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Post by Nicademus Delvardus IV on Jan 22, 2016 23:09:55 GMT -8
The Emissary's helmet moved slightly in the direction of Slyvia at the mention of her... price. The Supreme Commander had given him extraordinary powers to deal with this syndicate and gain their resources, their assets and services. To make them great again could prove to be a double edged sword; on one side, it gives the First Order a powerful ally. On the other, it could make a potential enemy in the future. Yet, despite such pros and cons, there was potential.
And might I ask what your beginning price is for your services? You ask much and I know that my master will see to your needs, but, in order to further these negotiations, I must inquire as to your starting bid for your services. And then we can go from there.
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Deleted
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Post by Deleted on Jan 23, 2016 18:17:09 GMT -8
Sylvia leaned backward, gesturing vaguely at the bar at large. "My price?" She asked, chuckling slightly. "I talk a big talk about rebuilding the Quincy...but the simple fact is, the majority of the Quincy, they don't approve of my ways. I need to prove to them that your side is the right side. And, in the end...there's really only one way to do that." Taking out a small datadisc, Sylvia pushed the disc across the table to the man. "One Lormar-class refinery station, refitted and modified into a military grade listening post. Three subspace/holonet relay stations. One hundred Non-mass holonet hyperwave transceivers. One Hundred Subspace / Holonet relay satellites. One hundred subminiature probe drones. Forty Light-Stealth 18's. Thirty Guardian-class light cruisers. One hundred and twenty Rapid Deployment Airspeeders."
Sylvia leaned back, after reciting the list. "With your resources? The holonet and subspace equipment will be a trifle. The airspeeders as well. The cruisers and Light-Stealths easily within your reach. The station? Perhaps the largest item on your list. But, compared to supplying someone with a stardestroyer? Please. The Empire can manage it. In the end...I don't want credits. I want your finished products. That's my price."
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Post by Nicademus Delvardus IV on Jan 31, 2016 0:01:55 GMT -8
The Voice's helmet hid the features of the person behind the mask, but if one could see it, his eyebrow would be raised slightly. Such a tall order just for a beginning price? It sounded more like the Quincys wanted the First Order to rearm them immediately and without delay. As the Voice suspected that the Supreme Commander would his own doubts as well, he knew that he could properly convey the concerns about this price Sylvia asked for.
You present a tall order, Sylvia of the Quincy Family. A rather tall and direct price for simply taking on your services. Even my master, the Supreme Commander, would wonder about the benefits gained by giving so much at once to your organization just for the services your syndicate can offer to our cause...
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Deleted
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Post by Deleted on Jan 31, 2016 11:10:44 GMT -8
As with all things in life - all things are negotiable. If one didn't ask, one didn't receive. Opening her mouth, Sylvia was about to retort, before a short cough to the side got her attention. One of the guards previously in the room stood a distance to the side, and Sylvia shot an apologetic look to the Voice before waving the guard over. The guard, handing her a small datapad, leaning in close and whispered in her ear for several long seconds. "What? So soon?" Snapped Sylvia, at the guard's words. And, the guard, apologetically, gave a small bow. Another string of words followed - interspersed with three distinct words "Commander Kael Khan", before Sylvia waved the rest away. Bowing, the guard made his way out of the room, and Sylvia regarded the Voice.
"I...underestimated my kinsmen. They act quickly under the command of my brother, Quincy Kael Khan." Sylvia leaned backward, contemplative, before leaning forward once more. "It's true, I ask for too much. But, then, understand our position - we number only in the thousands. Should something go awry...we could potentially be wiped out. On the other side of the coin, our services must fit the bill as it were..." Sliding a small holodisc towards the Voice, Sylvia gestured as the little machine whirred to life, displaying an aquatic planet filled with tiny islands. "So, lets even the playing field...we shall give you a sample of our services. By offering you the planet Fresia on a platter. This world has traditionally produced starships highly valued by insurrectionist groups, again, historically opposed to your institution. The Quincy have recently come into power here. We shall give you defense codes, sensor net gaps, and, most valuable of all, a large amount of black market information that can be used for you to take control. No mess, no fuss, simply your organization popping into space, and sending down forces to refill the old Imperial garrison on Coromon Aure, an abandoned military base on the planet. Our information will keep Incom in line - making for a smooth transition."
