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Atoll
 
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  RE: May the Wicked Never Know Rest (Prospectives)
July 11, 2010 9:41:52 AM    View the profile of Atoll 
"So... this is the place, is it?"

"Hmm, keep going."

Noose looked out of the window of the gliding ship. They were a few thousand feet above the ground and Eyesore was sprawled out beneath them. Wastelands and crater fields. This place certainly matched the description. But where was the Locker?

"This place is a shithole." His pilot said.

"I know, it's brilliant, isn't it?" Noose smiled.

The pilot glanced at him oddly. "Why the frak are you going here?"

"Business."

"...What business?"

"I didn't pay you to ask questions."

"You didn't pay me at all!"

"Oh... yes. I'll give it to you when we touch down. Just keep going."

The pilot grumbled angrily, fiddling with a few switches above his head, but kept going. Noose was lucky to have found him. Not many travellers would be prepared to go this far out. Most, if they came at all, would have just thrown him out by now, with little more than a farewell and a parachute. He won't be so charitable when he figures out I have no credits, Noose thought uneasily. Hmm, best to just avoid that subject until we land.

"Is that it?" The pilot grunted.

"Is what it?"

"That." The pilot pointed, out of the cockpit. When Noose followed his finger, he smiled. The pilot was pointing at what seemed like an incredibly old, derelict military base. The Locker.


* * *


"Bloody pilots." Noose muttered to himself angrily, nursing his bleeding lip. He strode through the dilapedated streets of the Locker, mumbling incoherantly and, to his surprise, not recieving the looks of puzzlement and curiousity from other people that he usually got when walking through the streets with an injury. Instead, most of them just ignored him. To them, he was just another drunk coming from a bar fight. That was a delightful change. He looked around and saw more people nursing injuries as well. He saw drunks, raving to themselves and stumbling through the streets. He saw every type of misfit and troublemaker possible. And it was strangely comforting, despite the fact that there was murderers and rapists free to roam. Everyone was welcome here, from the lowliest begger to the richest of men. Everyone was welcome here. Even that frakking pilot.

When Noose had politely said that he didn't have credits, the man flew into a rage and punched him. Quite hard. He had managed to escape afterwards, but that didn't alter the fact that the man had given him a fat lip. I'm going to need to learn how to fly, Noose thought ruefully.

"Hey baby. Fancy a good time?" A skimpily dressed woman said to him as he walked past what was obviously a brothel of some kind.

"Not in the mood, love." He said, pushing past her.

Ugh, I need a drink. He looked around for a cantina, spotting one immediately. This seemed like the place where there was no shortage of them. He walked into the bar, taking a seat beside a tall, burly man who was drinking what seemed to Noose as syrup.

The man chuckled at him. "You seem like you had quite a day."

Noose grunted. "Tell me about it. You don't happen to be a pilot, do you?"

"As a matter of fact, yes. In a way."

"Oh, great."

"So, whatcha here for?"

"Business. And none of yours."

"Alright, alright. If I'm allowed to ask, what's your name?"

"Noose."

"Noose? Got a surname?"

"Nope. Yours?"

"Seth. Seth Qorbin."

"Well, good to meet ya, Seth. Even if you are a frakking pilot."

He nodded to the bartender. "Gimme the strongest thing you've got."
TRP/PSC Atoll/2SQD/1PLT/1COM/1BAT/1RGT/Tadath/VEA/VE

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"There is a use for everything. Even pain" - Unknown
Quillia
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  RE: May the Wicked Never Know Rest (Prospectives)
July 11, 2010 5:38:22 PM    View the profile of Quillia 
The freighter touched down on the outskirts of The Locker. The ramp lowered and Ali'shrae Quillia stepped off, with her bag over her shoulder.

So this is The Locker, She thought to herself. It's a bit more run down then I would've figured.

She headed off perusing the local shops. She was in a shop looking at an assortment of various weapons when the overpowering smell of alcohol came over her.

"You lookin' for work gargeous?" Asked the large man reeking of alcohol.

"Depends on the work." Quillia replied.

"People 'round here would pay a lot of creds to watch you dance."

Quillia handed the shopkeeper two credit chips and took a modestly sized knife and slid it in her belt.

"Not interested." Quillia turned and started walking away. She felt a heavy hand on her shoulder.

