Faction Another Day on the Farm

[Anakin Stormrunner]

On Frostwythe, it was tradition for the natives to hold a biannual farmer's festival. The festivals were always well attended. The farmers, their families and crowds of people from all parts of the planet and surrounding systems would be attending. However, not all were allowed to attend.Many farmers forced their workers to stay and watch the lands. Like much farm work, it was a dull and hard job, made doubly so by the thought of candied fruits and seasonal games that the festival contained.

It was becoming too much for the unhappy workers. Across the planet, the workers of several farms had come to a decision. They had reached out to one of the numerous corporations in the area. Be it out of spite, or desperation, or any number of reasons, they had offered to sell the lands to the AgCorp, one of the largest of its kind. Secretly, they had contacted the business and arranged to meet with several of their representatives. As the festival lit up the sky and laughter filled the air around it, the workers and representatives met to discuss prices and jobs. AgCorp cared little that the workers couldn’t officially sell the land. The legalities didn’t matter in the face of the opportunity this presented. All they saw was the potential worth of the land and what they could accomplish with it. Among the potential sellers was the land around the Golba Delta. The owners were strongly adverse to selling, even in the face of AgCorp’s many offers. The land was by far the most fertile, the crowning jewel of the entire planet.

Far away, across fields of grass and carefully grown crops, the festival was in full swing. Voices filled the air, mixing with the scent of pies and cakes and other sweets. A grand display of the local crops cooked into familiar and unfamiliar dishes. Children ran through the rows, giggling as they went, and adults lined up for the games and competitions that could be found at every turn. Drinks flowed freely and promised a night of drunken celebration. None knew of the decisions being made back home. None expected to return to an empty farm and an order to stop their trespassing. It was a night of secrets and plots. Hidden knives and brewing mistrust. All hidden by the bright lights and joyful laughter of a celebration. A final moment of joy before they lost everything.

Objective 1: Investigate and stop the workers from selling the lands to the Corpos!

Objective 2: Enjoy your time at the Festival!

Objective 3: Bring your own!

Spoiler

Tags
Airal Thamne
Anakin Stormrunner
Aren D'Shade
"Bloody" Bill Renfroe
Brie
Cartri Keswoll
Cassus Akovin
Chelara "Chel" DuCote
Chloe Santhe
Daiya
Deryn Kaaldos
Elkin "Big Cheese" Magor
Gray Venasir
Haden Del
@Helena
Jerec Asyr
Kole Eckttor
Kimiko
QEMD-15 Echo
Saija Kwann
Spark
5-WCH (Switchblade)
Subject 648 Slipknot
Xan Deesa
Yula Perl

 

[Hawthorn]

Objective: Bring your own
Tags: Anyone who is interested, just hop in. Anakin Stormrunner
Location: Frostwyth celebration - Outside a pub

Musical Ambiance​

On Frostwyth, the coolness of the evening nipped like a jackal, yet that didn’t stop the children from screeching and playing. Their sounds nearly drowned out the clinking of glasses, the rumble of hundreds, if not thousands, of voices trying to talk over one another. Hawthorn pulled his coat around him tighter, black gloved hands buttoning it up for added protection. He passed through well decorated stalls, where the aroma of food wafted after all who passed by. Yet, all of it was wasted on him. The only way he ‘saw’ or ‘smelled’ was through the implants. However, he basked in the radiance of the throng anyway. He could still sense them, feel what was going on and he enjoyed the energy. To be fair, these festivals confounded him something fierce. It was not something he had grown up with, and well over a century later, he still just couldn’t understand them. But enjoy them? Oh, he most certainly could.

You see, it was this time of year that the finest tobacco in the system was brought out. Grown, aged, rolled just perfectly, it was a dream come true. It never grew better than it did here. Alas, it was business, and not his one true pleasure that brought him to this agrarian world. The Agarian pulled his wide brimmed hat down, so it partially covered his nearly featureless face, and slipped inside a cozy little bar at the edges of the festivities. A bell dinged as he entered, the sound echoed off the old well-polished wood furniture. It was sparsely populated; most patrons having chosen to spend their time outside with the festivities. The dulcet tones of Quenk Jazz floated through the air, and the fungus saddled up the bar. Black gloved hands reached into his pockets, and he pulled out two sets of credits. One was placed near the bar tender, the other to the patron on his right. “One Yub Nub, no ice.” Hawthorn's rough, gravely voice echoed out through the room.

