Dread Lord Havok
The First Order
Posts: 945
Affiliation: Sith, darkside, Adventists of the Eye, Imperial Remnant
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Post by Dread Lord Havok on Sept 6, 2020 7:03:07 GMT -8
As the song ended, Faust turned back to the table. He had been dealt another hand, but this time only one or two of the original patrons remained at the table after his incredible win. One glared at Faust, over the top of a frothy glass, and the other was staring intently at his datapad and muttering to himself. Faust found the Trident Spiceweed cigar, and energetically looked around for the server. He had hoped to ask for her name, or even ask her out. At minimum, he wanted to give her a good tip. He spun a credit chit between his fingers.
"Monsewer?" The Dealer brought Faust back to the game. After a quick glance at his cards, Faust made the minimum bet. Faust pulled out the cigar and put it to his lips. It had much more flavor than Imperial MAX. Faust did not light it, but only chewed and gave it the occasional dry drag.
The music and atmosphere of the establishment had not changed, and Faust was at a loss. He was not enjoying himself, and he found himself looking away from his cards, hoping to catch sight of the server. He leaned to the dealer. "Hey, friend, did you see the server that brought me the cigar?" "Monsewer, I can call a server right away." The dealer raised a finger to call a server. "Uh, thanks, but I mean, specifically the server that I was talking to before. Do you know her name? I wanted to give her a tip?" Faust spun the credit chit in his hands over his knuckles. "Yes, of course Monsewer. I do not know her name, but she is the sister of Mr. Blake, in tonight's band." "Which one is he?" Faust turned from the table to eye the band. "He is the talented artist with the beautiful solos." The dealer pointed out Felix Blake in the band stand. "Thank you. You can cash me out." Faust folded his cards and forfeited his bets in the pile. He slid a tip to the dealer, who nodded. "Good evening Monsewer, and good luck."
"Thanks." Faust pocketed the credit placeholder and walked to the bar to wait. He'd have to redeem his winnings on the way out, but before he did that, he wanted to see if his luck held up.
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Dread Lord Havok
The First Order
Posts: 945
Affiliation: Sith, darkside, Adventists of the Eye, Imperial Remnant
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Post by Dread Lord Havok on Sept 11, 2020 16:31:59 GMT -8
Yung hastily entered the Outlander Club wearing his tinted space helmet. The Durosian was aware his face had been posted on the holonet. He was counting on the fact that humans seemed to have a difficult time telling Durosians apart, and Coruscant was a predominately human world. Still, the tinted helmet helped hid his face from more dicerning citizens.
Yung spent the majority of the "day" in the Outlander Club, watching races, and trying to keep out of sight. He bought drink with his few remaining credits. It had been more than two years since he had tasted the sweet flavor of fancy mixed drinks. He tried to make it last as long as possible. But when it was gone, he couldn't just stop with one. From there on, he picked a pocket when he needed more.
Time passed and the lights dimmed to denote the artificial change from "day" to "night" in the underworld.
He kept his eyes open on the entrance of the club, waiting for Chaser to show up.
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Dread Lord Havok
The First Order
Posts: 945
Affiliation: Sith, darkside, Adventists of the Eye, Imperial Remnant
Traffic Light: Green
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Post by Dread Lord Havok on Sept 11, 2020 16:53:11 GMT -8
Major Sevet walked into the Outlander club, wearing his imperial greys. Lomm, an IG series droid, accompanied him. A man approached the pair. "Welcome sir, to our fine establishment! I am Grettus. May I be of assistance?" "Perhaps. I am looking for the best pilots in the galaxy." Major Sevet spoke matter-of-factly. "Ah! A recruiter, yes? We have many excellent pilots on the Coruscant Circuit. Let me show you to the racing area." "Actually, yes. We are recruiting. Lead on." Grettus took the pair down a floor to the swoop race viewing area.
