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Post by Preacher on Dec 19, 2014 17:04:04 GMT -8
Banned for the same reason...
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Post by Preacher on Dec 19, 2014 16:51:29 GMT -8
Hey, don't be so sure... the vote still has to happen!
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Post by Preacher on Dec 19, 2014 4:52:36 GMT -8
Yeah, since Silas knows nothing if the verse and the power-plays going on well, basically everywhere, he assumes that governments are for the most part, good. And based on the praise heaped on the RDMC by nearly everyone he has encountered here, he assumes this is as good a place as any.
Imagine his surprise when he discovers what the Empire is, or the Force.
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Post by Preacher on Dec 18, 2014 15:44:28 GMT -8
OOC Note re. my last post: First line -- "Silas wished Fenrir would stop talking about things he doesn't understand."
To be clear, What I mean is "things Silas doesn't understand..." But because I was writing present-tense, third-person, the phrasing comes off a little oddly. Believe me, I'm not accusing Fenrir of shooting his mouth off about stuff he knows nothing about. Instead, Silas is frustrated with himself for not knowing most of the terms Fenrir is using.
In case it wasn't clear.
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Post by Preacher on Dec 18, 2014 15:34:52 GMT -8
Silas wished Fenrir would stop talking about things that he didn't understand, and made a mental note to keep researching the customs and various rituals and factions of the wider 'verse, in hopes that one day, he would understand all the terms the Fierce Man tossed around as if it were common knowledge. Though much of his word-stuff was lost on him, Silas gleaned enough from the man's speech to grow increasingly irritated. By the time Fenrir asks if there is a plan, Silas is holding up his hand for the man to stop speaking. When he continues, the Preacher eventually speaks up, cutting him off as he can bear no more.
--there is no plan. There is no money. Look, Fenrir, I'm sorry. Most of your talk doesn't make much sense to me. Jedi, Sith, Force, Kessel... can't say I've ever heard these words. I'm a stranger in your lands, as anyone with half an ounce of sense could tell. Just trying to make my way. But as unfortunate as it may be to you and your bank-book, where I come from I suppose I'm a sort of... he is momentarily at a loss for words ...frontier law man? We're called Preachers. Not many of us around on my world. Maybe four. We're tasked with keeping bad men in check when other methods fail, and righting wrong when evil takes a foothold. I carry the law with me. I can read and write, which is more'n I can say for 90% of the population where I come from. I uphold our laws, and where necessary, write new ones. It is all I have, and I have lived my whole life handing out sentence to wrongdoers. It isn't perfect, but on my planet, it's all there is.
he pauses, in order to check on Neassa and the slaves, and maybe to check himself from going too far.
Forgive me, but your unknown factors are your own. The questions you needs answers to are your own. The 'verse may justify slavery any way that it likes, but it is written, and my actions are prescribed. I may not be at home any longer, but a thief doesn't stop being a thief just because he's off-world. Same for me -- I don't stop being a Preacher just 'cause I'm elsewhere. We walk off this ship, into the hospital where -- unless I am mistaken -- all are welcome, and we request political asylum for these men and women. Refugees, I believe the term is. I would consider telling the authorities that this ship acted in their best interests and ferried them to their new life, instead of acting as jailer and prison-barge. Yes, the transition to life anew will not be easy, but the fact remains, slavery is unjust. And as for our "current employer..." I am not as of yet a member of this crew. It would be fine if you decided not to continue on with me. A shame, but fine. And if I were any kind of Preacher, I would not only never work for that "employer" ever again, I would pay him a visit, and read to him from the book of laws. Punishment would be slow, and painful.
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Post by Preacher on Dec 18, 2014 5:42:11 GMT -8
As far as a group communicator -- I like it, but it certainly wouldn't have prevented this situation with the slaves. You know what would have prevented it? Not running slaves. Leave that for the Pirates.