"You can't tell me no, do you know who I am?" He asked her.

"I neither know, nor do I care." She replied jerking away from him.

"Stupid girl. I have the death sentence in twelve systems." He said while yanking her back by her long red hair.

She kicked backwards striking him in the knee, then she spun around striking him in the throat. He crumpled to the ground gasping and sputtering for air.

"Touch me again, and all twelve systems will get a piece of you." She walked off leaving him crumpled on the ground.

Now it's definitely time for a drink. She thought to herself. She wandered around until she found herself in one of the more reputable cantinas. She walked up to the bar and got the keeper's attention.

"Whatcha need?" The barkeeper asked.

"Corellian Whiskey, leave the bottle." She flipped the barkeeper some credits as he poured her first glass. She grabbed her glass, and the bottle, and headed to an empty booth where she kicked her feet up on the table and took a sip of whiskey.

I could get used to this. She thought to herself, as a commotion broke out near the entrance.

Things just got interesting. She thought to herself, watching the man she had left incapacitated earlier accompanied by a woman and male Twi'lek. Quillia put her glass down on the table, and loosened her knife in her belt.

"There she is!" Exclaimed the man from earlier, pointing at Quillia.

"That little girl is who got the best of you eh?" Asked the woman.

"Aye Simone, that's be her."

"Tar-breath you truly are an incompetent whelp aren't you?" Simone asked before turning her attention to Quillia.

"Listen here toots," Simone began, "I can't have you beating up on my mates, irregardless if he deserved it or not. So now, the four of us are going to go outside and have a chat."

"Firstly," Quillia began, "don't call me toots, or any other condescending name you can think of, my name is Ali'shrae Quillia. Secondly, I'm not going anywhere with the likes you. If we've got something to talk about, we can talk right here."

"Fine, have it your way." Simone replied, gesturing to the two men to grab Quillia.

Ali'shrae grabbed the bottle of brandy by the neck and in the same motion, broke it over Tar-breath's head, sending him to the floor in a heap. The Twi'lek took a step backwards to avoid getting sliced by the broken liquor bottle. Simone pulled a small knife from her belt and lunged at Quillia, who slid sideways in her seat neatly avoiding the lunge. Ali'shrae jammed the remainder of the bottle into Simone's side leaving it partially embedded in her side, before kicking Simone off of being on top of her.

Quillia stood up from the table and rifled through Simone's pockets coming across a few credit chips. She tossed the chips to the barkeeper.

"This should cover cleanup, and another bottle of whiskey." She told the barkeep. She turned her attention to the Twi'lek.

"I think you had better take your friends and not come bother me again, you understand?"

The twi'lek nodded and helped his two friends leave the bar.

Quillia walked over to the bar and grabbed her fresh bottle of whiskey and headed to a fresh booth.

I could definitely get used to it here. She thought to herself pouring herself a fresh drink.
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DeepSix
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  RE: May the Wicked Never Know Rest (Prospectives)
July 14, 2010 12:55:56 AM    View the profile of DeepSix 
This damn place makes even a great drink taste like crap...

It was Seth's first impression after having taken a sip from what was definitely an improperly cleaned glass. Then again such things hardly bothered the Onderonian anymore. It wasn't like he himself was some stuck up important fellow that was only used to the best of things in life. Oh, far from it... Raising his glass again Seth began lightly shaking the liquid inside it. There was something oddly relaxing seeing the clear liquid trying to escape its unfit container. For a moment Seth thought himself to be just like that liquid. Incapable of escaping his surroundings, incapable of closing his eyes and living peacefully in blissful ignorance, bound to end up consumed by someone else yet even so still struggling against it all. Struggling... ever struggling.

I'm not even drunk yet i somehow end up thinking such useless things... Wonder if it's this place making me feel so nostalgic?

Trying to shake off his thoughts the Onderonian took another sip. Oddly enough it seemed to taste slightly better this time around. Since that couldn't actually be true Qorbin knew he was the one likely adapting by lowering his standards. Well, so long as it was only temporary and it would allow him to at least try and enjoy the remaining of his drink what was the harm in that? It was right about then that another fellow took a seat right next to him. Seth of course didn't quite appreciate the invasion of personal space but considering the location he could hardly hold it against the other male.