>>>>> Yung saw an Imperial Officer walk into the Outlander Club with an IG series droid. He looked away, and slouched lower in his seat. >>>>>
"As you can see, the best pilots in the galaxy come here from all over. The Coruscanti circuit is considered to be a great challenge. We have many types of pilots. Swoop racers, podracers, stunt racers, rallyflight; the list goes on." "I'd like to talk to some of the pilots." Sevet emphasized his intentions. "Most of the pilots are in the pits right now, but I do have a list of names and their records of various achievements. Perhaps that might help you narrow your search if you were seeking a particular pilot?"
Major Sevet sensed Grettus was running interference, to prevent him, an imperial officer, from unrestricted access to just any pilot. It's almost like Grettus thought that Major Sevet was using recruitment as a cover story. Ironic. "That's helpful." He took the house datapad from the employee. "Does their record include racetimes, statistics, and any prior imperial service records?" "Times and statistics yes, imperial service, no. Imperial service is not a requirement to race, and so we do not collect or keep that data, even if available or volunteered by a racer." Grettus remained smiling.
In the background a race started and the viewing crowd got noisy; shouting encouragement to the racers on the view screen.
"I understand. Could you take us somewhere... quiet, to study these?" "Of Course!" Grettus led the pair to a private box, with its own holo-displays of the current races. "Please, let us know if you need anything. I will be right outside." He smiled and closed the door. Sevet's I.I. datapad vibrated. He checked it to see a message from Lomm. <<"The room is bugged. Initiating jamming.">>
"Status: the room is now secure." Lomm spoke. Sevet was already looking over the race statistics in the house datapad. "Lomm, scan these and look for meaningful statistical deviations in performance. From what I can see, the top-tier racers are so similar in their performance, that I can't be certain that random chance, or race fixing, is ultimately determining the outcomes." Lomm plugged into the house datapad. "Acknowledged. Processing."
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Dread Lord Havok
The First Order
Posts: 945
Affiliation: Sith, darkside, Adventists of the Eye, Imperial Remnant
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Post by Dread Lord Havok on Sept 11, 2020 17:14:04 GMT -8
Major Sevet and IG-LOMM watched races, researched racers and processed statistics all day. The lights dimmed, signaling the onset of "night."
"Report: Multi factorial statistical analysis complete. Background checks complete. I show seven racers formerly served in the navy. Transferring that list to your datapad. Question: are races that occur on a track, considered one dimensional or two dimentional?" Lomm was getting at something. "I don't know the answer to that." Sevet admitted. He started looking over the list of former imperial pilots. "Continuation: even races with three spacial degrees of freedom still are conducted along closed charted routes, to allow at minimum, safety, uniform qualifying times, track records, and the ability to support calculated odds in the betting context." Sevet could see what Lomm was getting at."Are you saying that the races that occur on tracks and closed raceways are too dissimilar to from real-world conditions to allow us to predict a pilot's real-world skill based on his trackrecord?" "Confirmation: my analysis exactly." Lomm seemed pleased. "Well, that's a bust. At least we can talk to the former imperial pilots." Major Sevet got up. He opened the door of the private viewing box and a server was waiting outside. " Can I get you anything? It's on the house." The server was smiling. Major Sevet felt his stomach growl. He had spent all day watching races. He was famished. "Maybe in a moment. Can you get Grettus for us?"
In a minute Grettus was there. "What can I get for you?" He cheerfully asked. "We'd like to speak with any of the racers on this list." Lomm handed the house datapad back to Grettus. Grettus did not look at the list, but nodded. "I will ask for them." "We would very much appreciate your time, and their time if you can arrange it." Major Sevet added, hinting that there may be compensation for the trouble. "No doubt! No Doubt!" Grettus agreed. "Come with me, I hear you have been working all day! I have been told that you have not had anything to eat or drink while here! This is unacceptable!" Grettus fussed. "Please! We take pride in our hospitality! Come with me to the cantina. You can wait there while I speak with the pilots."