Sylvia waved her hand at the previous list. "Additionally, we will drop the request for fighter and starcraft support, instead, we will ask only for three subspace/holonet relay stations. One hundred Non-mass holonet hyperwave transceivers. One Hundred Subspace / Holonet relay satellites. And One hundred subminiature probe drones. We shall drop the Lormar station, and procure it for ourselves - but, the Order will supply us with Imperial grade space station transceivers, hyperwave antennas, and holonet transceivers - we will use our own resources to attach them to whatever we can get our hands on." Sylvia gestured then, and the guards came out of the cantina's back room. "This offer should be more than doable by your institution; half of our original offer, minus all starcraft, as well as a good faith gesture on our part by offering our holdings on an entire planet. Given, the Quincy are not prone to taking planets, but this one was strategically picked for our dealings. Now...I must leave. My brother most impatiently asks for an update. In person. Should you agree to our terms, you can send an encrypted burst transmission into Fresia's open orbit. Our forces will then respond with the information promised - and your forces shall deposit the goods agreed upon in Fresia's space port. We like to keep things low key, so please, no identifying marks or numbers. Future business, again, should you agree, will be done through encrypted burst transmission on a cycling frequency router located, again, in Fresia's orbit. Thank you for your time."
Sylvia stood then, and signaled to the guards, who came forward, de-activated the sensor/comm scrambler, and, as one, all gathered and left the cantina. Shortly later, Sylvia's ship, as well as several others (the elders from before) lifted off from the Bespin platforms and up into orbit.
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Anishinaabe First Nation
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Post by Anishinaabe First Nation on Jan 31, 2016 16:47:20 GMT -8
*A stream of warriors from the Anishinaabe First Nation roll into town on horseback in full regalia. The man in front, one serious barrel of FBI looks down with a stare that would melt frozen butter at but a glance saying in a cold voice*
"Aaniin"
*Some of the immense body of murmuring warriors in the background is distinct but broken and captured in only broken fragments*
“Did they say Aluminum Oven Mitts?”
“No I think it was Stainless Steel Jocks”
“What??”
"It’ Iron Fists….”
“What type of a stupid name is that?”
"Somebody with a deep inferiority complex came up with that one"
"Am Terrible Dumb is the leader"
“Where are we Toronto? That’s the last time that I go to sleep in that ship; every time I do we end up in some freakshow”
“This ain't Thunder Bay.”
“I think that we went to sleep in a movie theater”
“Well this ain’t a very good flick”
*The one of the figures at the front turns back waving a hand as he yells*
“KNOCK IT OFF!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”
*The horde falls silent. Another of the Chiefs speaks*
"Sorry, the boys are a bit stir crazy from the ship ride... space madness...."
*Another man speaks*
"Would you know where the IF are?"
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An Tiarna Dubh
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Is minic a bhris beál duine a shrón ~ It is often that a person's mouth broke his nose
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Post by An Tiarna Dubh on Feb 1, 2016 5:36:26 GMT -8
*May shock many but the but contrary to popular belief the Anishinaabe First Nation are one disciplined crew. But they are intimidating in their stoicness.LA AL LA LA.... Please fill in the blanks*
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Anishinaabe First Nation
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Post by Anishinaabe First Nation on Feb 1, 2016 5:45:48 GMT -8
*he Anishinaabe First Nation are hot... And yes that's right, hot, hence why most of the women want us. Don't hate us because we're beautiful. THE IF STRIKES BACK*
"Do we get to meet that pointy eared guy who hung out with the captain??"