Maybe it was because of the drinking but for some reason Seth decided to talk with the other human. The more he talked to the other guy the more however the Onderonian thought he was likely yet another showoff that came to Eyesore thinking he was some badass that could take on anything and everything this place could throw at him. It was a reasonable assumption considering his overall attitude - the way he figured that his business was all important and stuff, his name apparently something required to be kept shrouded in mystery and the cliche way in which he ordered for the strongest drink. So macho... and so unimpressive at the same time. Especially considering that the strongest drink a human could likely endure was not likely also the strongest drink that this place had to offer, meaning a single shot of some weird alien gooey crap could just put an end to the young human right then and there. The bartender however wouldn't likely make such a mistake without being paid beforehand though.

Ordering a second round for himself the Onderonian turned around on his bar stool in order to get a better view on the action taking place in yet another corner of the cantina. This place is never dull that's for sure. That is what Qorbin thought as he watched a group of three enter and pick on some human female patron that entered not too long ago. The Onderonian couldn't clearly get everything that was being said but he could for the most part get the big picture however. A single gesture from the female accompanying the two other hoods and the action began unfolding before his eyes. A picked up bottle, a bloody skull and eventually the leftovers of that bottle sticking out from the side of what Seth assumed was likely the brains and not just the looks of the small three men cell. Good thing i didn't blink else i may have missed it all...

As Seth continued enjoying his Tihaar he also kept watching the lone victor proceed to looting her fallen adversary before using that very money to buy herself a new bottle of whatever it was that she originally planned on having. Now that was beautiful - lowlife sense of justice. At least that is what Seth figured it was seeing how the human girl didn't try to rob the others as well and even allowed the one still standing to pick up the defeated two and take them away. An interesting specimen...

Downing the remaining of his drink Seth got up and took a few steps towards the exit. Before the bartender would have a chance to call him Seth turned around and motioned first to himself and then to the human that had introduced himself as Noose. It wasn't that the Onderonian couldn't have paid the two drinks he had but rather he just felt like having the macho wannabe do it on his behalf. Either he would pay up and thus feel like crap for having his ego hurt my another or refuse to pay which would likely end up in another fight. Should the human survive it then his confidence in himself would increase, something that might even help him forget about the whole reason for the fight in the first place. And should he lose well then he would at least understand a very important lesson - that there is always someone better out there. Satisfied with those excuses Seth proceeded to leave the cantina. His next destination was an information broker so chances weren't as high of him getting in trouble this time around. Then again this was the Locker so everything was possible...
FM/SCRW DeepSix/Γ-3/S:153 Rhegent's Reign/W:58 Javelin/VSD Dead Gun/TF:R/2Flt/SFC/VEN/VE
Skarr
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  RE: May the Wicked Never Know Rest (Prospectives)
July 14, 2010 2:55:46 PM    View the profile of Skarr 
Skarr sat and slowly sipped at his drink. He had no idea what it was, but it was what Jhevons had asked for and the older man didn't seem to have any troubles with it. Skarr had barely talked to Hunter and Tinker, they quietly conversed with each other. But with some slight eavesdropping, Skarr found out they were both Navy and knew each other well. After that Skarr didn't say anything.

"So, Jhevons. Could there be any reason they're delaying the meeting," Skarr asked.

Jhevons looked at Skarr critically, wrinkles creased. "Could be that they're testin' you. Or they're busy doin' nothing at all, and don't wished t' be bothered." Skarr smiled at that, he thought it was probably the latter.

Skarr had only heard slight rumors about Osk Company while in the barracks. They were apparently an unofficial branch of the VE military or so Skarr had heard. Either way, the Osk Company seemed to help the VE more than hurt it. He had heard utterings about the Pirate King that made Skarr respect him.

He looked around the almost silent bar and sighed. He hated being kept waiting, there had to be something he could do. Skarr felt tense and alert. He was sure he'd get used to the feeling soon enough, but it unsettled him being in this unfamiliar place. He wanted nothing more than to have a weapon in his hand, but knew he couldn't do that. He would probably be shot for that.

Skarr stood and placed a credit chip on the bar to pay for his drink. He nodded to Hunter and Tinker and exited the bar. Jhevons followed him, he seemed to like following Skarr. He wasn't much of a tour guide though, he didn't seem to know much about the Locker.