As Major Sevet followed Grettus up two floors to the Outlander dinning area, his I.I. Datapad vibrated again. He checked it to see a comlink message from Lomm. <<"OSS has no funds.">> Major Sevet rolled his eyes. Grettus sat the pair at a table overlooking the main floor where a live band was playing. "Monsewer, please! Eat and drink, enjoy the atmosphere. I shall return shortly." He left with a smile.
Major scanned the area. From the balcony he could see the card tables, the band stand, and the bar. He leaned over to Lomm. "We don't have an operational budget yet, do we." "Correct: Leeta was working on the logistics when we left and my processors have been otherwise... occupied." "So we have no department funds right now." The Major was thinking aloud. "Correct. Addition: We also have not implemented any reimbursement policies." "I'll keep that in mind if I need to buy a drink." Well, no use crying over credits that have not been spilt yet. At the moment, Major Sevet was going to have a meal while everything was on the house.
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Dread Lord Havok
The First Order
Posts: 945
Affiliation: Sith, darkside, Adventists of the Eye, Imperial Remnant
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Post by Dread Lord Havok on Sept 12, 2020 4:44:04 GMT -8
Below the dining room balcony, Faust sat at the bar, slowly chewing the spiceweed cigar. He got the bartender's attention. They spoke over the music of the nearby band. "I'll have a Hadderock, no rocks please." "Coming right up!" The bartender started to mix up the drink, with flashy moves; pouring long and high, using shakers, a blender, tweezers and even a microscope to ensure the mixture was uniform. It was very impressive to watch. He finally poured the light green smoothie into a wooden mug, and delicately put a twig in it. "There you go sir." Faust slid a tip over to the bartender and took a sip. Faust's eyes widened. "That, my friend, might be the best Hadderock. I. Have. EVER. Had!" It truly was exceptional. The bartender was pleased by the complement, and bowed slightly. Faust slid another tip over to the bartender. "Do you know Mr. Blake?" "Mr. Blake?" The bartender washed his hands. "Yeah, the musician. That Mr. Blake." Faust pointed over to the live band performing. "Oh. Yeah. I know Felix Blake." "Do you know his sister that works here?" "Yeah I know his sister." The bartender dried his hands. Faust was excited. "She owes me five credits." The bartender frowned. Faust suddenly felt awkward. The bartender's demeanor slowly broke down into a smile. "HA, I gotcha! Yeah I know her. She's a sweetheart." Faust was relieved."She was my server, and I forgot to give her a tip! What's her name?" "Bruce." The bartender was deadpan. Faust looked surprised, again, before the bartender laughed. "I'm just playing, her name is Polisina. We call her Poli." Faust slid yet another tip over to the bartender. "If you notice my Hadderock get empty, give me another. I don't want to see the bottom of my mug. Put it on my tab. I may be here for a while." The bartender nodded understandingly. "Oh, and if you see Poli, will you let her know I am looking for her?" "Sure thing."
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Dread Lord Havok
The First Order
Posts: 945
Affiliation: Sith, darkside, Adventists of the Eye, Imperial Remnant
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Post by Dread Lord Havok on Sept 15, 2020 13:27:23 GMT -8
Later in the evening, the band finished playing. The band members disappeared backstage as a DJ set up his rig and began playing. The techno-union DJ started off light, like a music box, before rolling into a sycopated dub-step march. In no time at all he commenced dropping mechanical thunderous beats, to the delight of patrons that were there to take advantage of the Coruscant club-scene.
Faust had not yet seen the server, but he was still enjoying the new music and atmosphere.
A short time later, Faust spied Poli and Felix Blake. Poli was taking off her server's apron and a dickie bowtie and Felix held an instrument case. The bartender also saw them, and waved them over to the bar by Faust. "Hey Poli, You have a secret admirer." The bartender motioned over to Faust, who raised his wooden mug with a smile. Poli was excited to see the gambler from earlier. Felix spoke up, "Who is this guy?" "He's no one." She smiled coyly at her brother. "I'm just going to stay here and talk to him. I am going to let you get home to Fraschini. She'll be waiting up for you."