(And I don't even want to hear that double posting garbage)
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Anishinaabe First Nation
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Post by Anishinaabe First Nation on Feb 1, 2016 17:20:01 GMT -8
 *3500 men all turn and fire into the sky at one time*
"Wonder if any will whine about this?"THE IF STRIKES BACK!!!! ON CLOUD CITY WE SELL CRACK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
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Anishinaabe First Nation
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Post by Anishinaabe First Nation on Feb 1, 2016 17:26:51 GMT -8
WHOOAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!
*3500 guns cut the Emperor to peices*
"Who was that friggin thing?!???!!!!????"
*An answer came back as typical among the Nish as a question*
"What was that friggin thing???!???!???"
THE IF STRIKES BACK!!!! ON CLOUD CITY WE SELL CRACK!!!!!!!!!!!
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Anishinaabe First Nation
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Post by Anishinaabe First Nation on Feb 1, 2016 19:49:19 GMT -8
*3500 guns take aim in fire in unison at pigeons circling the planet*
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Liya Tawaza
The Unfair Advantage
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Post by Liya Tawaza on Feb 1, 2016 21:29:31 GMT -8
As they entered the armory, Jace glanced over and noticed the spark in Liya's eyes as they stopped in the entrance. He couldn't help but smile because of it, gazing over the vast repertoire as well. If he ever needed to get Liya a present for her birthday (if he ever found out) or some other special occasion, he knew at least the general theme with which to pursue. "No tank missiles? I thought we could at least arm that mountain of an ally we have meeting us there with something suitable for his size." He chuckled at the thought, his stride already directing him to the pistols. He already had his pistol and spare ammo in a pouch with him, but he needed something that Dante could use. There, a pair of SE-14 blaster pistols. Grabbing both of them, he returned to Liya and delivered his and Dante's weaponry. "That should just about do it." ::: Jace, Dante, do you copy? I’m in position. ::: Their acknowledgments came back almost at once. My arrival had been impossible to time in advance. Now that I was in place, they would make their moves. As I waited, I unpacked my shiny E-5s sniper rifle, and the tiny cutting torch I planned to use to breach the glass roof when the time came. Bored for the moment, I practiced using the scope to spy on the customers and their gambling techniques. I could practically read the faces of some of the cards at the sabaac tables three floors below. Dante was, rather predictably, seated at the table with what appeared to be the largest pot of all. A large, disgusting blob of a man seated directly across from Dante already held the Idiot and the Three of Coins in his chubby fingers. It wasn’t looking good for our hapless gambler.{ The Black Bantha }
*Making her way to the casino from her hotel three blocks away, the short, middle-aged woman in a white robe approached the spaceport-style security checkpoint at the main entrance. Her sharp black eyes peered right and left as she joined one of the entrance queues. She was suspicious of her surroundings after the mysterious com call she had received hours earlier, but the Syndicate had not left her much choice. Nervously tightening her brilliant blue sash as the line moved forward slowly, she rehearsed her story in her mind several times before the screeners reached her. But she need not have worried. Aside from a quick look at her long hair, which the security guard pulled gently aside (to inspect her neck), they waved her right through the checkpoint, with barely a glance at the id card labeled “Kim Zawadi.”**Her meeting was slated for the second floor, but she took her time about making her way upstairs. It wouldn’t do to be too obvious about it. Finally, she arrived, and made her way through the doors of the very cafe Liya had toured the previous day, sitting down at a reserved table with a roughly-looking blue-skinned Twi’lek male, an unusually thin Trandoshan woman with a smug expression on her face, and an old man in a robe similar to Kim’s, who seemed extremely nervous. At the sight of Kim taking the fourth and final seat at the table, however, he seemed to relax considerably.