"Why don't you seem to know anything about this place?" Skarr asked, tentatively.

Jhevons moved his shoulders up and down. "The place is constantly changing." That seemed to be the only answer Jhevons could give, so Skarr let the matter drop. People stared at him, eyes almost accusing. The peopls seemed loathe to deal with Skarr, almost as if he were a dangerous predator that had walked into their nest and they didn't know what to do with it yet.

The few who were brave enough to speak to Skarr, tried peddling their wares. Skarr refused everything that was being offered, even the women who threw themselves at him. He rolled his eyes, he wasn't here to buy. He laughed everytime someone tried to sell him weapons, being careful to keep his weapons concealed under his black duster. He didn't want people knowing exactly what he was carrying.

Skarr continued looking around, surveying the dilapidated military base. He couldn't make head nor tail of the place, but he was intent on knowing his way around at least in some way. It wouldn't do well to have to escape this place for any reason and not know his way out.
TRP/LCP Skarr/2SQD/1PLT/1COM/1BAT/1RGT/VEA/VE/

"No flag or uniform has ever stopped a laser blast." -Skarr's mentor
"Abandon all hope ye who enter here" The Inferno, Canto III, Line 9
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Norith Skarr- Heavy Weapons Specialist
Good at blowing stuff up.
Amacuse
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Amacuse
 
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  RE: May the Wicked Never Know Rest (Prospectives)
July 14, 2010 3:36:44 PM    View the profile of Amacuse 
Cayden entered what resembled a weapon store and began browsing the shelves.  Interesting... not many slug-throwers out here... too bad... he thought as he walked up o the front counter.

"Can I help you, soldier boy?" the store owner, a human female wearing what Cayden thought was a heavily modified combat suit, said, walking over to the register.

"Actually, yes... I was wondering if you carried any slug-thrower ammunition for an M-590 Assault Rifle," he said, thumbing through the weapon catalogs.

"I'll go check in back for ya, sweetie," she said, winking at him.

She headed into the rear storeroom as Cayden looked at some of the weaponry on the walls.  All illegally modified... at least, by Onderonian regulations he thought, picking up a blaster rifle.  Light weight frame... easy to replace energy packs... and easy to shoulder... wonder how she fires...  He was about to pull the trigger when he heard the store owner returning, and quickly put the blaster back on it's rack.

"You're in luck.  I just so happen to have a crate of 7.62 rounds left.  It'll be... 3000 credits," she said, ringing it up on the register.

"Damn... expensive ammo... here..." he said, transferring 3000 credits from his account to the store.

"Thank you, Mr... Tavers, is it?" she asked, smiling.

"Please, call me Cayden," he said, returning the smile.

She smiled again and said "Alright Cayden, I should have your purchase ready in a few days."

"Perfect.  I guess since I'll be here a while, do you have a place that I can stay?" Cayden asked, leaning on the counter.

She smiled again, wider than ever before, and said "I have an extra room in my apartment here."

Heh... stranger things have happened... he thought as he said "I think I'd like that."

"Oh, by the way, my name is Sha'ra Jackson," Sha'ra said, sitting on top of the counter.

"Sha'ra... I like the way that name sounds... say, have you ever considered leaving Osk 91?" Cayden asked, smiling.

"Occasionally, but... I'd miss it too much," she said, rubbing the counter top.

"I see what you mean..." he responded distantly.  "Hey, I'm going to walk around for a bit, explore the city and such.  I'll be back around 1700 hours."

"Alright.  Be safe, Cayden," Sha'ra said, smiling.

He smiled back and said "Will do, ma'am."  He exited the store, then started walking back towards the Cantina.  I'll probably get an ear-full from Ashley for that... but hey, it had to be done.  I needed a place to stay, and she's willing to let me stay in a spare room... I just hope the cost for said room isn't too high... he thought, tightening his grip on his rifle.

He entered the Cantina and saw a familiar face that made him smile.  He walked up to the man talking to a woman at the bar and said.  "Well, well, well... if it isn't Hunter Morrell... isn't this a treat?  I never thought I'd find a pilot from the Vast Empire here, let alone the honorable Hunter Morrell," he said, smiling.

"Cayden... this is an unexpected surprise.  What are you doing here?" Hunter asked, sipping his water.

