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Author
Topic:  Shady Dealings
Corsair
ComNet n00b
 
[VE-VEEC] Pirate
 
Post Number:  5
Total Posts:  4
Joined:  Feb 2004
Status:  Offline
  RE: Shady Dealings
February 28, 2004 2:55:25 AM    View the profile of Corsair 
Orbit, Nar Shaddaa
1000 Hours

--

High above the planetoid's atmosphere was the Ai Zhi, and from the cockpit her pilot, Corsair, studied the notorious Smuggler's moon intensely.

The Zhi was an A-24 Sleuth light scout craft, designed by Incom corporation and lightly armed with twin laser cannons. She could run rings around any pesky customs craft and still throw a punch. Sleek, manoeuvrable and pretty, it was her owner's only pride and joy.

Corsair, aged 24, was a native of Coruscant. He had boyish good looks, with black spikey hair and pale grey eyes that matched his somewhat sleepy look. There was a hint of stubble on his chin. Short and burly would be the best words to describe his build.

He punched a button on his command console and brought up a holographic display of Nar Shaddaa. The moon's towering cities echoed his homeworld's own vertical spires, but they were not nearly as impressive, and they had a much darker reputation.

Sighing, Corsair leaned back in his seat and unceremoniously banged his boots on the console. Soon, very soon in fact, he would be going down to meet with a shady and colourful character, to discuss dealings with the mercenary gang known as the Astral Guard.

He reached out his hand and grabbed the half-empty bottle of Corellian ale he always kept at his side. He couldn't deny it, he was feeling tense. And ever so slightly afraid. He took a swing of the liquor, trying to drown the unsettling feeling in his gut with alcohol.

Feeling a little dazed, he murmured out aloud, "How the hell did it come to this?" His mind began reeling back into the past.. ahh memories.

Back on Coruscant, his beloved father had been a rich trading merchant. Corsair could have inherited his father's business, settling into an easy and comfortable life running cargo freighters transporting food and medical supplies from system to system.

But no, the hot blooded Corsair wanted a life of action and adventure. As soon as his father gave him the Ai Zhi as a 21st birthday present, he had taken off, engines flaring, to see the galaxy. For three years, Corsair had been planet hopping, taking up any job that paid well.

Courier, smuggler, gun runner, he took em all up without paying any attention to his moral conscience, so long as the booty was good. That was all that mattered, the booty. He needed the money to buy his booze and whores.

"Daddy would be horrified if he ever found out I'm joining a stinkin' bunch o' pirates," he cackled madly to himself.

He put down the near empty bottle of ale and glanced at his chrono with strained eyes. Nearly time to meet up with this Captain Hayashi guy. Straightening up, he began the landing sequence.

-----------------------
Every normal man must be tempted, at times, to spit on his hands, hoist the black flag, and begin slitting throats - H.L Mencken
[This message has been edited by Corsair (edited February 29, 2004 12:13:33 AM)]
Corsair
ComNet n00b
 
[VE-VEEC] Pirate
 
Post Number:  5
Total Posts:  4
Joined:  Feb 2004
Status:  Offline
  RE: Shady Dealings
February 29, 2004 1:14:54 AM    View the profile of Corsair 
Spaceport Dx-B2k
1045 Hours

--

Corsair walked down the ramp of his landed ship slowly and deliberately, taking in his surroundings. He took a deep breath of the unclean air and looked up towards the gray sky, the smoke from the heavy industrialisation blocked out all sunlight even thought it was approaching midday.

Beings of all shapes and sizes scurried here and there, minding their own dirty businessess. Nearby, a wookie and a deformed whipid were brawling violently over a lost game dejarik holochess. The whipid obviously had forgotten the well-known saying, always let the wookie win.

Corsair grinned, he was starting to like the place. He trudged his way off for the spaceport cantina, where Mr. Hayashi must be waiting.

--

Klonk's Kantina
1100 Hours

Fifteen minutes and he still hasn't shown his face yet, thought Corsair angrily as he took the last sip of the cheap Ryll beer served by the faceless droid attendant. Where the hell was he? Maybe he got into trouble on his way over. Maybe the authorities nabbed him. Maybe.. ah well.

He took another anxious look around the cantina, trying to pick out his contact man. But the smoke from cigarras and strange pipes clouded his vision. A bith band played low jazz music in the background.

His hand strayed down to his hip, to finger the dl-54 auto blaster pistol hanging there. He brought it along from his ship, just in case he got into a spot of bother with the locals. A hideous and beast-like alien of an unknown race suddenly grunted at him. Bringing the gun along was a wise precaution indeed.

--

Half an hour had past. That's it, he was leaving. Turns out this whole meeting was a big waste of his oh so precious time. He flipped a few creds over to the droid waiter and got up on his feet, then pushed and shoved his way to the exit.

Just as he was about to step out into the open, he heard a blaster shot rang out. Instinctively, he found his auto blaster in his hand in a blink of an eye. He ducked, feeling confused and trying to determine the direction where the shot came from.

The passerbys in the street just stared at him, some of them sniggering and pointing. Apparently, gunshots ringing out in the middle of a crowded street was part of everyday life in Nar Shaddaa. Corsair looked sheepish as he straightened up.

Blam blam! The sound of two more blaster shots drummed in his ears. Holding his own blaster at his side, Corsair started creeping down the street, curious to see what all the racket was about. A forth shot rang out, and this time, screaming and shouting could be heard.

Corsair quickened his pace and rounded a corner into an alleyway.  He fantasized seeing a half-naked twi'lek chick being sexually assaulted by a gang of ruffians, and that he will be the hero who would save the day..

What he saw instead was a tall, hooded figure in a black cloak, standing over a dwarf-like Chadra Fan who was sprawled on the floor, bleeding very badly.

"Blasted pickpocketing scum!!" roared the hooded man as he fired off a last bolt into the foot of the poor alien, who moaned and crawled away pitifully.

The cloaked person whirled on his heels and found himself staring into the blank face of Corsair. Neither man spoke, until Corsair turned to leave the scene. The other guy raised an eyebrow and held up a hand.

"Hold on a minute. You're Corsair, right?" he barked.

"Yeah.. how did you know that?"

A grin broke out on the stranger's face, "Nevermind that, I'm Captain Hayashi Nobunaga. Pleased to meet you."

------
 
-----------------------
Every normal man must be tempted, at times, to spit on his hands, hoist the black flag, and begin slitting throats - H.L Mencken
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