*{ Above The Black Bantha }I froze, my idle investigation of the sabaac tables coming to a halt, as I caught sight of a familiar figure entering the second-floor cafe. I wished that I had been paying just slightly better attention to the extrances. I’d seen a woman of Kim’s height and weight, wearing her traditional Follower martial robes, but I’d missed her face, and that made me even so slightly uneasy. I was a perfectionist about these sorts of capers, and I wanted to know everything that could possibly be known about a situation. Knowing Kim’s state of mind could end up being valuable.By now it was almost fully dark outside, and no one by the sharpest-eyed alien looking upward from within the well-lit gambling hall would have noticed my black form as I slid out onto the roof, and began testing the laser torch on the glass. It cut surprisingly easily, and holding the torch at an angle, I cut out a circle of glass, about half a meter in diameter, angling the cut inward so that the plug could not fall through the hole and give away my mischief. The rushing sound of air was unavoidable, but I was counting on the music downstairs to drown out those clues as well. Stepping carefully over to the hole, I placed one foot on the plug, locked my suction cups, and lifted the piece of glass out of its resting place with my boot. Now I had everything I needed in order to drop Dante and Jace their weapons, or provide cover fire from above. |
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Mórrígan Dubh
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Post by Mórrígan Dubh on Feb 2, 2016 20:22:43 GMT -8
*Four Sentinal class transports docked at the spaceport of Cloud City. Mórrígan exited and walked calmly away. Seeing the mass of men on horseback, so ridiculously out of place, she advanced on them. The closer she came to the men anticipation rose in her heart but her face bore none the evidence of this inner feeling. Comming up on the men obviously leading the crew she nodded speaking*
"Dia Dhaoibh a chairde mhaith, is mise Mórrígan Dubh, Banríon na Óglaigh na Iarndóideanna."
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Anishinaabe First Nation
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Post by Anishinaabe First Nation on Feb 2, 2016 20:45:09 GMT -8
*The leaders of the Anishinaabe First Nation all bowed in unison to Mórrígan. The men in general fell silently into a uniform mass of warriors, and they too bowed. Even the horses lowered heads to the sovereign of the IF. 3500 strong the warriors stood proud awaiting the order*
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Mórrígan Dubh
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Post by Mórrígan Dubh on Feb 2, 2016 20:56:09 GMT -8
*Mórrígan gracefully accepted the homage and after allowing the men to collect themselves spoke firmly*
"We are going to Manaan; the men here more then have this planet under control. With a ship positioned in orbit that is all necessary to hold this territory...."
*And at that the mass Exodus began with Mórrígan supervising the transportation of men onto Sentinels and off to the awaiting SD*
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Anishinaabe First Nation
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Post by Anishinaabe First Nation on Feb 2, 2016 21:00:24 GMT -8
*Without delay and in an exceptionally disciplined manner the men began the transfer. One, two, three, all four Sentinel began the move from the city*
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Mórrígan Dubh
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Post by Mórrígan Dubh on Feb 2, 2016 21:20:16 GMT -8
*The movement of several thousand bodies using 4 Sentinel class transports was not exactly an easy task. Mórrígan was far more than drop dead looks with a wild temper though and she began bartering with any and all available ships to smooth out and speed up the transfer. An assortment of craft at the docking bay took to the tedious work and in their totality these small steps made great for strides. A steady stream of ships filled to capacity with men lifting off from the docking bay as other ships returned only to pick up more men and rise up out of the docking bay again... and again. The transfer carried on for hours*
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Anishinaabe First Nation
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Post by Anishinaabe First Nation on Feb 2, 2016 21:35:30 GMT -8
*The men quietly continued the withdrawal from Cloud City but not without protest but hardly slilently*
"Did you see the ti....
*A voice cut the man off*
"Shut up man! That's the Queen! Have you lost it?"
"Where are we going now?"
"Who cares; this place is wigging me out."
"We didn't even do anything here."
"That's because we were waiting for her you idiot!"