"Plunder, riches, salvage, and adventure... especially the salvage and plunder, sir," Cayden said, sitting down next to his old SC.  "Oh, I'm Cayden, by the way.  Cayden Tavers."  He held his hand out for Tinker to shake.

"Tinker," she said, shaking it.  "I remember you... you're the one who faced Will in the training exercise."

Cayden smiled and said "That was me... you must be from Rhegent's, right?"

"Yes I am," Tinker said.

"Ah, cool," he said, waving the barkeep over.  "Can I get a water, please?"

"You again?" he asked, surprised.  "You're not going to shoot up the place, are you?"

Cayden smiled and said "No sir, I am not.  I am, however, wishing I had a water in front of me."

The barkeep sighed and pulled out an glass.  He filled it with the familiar liquid Cayden drank earlier and handed it to him.  "Enjoy," he said, returning to his duties.

Cayden turned around in his seat and looked out onto the people, and smiled.  Somehow... it feels like I'll enjoy it here... he thought, sipping his blood-colored-and-consistent water.
Senior Chief Petty Officer Cayden "Amacuse" Tavers

FM/SCPO Amacuse/Γ-2/S:26 Tuk'ata/W:58 Javelin/VSD Dead Gun/TF:R/2FL/SFC/VEN/VE (=AE=) (=*SAE*=) [IG]

FL/SCPO Amacuse/B-1/S:137 Raptor/W:46 Defiance/ PLF Saratoga/TF:TH/3FL/SFC/VEN/VE (=AE=) (=*SAE*=) [IG]
Atoll
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Atoll
 
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  RE: May the Wicked Never Know Rest (Prospectives)
July 15, 2010 8:15:01 AM    View the profile of Atoll 
"Oi, you." A voice said from behind the counter. Noose looked up slowly. He knew that tone of voice. The voice wanted him to pay up. No doubt it was the bartender. Noose quickly began thinking of excuses.

"Yes?" He asked casually.

"You'll be paying for two drinks, so--"

"Two drinks?!" Noose swerved around in his chair, discovering that the man he had met before had exited and put his drink on Noose's tab. "Frakking pilots." He muttered under his breath before turning to the bartender again.

"Well now. You see..." The bartender was still staring at him, his hand slowly edging behind the bar. Oh for... why does everyone in this godforsaken place have a bloody gun, Noose thought angrily as he began to rise from his chair as slowly as possible. The bartender reacted by pulling a pistol from in front of him.

"Just pay up, scum." The bartender growled, letting the pistol rest on the counter threateningly. Noose had a pistol of his own, but if he pulled it out and began firing, every misfit from the entire Locker would join in. Already, the entire bar was staring at the two of them. Even a fist fight at the moment would be a bad idea.

"Well, you see... I don't have any credits..." Noose replied weakly. The bartender wasn't surprised.

"Hmph. Well, you willing to work it off?"

"If that would allow me to keep my skin, why not?" Noose exclaimed jovially. That was something he was not expecting. He was sure he was going to have to run. A few disappointed groans echoed out from behind him from the patrons of the bar as they knew that their entertainment for the day wasn't going to happen. They turned back to their drinks and began talking to their mates of ever decreasing sobriety about whatever drunk brigands talk about. The bartender meanwhile had begun telling Noose what he had to do to pay off two drinks worth of credits.

"There's this guy in another bar, one of my main competitors. I want you to kill him--"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. Kill him? For two drinks?"

"I could always kill you." The bartender said darkly.

"...Good point. I'll be back in a while." He began walking outside the bar, angrily making a mental note. Never trust a pilot.

"Don't take too long." The bartender called after him. Noose smiled and walked in to the nearby bar, where he noticed two men and a woman chatting animately near the end of the bar. He walked up to the barkeep.

"Listen, I have nothing against you. But some guy wants me to kill you." The barkeep paled. "No, no, no. I don't want to. But if I could have a lend of a few credits, I might be able to pay him off."

"How much?" The barkeep said quickly, obviously a little cowardly.

Noose chuckled. "Just enough to pay off a few drinks." The barkeeps eyes widened in surprise, then he pulled a few credits from some concealed part of the counter. Noose swooped them up and walked back to his old buddy. The bartender raised his eyebrows questioningly when he saw Noose walking into the bar so quickly after leaving it. His hand darted to the pistol again.