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Post by Preacher on Dec 18, 2014 5:40:00 GMT -8
Damn. Keep meaning to log out from Fel and log in as Preacher... but it's hard to tell when I'm on my iPhone.
Sorry -- when I said that Spectre's idea had merit, I meant his original 'property destruction' idea. Not the delivery of slaves.
Think about where we are. Honoghr is about as middle-of-the-road as you can get, politically. Not like we're dropping them off on the Sith homeworld. And it wouldn't just be dropping them off, Silas has every intention of speaking to the authorities and setting up political refugee status for them. (and I was considering spinning the story to seem as if we had rescued the slaves, instead of transporting them willingly.)
Like Jemima said, float your ideas in character. However you see fit.
Worst case scenario, Preacher doesn't stay with the crew. Fenrir, if having a moral compass aboard is a bad idea, you need to consider that.
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Post by Preacher on Dec 17, 2014 7:46:32 GMT -8
Your move.
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Post by Preacher on Dec 17, 2014 7:44:00 GMT -8
Preacher looks up from the book to meet the eye of the warrior woman descending the ramp. The look in his eye is unmistakable. Steely determination. Righteous indignation. Fatigue. And something else, a little dangerous. The first part of his spoken words seems recited, though if so it is from memory, as he looks directly at her, not at the open book in his hands.
For it is clearly written that none shall have domain over another by exchange of persons or labor. Each shall be her own of free mind and will. The ownership or abuse of the flesh is punishable, and his hand shall be swift and sure. he closes the book, slips it carefully into his shoulder satchel, and looks back up at Neassa. Warrior woman -- where I'm from, those in armour exist solely to protect those in need. I hope you are of their ilk. You can handle things out here, I will handle things in there. indicates the ship. he draws back the long coat on his right hip, and retrieves the hilt from its sheath. giving her a curt nod, he passes her on the ramp, heading inside.
Entering the cargo bay, he stops, closes his eyes and opens himself to the power of his Inner Strength once more. By the Red Sun, but he's tired. Thankfully, what he seeks doesn't take long to find, or much Strength to control. He turns right, through the small lounge, and enters a corridor familiar to Adrien's thoughts, but new to Silas. Still with eyes closed, he runs his hand over the doors on the left wall, pausing at the bulkhead separating the corridor from the flight deck, and then back again until he stops at the first door, closest to the lounge. This. This one. Locked. It doesn't take much to find the master override code in Adrien's thoughts. Silas wagers that the code remains unchanged since the previous owner's tenure, and is rewarded as the door slides aside to reveal a handful of sentients, standing as far away from the door as is possible. Scared. He looks at each one in turn.
Follow me.
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Post by Preacher on Dec 17, 2014 6:02:30 GMT -8
9C. Gotcha. And how many slaves are we talking about? (Sorry, instead of answering every little question, is there a link to where you took possession of the slaves? Men? Women? Children? Races?
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Post by Preacher on Dec 16, 2014 20:46:12 GMT -8
Oops. Keep forgetting whose account is logged in.
If Preacher finds the slaves, he'll simply free them all, that's all there is to it.
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Post by Preacher on Dec 16, 2014 16:10:36 GMT -8
"Since you both intend to join the crew, you best know, that we aren't too picky when it comes to what jobs we take. This ship, and its crew, need supplies, and they dont come cheap. To that extent, you should know our current cargo is a group of slaves destined for Kessel, so if you've got a problem with that, your chance to leave is wide open. Otherwise, get some rest, and if you can help with the pre-flight check, then go right ahead. As for Nar Shaddaa, I'm sure we'll more than likely drop by there more than once, so it shouldn't be a problem. Any other questions? "
Silas briefly opened his mouth as if to say something, then thought against it. Instead, not taking his gaze off the newly minted Captain, he subconsciously ran an index finger along the well-worn leather spine of the book which jutted a few inches out of the top of his shoulder satchel. back and forth, back and forth. At mention of Nar Shaddaa, Preacher nods, and then takes a seat momentarily on the edge of a sofa, awaiting the next moment, whatever it would turn out to be.