As the bartender went to make the drink, the patron to the PI’s right took the credits, and where they had been placed a datapad, which was quickly scooped up and placed into an inner pocket in the mushroom’s coat, right next to his trusty stun baton.
“Thanks.”

The human next to him shook his head. “Captain…I…I'm sorry.” With a sign, the detective patted the human on the back. “I’m not your Captain anymore. I appreciate the help. Enjoy the drink, Dave. Then get back to your family and if they ask about me, tell them everything.” With a push, he turned and walked out of the bar. Hawthorn knew he was being suspicious, but he simply didn’t have the time. It was a race against the clock. After he got outside, he took a cigarette from the ever-present pack in a front pocket and lit it. After a deep puff of it the datapad was taken out and analyzed it, hoping for a miracle.

How was he supposed to find the stolen container of Nagnol in this mess?​

 

[Aaran Tafo]

Objective I: Unionize.
Tags: Yula Perl
Location: Festival Outskirts.

Idly, he munched on a handful of sugary pastries from the paper bag in his hands. Savouring the warmth and spices as they tickled his senses. For the briefest of moments he could ignore the bitter chill and just be lost in the sensation. He had traded his robes for his usual combo of flight jacket. The monk had become a spacer once more. Hood of his jacket pulled up over his head to protect hsi ears from the chill. The bandages around his eyes replaced with wraparound ssunglasses to hide empty sockets.

After all, he was here to blend in and look normal. His presence here on this world was meant to be a vacation. An escape from the madness of war and the tedium of paperwork. Frostwythe was close enough the Core that he would not be gone for long and was only a short jump away if he was needed. But it was far enough away from the Galactic Alliance that he could convince himself that it was just like old times where he had not a care in the world and could wander freely.

But as usual. The Force had other plans for him. What he had thought was an auspicious meeting with his bandmate had instead turned to something more as the situation was explained to him. Corporations muscling in, disgruntled workers acting on impulse and making a hasty decision that would benefit none but the wealthy who hoarded their wealth. The whole situation left a sour taste in his mouth.

So naturally, he joined in to help stick it to the man. His natural distaste for large bodies of authority was coming to the surface as he agreed to aid the Zeltron in her quest. "So how do we want to handle this?" He asked, popping another of the small pastries into his mouth. Offering hte bag to Yula if she had any hunger pangs. "Easiest way to get this sorted would be to just convince the workers that they won’t benefit long term." Be tilted his head to the side. "So I think one of us works the ringleader. While the other works the crowd." He offered, trying to at least have some semblance of a plan in mind before getting into a delicate situation. "Convince them to make a better deal with the landowners as opposed to selling out to heartless Corpos who won’t care for them."

"Although you can take the lead if you've got other ideas. This is your gig, not mine." He was out of his depths here. Simply falling back on negotiation tactics that he knew might work from his Jedi training. Finding a compromise that worked for everyone involved. But maybe things were handled differently here. This was more a learning experience than a mission for him.

 

[Yula Perl]

Objective | 1
Tags | Daiya | Aaran Tafo

“Thanks.”

Yula accepted the bag readily, poking through the crinkled layers of thin paper with two fingers. She retrieved a small pastry, held in a pincer grasp, and took a bite. While Aaran offered his view, she chewed the flakey treat thoughtfully.

“You’re right.” She cleared her throat and, looking as though she were about to speak again, paused to retrieve a flask from her jacket. A quick swig sent the remainders of the pastry washing down, the burn of alcohol mingling with the sweet spices from the pastry. She offered to flask to Aaran. Whether he took it or not, she would continue.

“The easy solution would be to take out the Corpos before they can make this deal. It’s also the most temporary solution.” Crossing both arms over her abdomen to keep warm against the chill of Frostwythe, Yula’s gaze focus on Aaran as she considered his thoughts. She had been as surprised as he was when they’d run into eachother, and Yula figured that she had nothing to lose by pitching the Shadowrunner’s latest project. Although she’d come to know Aaran primarily through their music work, Zaavik had vouched for his ability as a Jedi. Trusted help was always welcome.

“The farmers and the Corpos both want to take advantage of the workers. The workers won’t gain emancipation though the Corpos, but right now they think that selling to them is their best option. We have to convince them that there’s a third option.” She gestured to Aaran with a point of her chin, as if to underscore the point he'd made about empowering the little guy. “But I’d be cautious about painting the Corpos in a bad light from the start. Then we’ll look like we have an agenda, and the workers won’t trust us.”