This was where chance came into the game. If the bartender was of the honourable sort, he would accept the credits and let Noose go off scot-free, his debt being settled. If not, he would take the credits, probably shoot Noose for not killing the man (or turn him around and make him actually do it). Noose didn't especially like killing. Killing in self-defence, he could do. Killing because of orders, likewise. But murder? No, he didn't like that. It seemed, despite his efforts to distance himself from people, he still had his own little moral code.

But Noose was a bit of a gambling man. He liked a few close calls, a gamble. And he judged that this particular bartender was of the honourable crowd, even though he had tried to get someone to kill his competition. Noose supposed that's what he was driven to in the humble, friendly neighbourhood of Osk91.

Noose dropped the credits on the counter. "I guess now we're even." He said confidently, despite being quite the contrary. The bartender stared at Noose impassively. Noose was trying to determine whether he was angry or something else. If he started shooting, he would have to risk a gunfight.

"Fine." The bartender said gruffly. "But leave quickly, before I change my mind."

"Righto, mister." Noose chirped happily. He walked out of the bar, making his way back to the other, deciding that he needed another drink after all that hard work. If he was lucky, the barkeep mind be so grateful that he might let Noose have one on the house. And everyone loves a free drink.
TRP/PSC Atoll/2SQD/1PLT/1COM/1BAT/1RGT/Tadath/VEA/VE

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"There is a use for everything. Even pain" - Unknown
Tinker
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Tinker
 
[VE-ICS] Pirate Swabbie
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  RE: May the Wicked Never Know Rest (Prospectives)
July 17, 2010 7:15:25 PM    View the profile of Tinker 
Flyboys. I come all the way out here to be surrounded by flyboys.

Tinker grimaced at her cig as she flicked some ash into the air before returning it to her mouth. Hunter and Cayden continued to chatter away next to her. They talked about the cantina, the navy, life, and god knows what else after she tuned them out. She just couldn't find the energy to care beyond the fact that she really didn't want to hear from Cali.

Chewing on the cig she pushed off the bar and started to walk around. The place reeked of smells she couldn't identify and frankly didn't want to. She had spent her life crawling around in engines and still the particular musk created by drunken idiots and dust she could not find appealing. The drinking helped, and it had been so very long since she had a nice strong drink. Being an XO in the navy seemed to only cramp her style. This place could smell however it pleased as long as some of the old Tinker got to come out and play.

She tried to pin point the exact moment she stopped caring in her life. The easy answer was when her parents went missing, who was she kidding they were dead at this point. That was just too convenient though, that was everyones answer when there was a tragedy. Oh this bad thing that I had no control over happened, now I'm going to blame everything bad that happens i my life on it. It was the easy way out, an excuse, and she hated excuses.

The truth was far more complex, as it always was. Cadie had always had a problem doing what she was told. She loved being on all kinds of new places and dealing with people her parents traded with, of course, she also tended to get herself into trouble. Even as a small child she tended to do the opposite of what she was told to do. As a teenager she became more adventurous and took advantage of her parents busy schedule in ports.

The day they didn't return from what should have been a routine drop off, she may have become even more self-destructive but it wasn't anything she wouldn't have already done in the first place. Or so she kept telling herself.

"You lost, red?"

Tinker frowned and and looked down at woman who looked to be in her forties, which was fairly old considering where she was. The woman had her leg propped up on the adjacent chair and was casually smoking her own cig which looked longer and far more expensive than what Tink was able to afford. She downed the last of her whiskey and called a young man over whispering something in his ear and sending him off. Her eyes returned to Cadie with the brows raised waiting for an answer.

"Heh, no. What's it your business? Huh?"

The woman laughed so hard she had to lean over and hold her stomach, her blondish-gray hair falling to cover her face. She was still sputtering as the young man returned with two double shots of whiskey and she winked in response as he placed them on the table. "What do they call you back where that tough girl bull shit works on people?"

Cadie frowned and debating going on full defensive and denying that it was an act. "Tinker, they call me Tinker. And that's the VE Navy, I'm XO of-"

"Let me just stop you there Tinky. All that shit you put on your resume doesn't mean a damn thing around here. You keep that chip restin' on your shoulder your face will be plastered to his floor for days." The woman took a long drag from her cig and returned her head to its cocked position as she looked Cadie over. "Kressel."