I'll see to it we're fuelled and ready to lift off, Cap. back and forth, back and forth.
Tired though he was, sleep would wait. There were things to attend to. Nar Shaddaa, wherever that was, whatever it was - city, barony, country or planet - he now knew he could get there. This was progress. Walking down the landing ramp, he caught sight of the thin, wiry raven-haired woman entering the med centre as he caught the attention of a deck officer and introduced himself, asking that the Midnight Shadow be prepped for immediate lift-off. No credits changed hands, and Silas alluded to the notion that another member of the crew would pay the bill (which would have to be the case, since he knew from the four coins that he held in his palm, that sixteen credits wouldn't get far.) This seemed to satisfy the deck hand, who smiled courteously and moved off to tend to the ship.
back and forth, back and forth.
He pulled the book out, leafed through a few well-thumbed pages until he found what he sought. Tapped lightly, reverently at a point on the page.
Slaves... where?
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Post by Preacher on Dec 16, 2014 15:51:29 GMT -8
**cracks knuckles**
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Post by Preacher on Dec 16, 2014 13:36:44 GMT -8
So, I have every intention of replying, now that Fenrir has posted, but before I do, I need to know where the slaves are being kept, based on the deck layout of the 'Shadow in Adrien's profile (because Preacher will find it IC.)
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Post by Preacher on Dec 14, 2014 18:30:33 GMT -8
Posts? Crew? Let's go!!
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Post by Preacher on Dec 7, 2014 8:55:26 GMT -8
There was talk. It seemed to come from deep in a well, or outside an airlock was a more fitting description, but Silas focussed on it, swam back from the all-encompassing sleep that had overtaken him, and shifted slightly on the couch, tilting his hat back on his brow.
Care to explain? I dont mind passangers, so long as I know about them and they work or pay their way...
The fierce man (Preacher still didn't know who he was or could put a face and a name together) was talking to the armoured man and a woman similarly attired. They must have been some sort of knight errant, for the Preacher had seen anything approaching their like on on Kilia, the metal-armoured royal guard who undertook the protection of the Baron and his immediate family. They were elite soldiers, but not to be trusted. He had judged two of them in his life, both had been the hardest judgements he had ever been forced to make.
The fierce man spoke of passengers in a way that lead him to believe the was in charge around here... but Silas was confused. After many years in Adrien's head, he knew very well that Draykon was the Captain, and a savvy one at that. He'd have to learn the lay of the land.
You takin' charge here, Feral Man? After speaking to him for a few ye-- uh, hours, I thought Adrien Draykon was the boss-man around here. growing reflective... there were names that flooded his mind And then Tobias. And Ace, Rachel, Mack Dieter... Dax... Connie... Nika Rodan... seemingly coming out of his thoughts, holding up hands, retiring the possible argument before it starts Don't mean nothin'. I can't really pay my way, but you might find use for me. And if we ever find ourselves in the area of, er... he rummages through a leather-bound, well-worn book until he find the page he seeks ...Nar Shaddaa, I should very much appreciate the opportunity to... visit... there.
Extending a gloved hand. Silas, second of the house Biul. I sometimes get called 'Preacher' by my friends.
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Post by Preacher on Dec 7, 2014 8:40:00 GMT -8
Think I'll reply to the new conversation happening around me.
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Post by Preacher on Dec 5, 2014 9:03:49 GMT -8
I won't interject yet... but you can bet as soon as someone is bumped into, Preacher will be awake...
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Post by Preacher on Dec 2, 2014 9:43:19 GMT -8
pfft. Nobody ever said you were by yourself.
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Post by Preacher on Dec 1, 2014 13:18:42 GMT -8
Heh. Be sure to say hi to Preacher on your way outside...
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