She passed the bag to Daiya. The girl was good with a blaster and could handle herself in a fight, but this wasn’t a petty bar squabble. She was full of surprises though, and Yula wondered just how far Daiya’s range extended. “What do you think, kid? Got any experience playing mediator?”

The Zeltron squinted against the horizon, eyeing a blur of dots peaked over the skyline, heading their way. The worker representative and Corpo delegation would be arriving soon.

 

[Pogu Tucs]

Objective 3:bring you own
Tags: anyone
Location, the festival, in the pub

"One shot of spotchka." Pugo tells the bartender. The Rodian pulled the bottle of glowing blue liquor from behind the counter, poured it into the glass and passed it to the cloaked Selkath. As he began to stir the drink with his claw, he began to ponder about the unusual job he was given. It was not strange for him to be given an assassination job, but at a farmer festival? This was not his normal work. But it didn't bother him, all he cared about was the credits. He swallowed the drink and walked outside. Pugo passed by someone smoking but barley noticed, and went towards a landing ship while still hiding amongst the crowd.


When Pugo got close enough to take a look, Pugo saw a finely dressed human with many armed guards emerge from the star yacht. "So, this is the target." He whispered to himself. The finely dressed man was talking to a cargo lifter and handed him a handful of credits and walked away with his guards. Tucs then saw a metal tank with a toxicity sign on the side. Tucs recognized it immediately, nagnol, very dangerous. He wonder what someone like the finely dressed man would need ten gallons of nagnol, unless there was more to it than meets the eye.


He decided to investigate the ship before following the man. There were only two guards at the entrance which he quickly took care of with a snap of a neck and a shot of his blaster. As he sneaked in he felt himself becoming more and more uneasy, "What could be really going on here?" The selkath hunter asked himself. He decided to try and find the well dressed man's office. After half an hour of searching he found it, and was shocked of what he found. After searching through the desk, he found a list of people on a holoprojector many of which were marked as "TERMINATED". He then quickly figured out that the well dressed man was Turba Kogvog, rival of the Darkwire, and a deadly one of that. "This must be why they want him dead." The selkath realized.

Now that he knew what he was up against, he had to get off the ship, but first, he would set a little trap for a last resort. He started by taking the nagnol and wiring the vacuum seal lock to the power diverter and then channeling the air flow towards the ventilation shaft, this would make it where when the ship started it's engines, the ship would be flooded with nagnol gas. Finally he stuck 8 thermal detonators on the reactor core and linked them to remote activation, that way he could control when the bombs blew up. "Now" he said to himself "I can still get him even if my shots miss" and without another though, he started to move towards Kogvog's position.

 

[Daiya]

Nerf-milk cheese curds. There was just nothing like it in the galaxy, the way the semi-firm texture gave way when she bit into it, the squeaky sound as her teeth slipped through the fermented food. Daiya remembered enjoying the green-tinged treat occasionally as a youngling, and finding that it had become her favorite thing to request when others wanted candy or sweets..

There had been nothing like it for years, though. Not since Eiko, who had often gone out of his way to get the cheese fresh. Tel and Shenn had tried once, concocting a plan with a trader, but they couldn't master the fine art of preserving the nerf-milk's delicate composition long enough to turn it into curds. The results became some thing more like store-bought, pale-white in color and lacking the tell-tale squeak. Nor did they have the dull astringency that came along with her memory, the chalky taste that kept others her age from enjoying what the girl craved instead. After a while, Daiya stopped asking for them elsewhere once it was clear nothing could quite live up to her memory of the food.

"Playing mediator?" The girl asked, tossing a glance to her partner for the job. Daiya was already interested when Yula asked her to come along on a job, even if the girl didn't know the woman very well, she was in a bit of a tight spot anyway with credits. When the Zeltron woman explained it would be happening on Froswythe, it didn't exactly inspire the young shadowrunner. Until the memory of nerf-milk cheese curds rose to the surface again a day later, and suddenly Daiya was eager to venture out to the farming world for a chance to find some fresh curds at the festival.

Assuming they could get back in time before it was over.

"I can usually sweet talk someone out of info, if that's what you mean." Daiya flashed Yula a mischievous grin, guessing that the woman could figure out how she accomplished that. Even if girlish innocence didn't always work so much anymore, the teen still could pull off a bright-eyed naïveté, with easy access to tears in a pinch. Especially if they were genuine. "But I kind of like taking out the Corpos, myself."