Tinker started to search through the database in her head for the meaning of the word the woman used, it sounded like a curse so she liked it, but couldn't fathom why she hadn't heard it before. She prided herself on knowing the main curse words in every language she came across. "Its my name, flygirl." Cadie rolled her eyes and resisted the urge to facepalm.

"Here sit, take the drink. I mean I didn't aim to drink two but I certainly can." Cadie smirked and slowly sat. She nodded as she took the small glass from Kressel. "Tinky I can't speak to ye for long, its bad for the rep to be seen with noobs." She scowled and was quickly scolded for that. "Dontcha get that look on yer face now. You may be hot shit in a TIE fighter but you are nothing but a glorified swabbie around here. Keep your head low and use that brain that I figure is in there. All of you noobs are the same, come in here balls to the walls trying to be tough, you'll be eaten alive."

Cadie nodded and downed the whiskey, lightly putting the glass back on the table.  Kressel was right, everyone including Tink had come in trying to prove something but had succeeded in what? Nothing, that's what. "Okay, I'll keep it in mind Kressel."

"Good, now get your noob ass away from my table." Kressel smirked but her eyes made it clear that Cadie needed to shove off and now. She could see the army fellow who had appeared at the bar, Skarr if she remembered right, he was exiting the bar. Well I guess if it has to be a VE person at least they don't have to be in the navy for now. Cadie increased her pace to catch up to the man, whatever he was up to had to be more fun than the cantina and at least as informative.
Warrant Officer 2nd Class Cadie "Tinker" Reese
XO|WO2 Tinker|A-2|S:153 "Rhegent's Reign"|W:58 "Javelin Wing"|VSD Dead Gun|TF:R|2FLT|SFC|VEN|VE|
(=A=)(=*SAE*=)[MC:1] [CO]
...Our Reign, Your Pain


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Skarr
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Skarr
 
[VE-ARMY] Lance Corporal
[VE-ICS] Pirate Swabbie
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  RE: May the Wicked Never Know Rest (Prospectives)
July 18, 2010 10:57:53 AM    View the profile of Skarr 
Skarr looked tentatively around once again. People were now staring at him with contempt. He didn't know what changed. Maybe it was the nervous way he was looking around. Skarr started to reach into his duster, but a firm hand gripped his arm.

Jhevons was shaking his head, "Do you wanna start a riot, boy?" Skarr shook his head and forced himself to stop reaching for his blaster.

"Let's go, they won't attack you. Jus' don't provoke them," Jhevons said.

"Are you kidding? They'd kill me for a drink." Skarr growled. He continued down the street. As he did, he observed many things that disturbed him. Brutal beatings, muggings, killings. And no one stopped to help any of them. Jhevons told him not to stare, but Skarr couldn't help it.

He began to doubt his motives. Skarr didn't think helping the VE in this way was worth it. There was too much going on. Too much stuff to handle.

"Was I right in coming here?" Skarr asked.

Jhevons shrugged, "Why did you come here?" Now that was a tough question. Skarr was about to answer that he had wanted to help the Vast Empire in a different way, but he stopped himself. There had to have been something else.

"I don't know," Skarr replied. What was his purpose in coming here? That would be something he'd have to learn. "But I'm going to stay here until I know why."

Jhevons nodded approvingly, "You tend to find yerself in this place." Skarr looked at another beating that was happening in a small alleyway.

"I'm not going to be like them," Skarr said. He wouldn't partake in the drinking or the senseless beatings or thievery.

"Ya don't have to. Jus' remember there are people who want you to do this," Jhevons said, waving his arm to indicate the whole city-like structure.

Skarr nodded, he knew that. "Well, they better point me to the right people."
TRP/LCP Skarr/2SQD/1PLT/1COM/1BAT/1RGT/VEA/VE/

"No flag or uniform has ever stopped a laser blast." -Skarr's mentor
"Abandon all hope ye who enter here" The Inferno, Canto III, Line 9
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Norith Skarr- Heavy Weapons Specialist
Good at blowing stuff up.
Bacredi
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Bacredi
 
[VE-ARMY] First Sergeant
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  RE: May the Wicked Never Know Rest (Prospectives)
July 21, 2010 12:40:25 AM    View the profile of Bacredi 
Zhar Bacredi, who hadn’t flown in years, heaved his Y-Wing through space, heading on a slow course towards the planet ‘Eyesore’. He had been able to pay a cruise liner that was leaving Bacredi’s residence—Lianna—for the planet Tholdan, which is about three days away from Eyesore, and let Bacredi release his Y-Wing once they stop. Bacredi had stopped at three planets and stayed in the trashiest hotels he could ever imagine. He had finally made it into the Thilidian Sector, only to find planets that looked like they had been involved in nuclear war and others that looked like human excrement.