Felix stood there, with his hand in his pocket. He narrowed his eyes and took a good long look at Faust, (just in case something happened), before speaking to his sister, "Alrighty, take care. I'll see you here tomorrow, Pol." Poli hugged her sibling. "See you tomorrow!" She watched her brother walk away, over Faust's shoulder, as she started talking to Faust. "So you just couldn't let me go, huh?" She looked back to him. "I couldn't let you go without giving you a tip." Faust flicked a credit chip around his fingers, making it dance over his knuckles. "Just the tip?" She asked mischievously. Poli shamelessly flirted with innuendos. The joke flew over the pilot's head. "Well not just the tip..." "So you want to give me the rest of it?" She cut him off, relentlessly pursuing the joke. "The rest of what?" Faust blinked. "You know, the business?" By the stars! He was so adorable! "Poli, I have no idea what you're talking about. All I know is you are very pretty, and I enjoyed talking to you, and I'd like to talk with you some more. My name is Virgil by the way. Virgil Faust. I don't want to seem creepy; the bartender told me your name. Would you like to sit and talk awhile?" Poli took a seat beside Faust. "I'd love to, Virgil. That's a delicate name for a... what do you do?"Poli pulled out a spiceweed cigarillo. "I'm a pilot." "Cargo?" Poli spun a complete revolution on the bar chair with her arms out like wings. "Imperial Navy." "One of our famous Fly-boys?" She put the cigarillo to her lips. "On occasion." "Virgil, that's such a delicate name for a tough mean pilot." She was all smiles, playfully mocking him with grumpy emphasis on 'tough mean pilot.' Faust laughed aloud. "Thanks. I usually go by Faust, being in the Navy and all. It's almost like first names don't exist." "That's such a shame. Virgil is a nice name. Are you on shore leave? When do you have to go back to your ship?" She lit the cigarillo. "Well, my term of duty is over. I'm taking a break to figure out if I want to re-enlist. So, maybe I won't be a pilot for long. Bartender, can you get Poli a drink?" "Thank you Virgil. Sam, I'll have my usual." Poli smiled and touched Faust's arm "Do you love flying?" She inhaled on the cigarillo. "More than anything in the galaxy." "Then why would you walk away from it?" "Well, if I progress, at some point, I won't be able to fly anymore. I'll get promoted and they will have me flying a desk, or training newbies. I don't want to do either of those things." Faust adjusted the position of his mug on the bar. "You're not afraid that you'll get hurt the longer you fly?" "Nope," Faust took a drink of his Hadderock. "I'm the best. I'll never get shot down." His eyes twinkled. "Oooooh." Poli's eyes widened, with amusement, and then she smiled and slowly blew smoke from her nose. "That really does smell delightful. Which one is that?" Faust commented on the cigarillo. "It's 'Sexy Man.' I always prefer a sexy man." She winked at him. Sam, the bartender, set a tall thin glass with blue liquid in front of Poli. By this time, Faust was sure he was going to enjoy his evening with Poli.
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Dread Lord Havok
The First Order
Posts: 945
Affiliation: Sith, darkside, Adventists of the Eye, Imperial Remnant
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Post by Dread Lord Havok on Sept 15, 2020 13:50:22 GMT -8
The evening progressed and soon both Faust and Poli were intoxicated and freely conversing. Often loudly.
Yung had ALSO had been drinking. Quite a bit. And unfortunately for him, he was sitting near Faust and Poli in order to have a clear view of the front doors. Sitting by them was the best to keep a lookout for Chaser. He took off his helmet to consume drinks, and once he was intoxicated, he forgot to put it back on.