It might be temporary, but what wasn't? The devilish chill that met them on the outskirts of the festival blew another shiver down her spine, as if to scold her for the thought of it. She knew she wasn't wrong, though. Tomorrow, the festival grounds would be empty again. The array of speeders parked nearby would by gone, and the only hints left from the day would be the animal droppings, littered trash, and the footprints in the frost-muddled soil.

The cold was temporary, too, but right now it was threatening to make icicles out of her bones. Taking the bag into her hands made them flex around the thin material, and her grip was a little less reliable than Daiya would like. She should have worn more clothes today, her jacket was made to repel rain and crisp temperatures. She didn't get how the Froswythe younglings at the festival seemed to run around with bare arms or short pants without a care. As she bit into one of the pastries, her mouth savored the warmth of the treat.

They were no cheese curds, but she could make do for the moment.

"What about just making the Corpos tell the truth?" Daiya asked, trying to shrug casually without it turning into a shiver. She handed the bag back towards the pair, either Aaran or Yula could have the last one. The girl didn't know the man at all, but he seemed to have some head for strategy. Better than she did, anyway, though that didn't stop the girl from tossing out her idea. "They're just farmhands, right? Maybe AgCorp sent someone expecting to deal with just farmhands, not us. So all we have to do is poke or corner the Corpos enough until they slip and the game is up."

Aaran Tafo Yula Perl​

 

[Aaran Tafo]

Objective I: Unionize.
Tags: Yula Perl Daiya
Location: Festival Outskirts.

It took him a moment to realise that Yula was holding out the flask to him. The lack of audio cue coupled with his blindness took him a moment to release the gesture. Before he politely palmed the flask the flask and took a polite swig. He was not normally one to consume alcohol during his duty. But it was not like his current circumstances could be considered duty could it? This was ultimatley an economic affair. The nuanced nature of it was typically one that the Jedi would stay out of. His order usually more concerned with the bigger picture than something as small as this.

But he was here anyway. Meddling when he was not sure if he should be. The doubt caused him to take another swig. Before handing the flask back to yula. "Thank you." Came his subdued reply, enjoing the sensation of the burning liquid warming his insides. Taking that internal fire. He stoked it eveer so slightly. Breathing on it with the Force, allowing it to warm his body and regulate his temperature against the bitter chill.

"Ousting the Corpos is a reasonable enough tactic. But that only solves half of the issue." Aaran stated calmly, his tone gentle as he addressed Daiya. "The farmhands by the end are still left with nothing. They'll still be bitter and looking to find some escape." Granted, there was merit in first ensuring that the Farmhands saw that their saviours would be no better than the people currently exploiting them. It mostly came down to empowering them to make a stand as opposed to finding a way out.

"But it is a good place to start." He reassured Daiya. Not putting her idea down, even encouraging it. "I think you might be able to do that well. They'll underestimate you, it will make them sloppy. If they admit shenanigans are afoot first, it doesnt make it look like we have an agenda." Granted, they did have an agenda. It was just one that involved empowering the workers out of a mix of altruism and a desire to deny corporate fat cats.

His head tilted to the side slightly. "From there, I thin k Yula and I would be able to get the Workers thinking of other solutions. " He smiled slightly. "Does that sound like a plan to everyone?" He asked. "We go in, mess up some deals, empower the working class. Then dinner as my treat."

 

[Yula Perl]

Objective 1

Tags| Daiya | Aaran Tafo

Resting against her parked speeder, Yula kept an open ear to both Daiya and Aaran’s suggestions. Situations like this had cropped up often in the outer rim, and so the Judges often settled disputes over land, work, and anything under the sun. Words and charisma were handy, but sometimes violence was really the best option.

Maybe it wouldn’t come to that today.

“Sounds good to me. Especially the part where I don’t have to pay for dinner.” With any luck, this would be a quick job, with the festival still in swing by the time this issue was settled.

Unfolding her arms from across her chest, Yula received the flask back from Aaran and tucked it into her jacket pocket. She popped the last pastry into her mouth just as the approaching speeders came far enough within eyeshot for her to make out the AgCorp logo stamped onto the side of one of the transports.

“This could get ugly.” Her voice lowered suddenly, carrying the chill of the wind. “Even if our goal is a peaceful solution, let’s be ready for anything.” Closing her eyes, the Zeltron took a slow, deep inhale of the frigid air. I sound like a fething Jedi. How gratifying it would have been to cut the Corpos off at the head. If the shadowrunners had found out about this sooner, maybe there would have been time to ambush the AgCorp delegation.