The Y-Wing curved in a slow, well rounded arc as it was making its way through Eyesore’s atmosphere. The Y-Wing slowed down steadily as it headed for its target: the Locker. From satellite views that Bacredi had examined on his descent, the hangar appeared to be on the western side of ‘the Locker’, while other buildings seemed to be massed to the east of the hangar. Bacredi let his R3-series astromech take control of the fighter from Bacredi. The R3 unit brought the Y-Wing into the surprisingly well kept hangar, which might just of looked well kept due to the dilapidated state of the rest of the town.

“Thanks, R3, power ‘er down.” Bacredi braced as the Y-Wing dropped closer the ground, its supports barely holding the weight. He popped the cockpit open and pulled a lever that was under his seat. A small set of stairs began to unfold itself off of the side of the Y-Wing, and Bacredi stepped down the stairs, going towards the back of his Y-Wing to grab his bag. As he was reaching for the bag, his back cracked and his eyes began to water with pain. “I fucking hate flying.”

—— —— ——


Bacredi had left his Y-Wing locked up in the hangar with R3 guarding it, and had wandered to the eastern side of the town. He looked at the door of a medium-sized cantina, practically gagging at the sight of blood and other excrement on the door. He pushed the door open with a handkerchief in hand. As he looked around the inside of the bar, he saw people of all races, most of them looking down on their luck. Something that he also felt.

In the past few weeks Bacredi had lost something near 30 million credits in the stock market and other investments. This caused Bacredi to be forced to make major cutbacks in the way he lived, and as he was getting ready to close shop someone told him about Osk. Bacredi approached the innkeeper and purchased a room, far overpriced for the dilapidated state of the city and cantina.

—— —— ——


Bacredi walked out from his room to enter the bar, and as soon as he entered he heard raised voices coming from a far table. It appeared as if the two women were fighting over an unknown topic, and two men were leaving. He thought it would be best for him to leave as well, keeping his pistol close to his chest. The air outside of the bar was crisp and immediately took the breath out of Bacredi, who had been experiencing chest pain for ages.

As Bacredi walked down the street, his mind began to wander, and he soon found himself converging into a de-facto intersection of slow moving speeders. As Bacredi’s mind wandered even further, a man reached out and grabbed his shoulders, shoving him back and dropping him quickly on the ground to avoid a speeder that was heading for Bacredi. Bacredi’s hands flailed around as he fell and his identification card fell out of his pocket, showing off his VENI and VEI ID, both of them with a stamp across it saying ‘RETIRED’. The man that had grabbed Bacredi out of the street looked at the IDs for a second and picked it up, helping him up in the process.

“Sorry about that,” the man said as Bacredi dusted off his shirt.

“Thanks, man,” Bacredi said, shaking the man’s hand. “Zhar Bacredi, good to meet you.”

“As to you, my name is Skarr. Norith Skarr.”
TRP/FSG Bacredi/3SQD/1PLT/1COMP/1BAT/1RGT/Tadath/VEA
Kami
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Kami
 
[VE-ARMY] 2nd Lieutenant
[VE-DJO] Dark Jedi Knight
[VE-ICS] Pirate Lord
 
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  RE: May the Wicked Never Know Rest (Prospectives)
July 22, 2010 2:30:55 AM    View the profile of Kami 
Thanks everyone for putting in the time and effort to post. This thread has now been locked, please refer to the 'Welcome' thread for further info.
|| Retired ||
[LoR][CoR][IG][GCA][BC][BM][CDS][EW][ES][GRP][GS]
------------------------
|| Dark Jedi Knight || Krath Order ||
CM/DJK Kami Sharpe/Lion 1-3/Krath/Dark Jedi Order/Vast Empire

------------------------
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