Because he was so close to them, and they were talking loudly, Yung couldn't help overhear them even over the Techno-union DJ. From his intoxicated perspective, he silently judged their loud and inappropriately public conversation. Their conversation was flirty; nausiatingly so. "Oh, you're such a good pilot!" "Yes, I am! Look at me!" "Blah blah blah!" "wow, aren't you pretty!" "Oh thanks!" "Blah" "We should kiss!" "Ok!" SMOOOOCH! "Pilots kiss good!" "Oh baby, its all the target practice!" Yung wanted to bang his own head against the table, just to make it stop. Why didn't they just go get a ROOM already!
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Dread Lord Havok
The First Order
Posts: 945
Affiliation: Sith, darkside, Adventists of the Eye, Imperial Remnant
Traffic Light: Green
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Post by Dread Lord Havok on Sept 15, 2020 13:58:43 GMT -8
"So why do you love flying so much?" Poli sipped on her fourth tall blue drink. "My grandmother had a farm, and she needed someone to spray fertilizer and genetic conditioner on the fields. She first taught me to fly. She was a great pilot. I always looked up to her. It wasn't long after that, that I was flying stunts and winning prizes at the fairs." Poli sat with her face in her hands, smiling at Faust. "Mmmmmmmmm the wholesome farmboy, taking home the blue ribbon." "It's true. I really am something." Faust raised his mug. "Oh really?" She raised her eyebrows in mock disbelief. "No I'm serious. I am the best pilot in the galaxy. If it flies, ... I could fly it!" Faust feigned false modesty in his delivery.
Poli laughed and playfully challenged him. "That droid is flying, could you pilot him?" She pointed. A busboy droid slowly hovered by with a tray full of half-empty glasses and plates. "Well, let's see!" Faust downed his Hadderock, while he reached into his jacket and pulled out an Imperial Pilot's cap. He slammed his mug on the bar. He put on the pilot's cap and looked back to Poli. "Let's go!" He jumped onto a chair and sprung onto the hovering droid. Glasses, plates and food went everywhere, including landing on Yung nearby. "HEY!" Yung angrily jumped to his feet. The Droid's repulsors moaned and strained. The droid immediately began to protest in Bochi. "BZZ beepbep Dreet Doooooooodoot bree!" All while Faust was hollering. "Yeeeeeehaw!!!" Faust jabbed the droid with his heels. "Fly droid! FLYYYY" The droid, incenced started spinning and bucking, trying to unseat this unwelcome passenger. "That's the way!!!" Faust held on with one hand and waved his hat in the air with the other.
Poli was hysterical. She couldn't have laughed harder. Sam, the bartender, watched while dutifully refilling Faust's Hadderock.
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Dread Lord Havok
The First Order
Posts: 945
Affiliation: Sith, darkside, Adventists of the Eye, Imperial Remnant
Traffic Light: Green
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Post by Dread Lord Havok on Sept 15, 2020 14:08:36 GMT -8
Major Sevet of Imperial intelligence, and IG-LOMM had been at the club quite some time waiting to talk to some of the pilots. They were there to recruit the best pilot in the galaxy. Grettus had not yet shown up with any pilots yet. By this time, they suspected they probably wouldn't actually speak to any pilots.
From their table on the second floor of the Outlander Club, Major Sevet and IG-LOMM looked down from the balcony to see the commotion. They looked just in time to see a hollering man in an imperial pilot's cap ride a hovering droid into a loop-de-loop. The man managed to hang on as the droid pulled a barrel roll.
"Observation:-" the IG series droid was about to state the obvious. "I see it too Lomm. Impressive." "My ocular sensors have never seen-... It momentarily defies categorization."
Without further comment, they both got up and headed downstairs.