The speeder trucks slowed to a stop near the trio, repulsors kicking up fresh powder. It was clear which speeder belonged to which group; the doors of the sleek, emblemized speeder slid open to reveal a pair of well-dressed humanoids, one nearly as pale as the snow with a contrast of dark hair, and a Keshiri with lavender skin. Both men wrinkled their noses at the motley crew, but straightened their suit jackets with purpose as the farmhands hopped out of their dingy transport.

“I’m sorry, but who are you?” The Keshiri man addressed the Darkwire group with a polite tone, but the note of irritation in his voice did not go unnoticed. He patted his finely coiffed silver hair with one hand, before using it to gesture to the trio.

Yula pinned on a courteous smile that mirrored the man’s tone. “We’re here with Frostwythe’s best interest in mind. As are you, I’m sure.” She took a step forward, hands held out to her sides and palms facing upwards in a gesture of openness. “My name is Yula; this is my intern Daiya, and our associate, Aaran.” Her focus shifted from the businessmen to the workers, a group of five burly men and two women who looked as if they’d been shaped by a life of hard labor. She’d leave the others to elaborate on their introductions if they so chose.

 

[Anakin Stormrunner]

Tags: Hawthorn

Several Hours Earlier​

Snow piled up along the sides of the paths. Flakes dusted the heads of any partygoers to be. It was a sight all together foreign to the Amavikkan. He had witnessed whirling storms of sand before, been blessed to stand beneath the open sky as it rained. But never before had he seen snow. Many of his past escapades had been on hutt planets, marshes and deserts, humid or dry, it was almost always warm. The handful of jobs he'd taken to planets with snow had been at the wrong time of the year to ever see it.

It was beautiful, blanketing the ground in a white that sparkled like so many stars. It coalesced on his hair and the tops of his wings, which were puffed up in an attempt to keep them warm. "Hey Ani!" A voice cut through the reverie. "You comin or what?" A thick furred togorian called to him from across the snow field that would soon become the fair grounds. She was a former slave like him. Born and raised on this planet, she had bought a farm upon her freedom and hired help to work the fields. Of course, those farm hands tended to disappear after a year or two.

Anakin laughed. With a powerful flap, water blue wings launched him into the air and over towards Nayra. "You could have walked you know." She spoke with a smirk, even as she thrust a crate of tent poles into his arms. "Maybe, but da snow makes it 'ard."

When Nayra had asked for help setting up the festival, Anakin hadn't even paused before agreeing. The two were good friends, and the promise of free booze afterwards didn't deter his decision.

Now
​

Anakin wandered through the festival. He wore feathers of varying colors in his hair, a local custom, and a bright eyed smile on his face. Children laughed, sprinting through the paths with laughter and screams. Unlike the adults, many had their faces painted with varying designs. Each one symbolic for some deity or important element in nature. They were a farming community, and their religion was based around much of the same principles.

The gaggle of children rushed past Anakin, barely paying the man any mind. They bumped into his legs and his chest and old habit sent him checking his person for any stolen goods. There were none, as expected, but on both Denon and Tatooine it would have been a different story entirely.


Before long, the cold began to bite at his fingers and tips of his talons. Anakin made a beeline for the bar at the edge of the festival.

The door closed with a thud, cutting off the bitter cold from outside. Red faced and wild eyed, Anakin swept towards the bar and settled himself on a stool. "Someding warm." He told the bartender, "Don't matter what." The man gave him a nod and before long a steaming mug of something was set before him.

Anakin had never been one for alcohol. He didn't mind a good drink now and then but the idea of it was still foreign to him. Slaves had never been allowed any, and afterwards the thought had never held much appeal. Nevertheless, he would freely admit that whatever he had been given was good. Spicy and warm, the duel nature of the blue purple liquid played across his tongue in a way that was difficult to find. It reminded him of home, in the spicy, earthy flavor. Yet at the same time it was something entirely different.

"Then get back to your family and if they ask about me, tell them everything.” The voice came from the right. To the seat directly next to him, a human and some sort of mushroom species conversed quietly. It sounded to him as if something was going down. Before he could say anything, the mushroom stood and left the bar. Anakin sighed, downed the rest of his drink, and followed.

