Juvex City

Bateman took a seat while the slave just stood one sidestep from the door silently. Bateman opened his suitcase that reviled brochyrs and contracts, also, a tatooing device.

-Bateman-
"Well, it happens that the parcel Gaia here is holding needs to be given to a woman who looks a lot like her, but in a yellow format. The only problem is, nobody should put eyes on its content but the woman you are supposed to give it to. She is right now the art teacher at the Corellian jedi Accademy.
She will give you an other Twilek to take back here. It sounds simple, but if it was, we wouldnt need your talent, now would we?"

-Bateman-
"The main objective is to put this box and the key for it into the hands of Five, the twilek in question. And you need to do this without rousing suspicion. As long as these criterias are met, you may do whatever you wish and how you wish.

Payment is twenty thausand credits. Five now for expanses, the rest upon delivery of the twilek Five will intoduce you to."

Gaia the Forewoman of the crucible, and banshee held the box on the sides with her fingers, so it seemed rather light.

Taking a datapad from his suitcase, Bateman wired the money to the account on the chip and saved the contact information. 5000 '7. Gaie put the nicely ornated mahogoni box on the table, and left shortly followed by Bateman.

-Bateman-
"Man of action! I like that. Well, good luck and good travel!"

Mak took another swig of his drink, savoring the burn. He took extra care to speak privately to his captain, Bateman listening in on their huddle before rubbed him the wrong way.
It still seems too much like merc work. We should be getting at least sixty percent of a haul. If it's privateerin' we're doin', they should be gettin' a slice of our pie, not takin' the pie and leavin' a slice for us, if you follow me cap'n.[/quote]


Bateman made an effort to not sound like he was evesdropping. The feeorin made an effort for him not to, and god damnit, thats a huge feeorin. He sure as hell didnt want to win against him in space-chess. But, he wanted this crew on his side. Why? Because he didnt want to win in space-chess against any of them.

-Bateman-
"Captain, if I may widen your view a bit more about that sixty percent and what you buy with it. Lets say you say nay to me and mine and take your crew out to the stars to earn that high proffit you are looking for, like everyone else who dreams of a life of ease and quick cash. You will succeed, yes my friends, you will succeed. One hit, two hits, a third scheme, maybe even a heist. You might be one in a hundred who do make their future on these hits, and you can stretch out on some beach with a cocktail in your hand for the rest of your life, living the life.
But lets say you arent incredibly skilled AND lucky. Lets say your fifth hit brings you twenty tons of frozen fish.
Lets say, that with the hit you gained the fish you also alerted a large galaxy wide government of your identity and acts. You will be sitting with 20 tons of frozen fish slowly defreezing in your hold, with every nearby port wanting to en-prison or kill you. Where will you make profit of that fish? And who will clean your ship so it doesnt stink anymore? Where will you spend your money if you are wanted all over the galaxy?

With sixty percent, you are buying a safehaven. You are buying a market to sell everything and anything you get your hands on, and you buy safety. The merchandice you sell to us will never be tracked back to you. And most importantly, you will be given the chance to partake in larger operations, just like the Nal Hutta one.

For that sixty percent you buy access to a network that is galaxy wide, effective, and profitable. Lets say you get incarcerated... for that sixty percent you buy a grantee that someone will come for you. Either pay you out of a situation or simply breaking you from prison. Especially if you are a good earner.

Contemplate who and where else you would be given this freedom and this support. All is asked for it is Sixty percent of what you find, and a bit of recon on a couple worlds."




A Rather tall and thin man approached the Mantis Patrol Craft. He was suited for business and was armed with a suitcase. One might not take his gear as dangerous, but in some cases a man armoured in a business suit and armed with contracts can do more damage then a Basilisk War Droid with a bad sense of direction in a China Plate store. He was sided by a yellow twilek slave in plain cloths and a slaves collar wearing an E-11 blaster and a vibrosword.
They waited for any kind of livesigns coming from the ship, making sure no guns were pointed at them by positioning.




Ones eyes at once popped open as her Datapad peeped. She got up slowly, trying not to provoke anything from the sith with the energyweapon under her pillow. See, thats the intresting thing about slaves. They see everything but not everyone sees them. Of course, that depends on local Culture, like 5 on Corellia is kinda known and spotted at once since there arent that many slaves in the corellian jedi accademy.
She got up and checked Nysstes cloths for anything that stood out (like a Dathomirian blood bug, or any changes that might hurt her) and folded them on a chair beside the bed ready to be donned. She checked the toilet for traps or explosives. There is nothing as easy as to kill a female sith with a tiny bladder, a pressure plate and a thermal det. She made sure the refresher pumped actual water and not lets say... toxic waste that peels your skin off. She tasted the water to make sure it was not poisoned.

She went through the room, as she would go through the rooms in days to come, to make sure it is secure and nothing would harm the Juvex Imports Exports investment, The Sith Nysste.
Not that Nysste had anything to fear from Juvex Import Export in its own headquarters, but she wanted Nysste to understand that this kind of safety measures are constant and will be constant. One also thought that nysste was a bit... naive against the world. Not only sith could kill sith. She knew this. She and her sisters had killed sith.

She donned her stealth belt with the E-11 blaster and put on the bandolier holding the sheathed vibrosword to her back and sat down to watch over the room untill Nysste woke.
Just after prepearing a quick breakfast of cut up sausages, vegetables, breads and mild sauces.

-Bateman-
"As long as you hold yourself to Hutt space. The Support fleet is there. And we uphold one very important rule. No hits in sistems close to juvex. We dont shit where we eat.

Bateman then opened a drawer and put up a bunch of contracts giving them one each.

-Bateman-
"All that is left is a couple autographs for our records. Dont worry, the records are protected by a nice big safe. And even if it would be broken into, there are a couple nice incindinary safeguards to make sure only those authorised to read them can access."




-Bateman-
"Seeing my records, you dealt with Ms Atia and mr Bates. Unfortunetley, MR Bates was horribly murdered and I have taken his place, I am Patrick Bateman, and welcome back to Juvex. We are always happy to see the Bloodrage Pirates as guests. Can I offer dinner and drinks, or would you just want to get to the point?"

Mr Bateman was calm, even with all these dangerous people around him. As if he was used to it or something. Cold blood. THe twilek took a step back to be able to see all the Bloodrage Pirates. With her weapons and the stealth belt, she was a threat.

-Bateman-
"Three, if you would be so nice, could you please clear out the Rhodian?"

-3-
"Yes, Mr Bateman."

The Twilek ran off towards the exit and disapeared.

-Bateman-
"The Rhodian is a liked pub, will fill any wishes you might have. So, What have you been up to for the last couple of years? Any good heists? How is pirate life nowdays?"

He started walking slowly after the twilek, motioning the Bloodrage Pirates to follow.

-1-
"I checked your sponge for poison needles and your hygiene products for acid."

One could get pretty paranoid while under the protection of a banshee. Especially if she grins deviously like One.

-1-
"same for the towels."

She turned stern again, grin forgotten.

-1-
"The troops assemble at eight standard, so we have a hour to get ready. You will get your report on ship status on the bridge at Eight fourty Five, we have preserved an air corridor at Nine to lift. We should be out of system by nine fifteen."