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Dread Lord Havok
The First Order
Posts: 945
Affiliation: Sith, darkside, Adventists of the Eye, Imperial Remnant
Traffic Light: Green
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Post by Dread Lord Havok on Sept 15, 2020 16:25:42 GMT -8
Down below, Faust finally let go, and rolled off the angry droid, while laughing. "See? I'm a natural!" He threw his arms wide. "BRAVO!" Poli shouted, laughing over the music. "YOU! ARSEHOLE!" Yung stumbled up to Faust, "You GOT me ALLLLLL covered in..." Yung looked down at himself. "I donno what that is." He wiped a purple stain and looked up again. "Point is, you're NOT a PILOT! You're a DISGRACE!" He jabbed his finger into Faust's chest. Faust straightened up to mock attention, putting his pilot's cap on. "YES SIR!" "A DISGRACE!" Yung repeated himself with tightly closed eyes, and again jabbed his finger in Faust's chest. Poli had never laughed so hard in the past five years combined. "BAHHAHAHA!" Faust couldn't keep his face straight and doubled over laughing too. "CHASER is TEN TIMES the pilot you will EVER BE!" Spittle flew from Yung's mouth.
Major Sevet and Lomm arrived just in time to hear the last interchange. "Gentlemen, I understand that someone is claiming to be the best pilot." Faust nodded. "In the galaxy, Shir, SIR!" He slurred his speech and saluted Major Sevet.
Just then, Chaser walked in the door holding Tyna's hand. Yung hiccuped. "CHASER! My friend! Over here!" Yung waved them over. "Chaser, thish asssss thinks he's a better piiiiiilot then you! Shays he's the besht piiiiiiiilot in the GLACKZEY!" The drunk Durosian accented the words awkwardly. "Well, he might be, the galaxy is a big place." Chaser humbly observed. Faust drawled, "BESTY in the Galaxy!" He lifted his arms like a champion. Poli giggled from the metaphorical sidelines. Chaser wasn't about to start arguing with a drunk. They were already too close to an imperial officer. "Come on Yung, let's get out of here." "NO! He said he's the best, and I KNOW, that YOU ARE the best, Chaser!" Yung grabbed Chaser. "You should fight him or something." Yung turned to Major Sevet. "You should ARREST this IMPOSTER!" He pointed to Faust. "CHASER, Took Firtttzt Playz at the Corrrrellia Classssic!" Yung puffed into Faust's face.
Tyna had watched with wide unblinking eyes. She suddenly let go of Chaser's hand and sat down, closing her eyes, as if she knew what was coming.
"Is that so?" Major Sevet looked at Chaser, who reluctantly nodded. "Very well." The Major turned to Lomm. "All of them." Lomm blasted Faust, Chaser, Yung and Tyna with a stun ray. "Acknowledged." Faust, and Chaser collapsed gracefully. Yung fell hard, like a log. Tyna, the child who was already sitting on the ground, was hit at the periphery and gently slumped over, incapacitated. "We'll sort which is the best later. One of these is the pilot Agent Quasar is looking for." He lifted his comlink. "Iron Maiden, Land in the plaza outside, we're bringing three." "Roger. On our way, ETA 60 seconds." "Suggestion: We should take the child too. It may help motivate the one called 'Chaser'." Lomm performed the calculation, there was a better than 50% probability, based on circumstances, that the human called Chaser had parental responsibilities towards the child. Major Sevet monetarily considered it before he agreed. "Update: We're bringing four." "Roger that."
Poli had watched the four individuals get stunned in front of her eyes. Only then did she semi-recover from her stupor of laughter to realize that the imperial officer and droid were really about to carry off her date for the night. "Hey! You can't do that! He's mine!" She took an unsteady step towards the Major. The major was not carrying a weapon at the moment. He looked over to Lomm, who hoisted Faust and Yung over his shoulders. "Stun her too." Lomm dropped Yung, who's head bounced on the floor. Lomm then fired a stun ray at Poli, who crumpled to the ground. Lomm picked Yung back up. Major Sevet lifted his comlink. "Update: Five." "Roger."
The major ordered three bystanders to carry Chaser, Poli and Tyna outside to the VT-49 that just touched down in the plaza. The ship's landing lights blazed through the front glass of the club. Before anyone could further intervene, all were aboard and the ship was taking off and shrinking into the sky.