"This better be worth it"
*The mumbling went on, some coherent; some no more than a scarcely audible hum. With the rattle the line too moved ahead and departed as fast as could be accommodated*
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zabrak Twin Dubh
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Post by zabrak Twin Dubh on Feb 15, 2016 19:29:06 GMT -8
*The girls walk down the street calmly yet carefully. They are bombshells and it they know it. The two are preoccupied. One with shiny horns and no hair smoking a cigarette asks the other*
"Doz how in the hell did we get here? Aren't we going to Manaan?
*The other responds fast*
"Bez, you idiot we walked away from home ourselves. But yes, Manaan it is.... Now just how are we going to get the phuc out of here."
*The pair walked on.*
*The night life on Bespin was steamy to say the least and a few more of these for two young girls is not wise. Luckily the two had the wisdom to understand that. Time was not a neutral element; things needed be dealt with fast.
Chance and fate are called the great equalizers by some, or at least Bez had been told that An Tiarna had said such. She smiled as a chance play developed. Two crew men were fighting over loading a shipping transport. The vessel was clearly marked as going to Manaan in… looking at the time on a wall sign… 12 minutes. As the two slapped each other down like school children Bez jaw dropped to her chest; the altercation was over who would close the open hanger to the cargo bay of the ship. Grabbing Doz by her ponytail Bez muttered*
<<Shut up>>
*Then shoving her sister along tossed he own carry bag with all the personal effects she owned into the open door. Looking around Bez took a bag from Doz and tossed it in too. Doz was set to drop her sister when an eye caught the destination sign. With a shrug she grabbed Bez and threw her into the cargo bay and with a look around went in right behind.
Laying waiting the girls kept their eyes open but vision down to avoid detection. The fistfight had ended and the men could be heard moving closer*
-Labourer 1-
“Well I am shutting this door – I need a drink”
*A rough response came back*
- Labourer 2-
“Do what you want – I am leaving.”
*The door shut and muffled voices could be heard decreasing in volumn until there was nothing. At that time the engines of the ship flared up.
Doz commented*
-Doz-
“We’re going!”
*And then the ship lifted off and they were on their way*
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Mórrígan Dubh
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Post by Mórrígan Dubh on Feb 20, 2016 13:37:16 GMT -8
*The Sentinel sets down in the hanger. 10 Togorian Commando with a ugly fella fat fella sporting an obscene porn star mustache pants riding low rolls out*
-Wide Load-
"Plumbing"
*The men start moving gallon barrels down to the lower level. The septic tank is opened and Wide Load begins working. As he is bent over Togs attempt to avert their eyes from the hideous crack revealed on account of his sagging waistline. One Tog pukes but luckily he has an open septic tank to hurl into. Hard is the work but many strong hands and a few dollies snagged from a scared civilian makes for easy work. With the unloading complete they take to immediately packing the sewage tank with the barrels. Many hands make for short work they say. Togorian hands make work move along quite fast indeed. Wide Load more than knows what he is doing. Work carries on at a steady pace*
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Mórrígan Dubh
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Post by Mórrígan Dubh on Feb 20, 2016 15:24:08 GMT -8
*After some time Wide Load speaks*
-Wide Load-
"Done"
*Wide Load speaks to a resident civil servant. What a conundrum. With a massive outlandishly explosive ship allowed to just land their is no way around doing anything but prepare. The shocked civil servant takes off and an alarm sounds. The unloading and packing finished 3 Togorians, with backup detonators stay standing watch over the septic tank. The ship lifts off and leaves the hanger*
****EVACUATION****
****EVACUATION****
****EVACUATION****
Sentinel
w/ 200 40 gallon barrels packed with high ammonia nitrate compound fertilizer and tibanna gas.
10 Togorian Commando
Plumber: Wide Load
***Septic tank loaded with 100 40 gallon barrels packed with high ammonia nitrate compound fertilizer and tibanna gas guarded by 3 Togorian Commando
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*3500 men all turn and fire into the sky at one time* 