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Post by Captain Xakic Kannue on Apr 5, 2021 20:23:25 GMT -8
*Sitting causally with a drink the man watched. And he listened. Word among his kind travelled fast. The word at present spelled credits. Lots of credits. And that moved mountains. But at the moment the drink was nice. And ultimately all he could trust. His Comm. incessantly hummed until he flipped it open, face grimacing* "What now" *From wincing in pain to smile was a bizarre metamorphosis. Laughing he closed the Comm. a smile on hardened face. Word was true*
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Di Fastski
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Post by Di Fastski on Apr 8, 2021 15:34:42 GMT -8
*Di waltzed into the club. His eyes caught Occupancy, Balle and Chance huddled at a table. Some other familiar face lifts were visible but he made a b-line for the trio. Taking a seat he laid out the crack. He drank a coffee nervously. The plan was paid out. He would, again, flood the planet city with illicit drugs. Just like a quarter million other entrepreneurs of this sorted business did as a trade on the city planet. The anonymity of it all suited Di just fine. He like fear. People fearing you worked wonders. But he was no flamboyant heatbag just dating to be busted and end up cracking rocks in some Imperial prison. Been there done that. You did what needed doing and prayed you didn't wind up have to do somebody to get things done. Dirty business killing. And avoid that he would. Unless.... Shaking head to clear the mind, found himself walking straight into a woman. Well straight over it he had not grabbed her by the shoulders. Fast straightening her out* -Di- "I am so sorry ma'am." *The smack rocked his face. A hard push followed that and she was gone. He mumbled* -Di- "Waste of a bullet...." * Shaking head again. Now where was he? Right! Outlander. Who came up with these names? Scratching head he turned to look back. The crew was gone. Turning he slipped out a door. Much later Maximum Occupancy sat with Cue Balle and Halfa Chance. Max didn't care who he dealt with; if they had money and wanted then he would happily oblige. Had career decison, one that would deal his fate.Cue took answered a Comm. Without a second thought The pulled a blaster and capped Max under the left arm, piercing his heart. Mac's head hit the table with a thud. A shocker Halfa sat with lips apart for a moment. Cue spoke* -Cue- "Take his ballet but leave the body. Half a responded without question. The pair casually left the left the Outlander,Max left at the table, face down and as dead as dead can be. Halfa made a mental note, do not mess with these people. Ever*
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Di Fastski
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Post by Di Fastski on Apr 12, 2021 21:34:54 GMT -8
*Halfa was beside himself. Again? Did these people have no souls? Looking across the table it was clear, Pot Belly was no prize. Forget the sad shape, implied by the unholy nickname. So what the man had a few pounds on. Good thought Halfa. Nobody would worry about him eating well. But the man was gaining no points for his charming prrsonality. Watching the man follow Cue to the washroom still bothered Halfa. He sat looking at an uneaten meal. To his surprise, there was Cue. Cue really needed some psychiatric help in Halfa's humble opinion. Taking a good look at Cue in such a happy state truly chilled Halfa. He just murdered a dude. Some personal effects were slapped in front of them. Apparently they had a vehicle now.... Halfa looked up at Cue, then down at the loot again* -Halfa- "We done?" *Cue responded coolly* -Cue- "Nah, one more...." *Right there Halfa determined that all the shrinks in the city planet could do nothing with this man; What he needed was one of those mythical Jedi exorcisms. And if they were just a myth no better time than invent them* -Cue- "Time flies - let's go!" *And the bodies are really starting to pile up.... Immediately came to Halfa but he didn't speak. Cue walked out and Halfa followed. Into the rest room. And there sat Pot Belly with his pants down sitting on a toilet in an ope stall. Cue locked the door to the restroom. I'm dead! thought Halfa. But no.... Apparently they were now cleaners. Professional cleaners. The equipment this guy has is crazy Halfa thought. Scratching head he changed. Both of them were now part of Blaster Cleaners. Was he a bit part in some sort of comedy? Halfa decided to turn off his mind. Cue was in his element; he took to this like stuck to water. In their shiny new Blaster Cleaners suits the two walked out of the washroom, with Pot, blown out brains and all, slumped over in a stall*
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Post by Captain Xakic Kannue on Apr 14, 2021 21:21:46 GMT -8
*A small easily consumable fire erupted in the lab table. Kannue did the right thing. He did not flip and hit the fire alarm, that would set off an immediate response, care of Public Works and less to a wholly unnecessary scene. Not did he jump up and down like a baboon when feeding time was late. Or any other tired cliche that might be applied to the present situation. What he did do was grab a timely located Fire Blanket, a device designed with the sole purpose of extinguishing fires and with said blanket he put the fire out. He wondered why it was that many could not do such simple things. Nerves he surmised. Shame that. With the immediate issue behind him turning he asked Di, only half jokingly* -Kannue- "What's next cheif? Take over city hall?"
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Di Fastski
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Post by Di Fastski on Apr 14, 2021 21:47:13 GMT -8
*Now in his element Di was cooking. He wanted quality but 100%? Never happening. Halo mushrooms were stocked in bulk, frozen then they processed them for the Ixetal cilona. Then Di had this cut with rat poison. As Di worked he laughed loudly thinking about the common revulsion of many being informed of this method of cutting; pure Ixetal colons was far more deadly than that cut with rat poison, or any other cutting agent for that matter. Indeed, a common form of vengeance among drug dealers was purposely allowing an uncut product into the hands of an unknowing enemy; intantly dropped anybody who used it. Cold for sure and Di was more than the willing to play hard, if people wanted that. But arbitrarily greasing people? Not his style. Unless necessary of course. It was then that Kannue asked the question. Di's head swung with such force he near have himself whiplash. Standing tall he informed Kannue in no uncertain terms* -Di- "Never. Never. We do our business and anybody gets in the way of that they'll wind up rotting in a shallow grave." *Flipping fast to cheery business face* -Di- "We perform a public service dealing with the rift raft they don't even wish to acknowledge exists." *Di was on his soapbox now and continued* -Di- "And then you have the good citizens with a dirty dirty habit nobody knows about... or wrose nobody wants to admit exists." *Di fought with and called some machine he was fighting with words that would make an Imperial army drill sergeant blush. Stopping work a moment* -Di- "We do everything we can to aid public officials and their paid representatives." *mTurning back to his work for several moments Di spoke* -Di- "Unless one of them gets in our way..... " *Stopping he stood back, left arm dragged along sweaty forehead* "Then we dispose of them to."
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Post by Captain Xakic Kannue on Apr 14, 2021 22:45:52 GMT -8
*Kannue listened to the rant. How could he miss it; he was three feet away from the man working at the same workshop. And he was grateful; nothing said by his friend conflicted with his own beliefs. Friend.... Nothing like a classical Freudian slip to reveal what a person thought. Shrugging Kannue leaned into the work producing quality dope to subdue the masses with his partner... friend*
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Di Fastski
Member
Posts: 111
Affiliation: himself
Traffic Light: Green
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Post by Di Fastski on Apr 15, 2021 13:13:44 GMT -8
*Di sat counting cash. Di, as a rule, was not a political man. Nor was he overly social. But suddenly he wanted to start going to church, or join in the local Salvation Army or something like that. Odd he thought. Then the National anthem rang in his head. He wasn't sure what national anthem it was but was a national anthem. suddenly struck him. Off thought he... thought. The overwhelming urge to stand and pay homage sweept him up to his feet and he stood up straight, right hand at his chest. Scratching head with left hand he asked himself: 'Self. Did we smoke any of that death stick trash???' No answer coming back, he shrugged and returned to counting the fruits of his illicit enterprise*
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Post by Captain Xakic Kannue on Apr 15, 2021 19:50:44 GMT -8
OoC The previous 4 posts above belong on a different thread. Please excuse the mess. Apologies
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