He approached the man from the side, hoping the direction of it would keep from startling him. "Sounds like you're 'aving some trouble." He smiled, revealing sharpened fangs within his mouth. "I'm Anakin, I work wid Darkwire. Dought you maybe want some 'elp.

 

[Tuffio Tugmo]

BYOO
Pogu Tucs

"Need any help?" Tuffio asked Pugo. He'd been watching the Selkath for some time now. "Name's Tuffio Tugmo."

 

[Pogu Tucs]

After putting the holoprojector in his storage compartment in his arm, and grabbing a sniper rifle from one of the dead guards, he started on his way, but as he began running, he heard something behind him. "Need any help? My name is Tuffio Tugmo." He turned around and scoffed, "I don't need your help, this is my bounty, and I'm not going to be slowed down and share the profit with another hunter." The Selkath loaded the rifle "I'm a lone wolf and don't make attachments." The Selkath hunter then made his way to the announcement podium.

 

[Tuffio Tugmo]

BYOO
Pogu Tucs
Tuffio raised an eyebrow. "You sure? How long have you been hunting with Darkwire? You might need the help."

 

[Pogu Tucs]

"How long have you?" Pugo asked back, "I've been hunting for 20 years, that is how I am good at killing, but for Darkwire, first job."

 

[Tuffio Tugmo]

BYOO
Pogu Tucs
"I've been hunting for almost twenty-five years, over five years with Darkwire. You should know: Darkwire bounties are far harder than most." Tuffio said. He'd had plenty of experience.

 

[Pogu Tucs]

"I expected that, but I am not your everyday bounty hunter, I'm a deadly killer and I work ALONE!!" The Selkath spoke, starting to get angry, "if you want to help, then stay out of my way." He went into the shadows and disappeared towards Kogvog's position.

 

[Daiya]

Making a suggestion was so much different than actually taking control of the idea, everyone knew that. Well, the girl figure, everyone should know that. The more Aaran talked up her idea, the more than Daiya started to realize he wanted her to spearhead it. With a swallow of realization, she tossed her glance around, hoping that Yula would jump in for her. Until this moment, Daiya had just been along for the ride, now she was in the driver's seat? She wasn't even dressed for the part!

The teenager thought adults were supposed to be wiser than her.

Not even the sound of a free dinner soothed Daiya's frazzled nerves now. She groped her own clothes, looking for something, feeling over only the various essentials she had packed into her jacket pockets. Just a holdout blaster, utility knife, lipgloss, ident, credchip, the forgotten wrapper of a long-eaten candy bar, and a bag of glitter. Nothing. "Does anyone have a pen?"

"Oh!"

The girl opened her satchel, grabbing for the datapad she always kept by her side. Holding it firm, she pulled out the stylus from its holder, and packed everything else back in. Daiya explained as she put up her hair, "What? Give me some slack, you want me to talk with a Corpo and you didn't even give me a chance to change clothes. This is the best I can do."

Now Daiya was wearing her hair in a bun atop her head, much more awkward than one she would have been able to fix in front of a mirror, but it would have to do. And the stylus would have to keep it all in place for a while, the girl prayed, especially if things turned sour when the Corpos showed up.

It didn't take their reps long to arrive, or for the farmhands' more ragged version as well. They regarded the shadowrunners with skepticism, which made Daiya glad that Yula decided to handle the introductions. The teen was focused on the ground instead, her lips moving slightly as she tried to silently rehearse her practiced line again. She almost missed the part where Yula decided to name Daiya as an intern, the girl's shoulders straightened only a moment later, beaming at the Corpo group from a smile she had plastered on her face.

"I wasn't aware that a third party would be joining us, but I suppose..." the Keshiri's words drawled so long they nearly made a line extending from his mouth. He looked down at Daiya, examining her, surely waiting for her to misstep.

The girl's smile waned a little, but renewed as she clasped her hands in front of her and launched into her practiced diatribe, "Yes, we here at the Better Buyers Bureau are always willing to be on hand when there's a matter which needs integrity and oversight."

"Well, I've never heard of y—"

Daiya nodded, she had been expecting that, preparing just one more line in case her bluff was scrutinized. She had tried to throw together just about every corpo wonk word she knew, hoping that it sounded believable enough to take the Corpos by surprise. "That's a common reality, yes. We prefer to keep our activity more subdued for the benefit of both parties. The best outcome is when no one outside the negotiations itself knows of our involvement, you see? And we waive our consultant fees if the deal goes sour, that's how confident we are that you'll be satisfied."

"Of...course," the lavender-skinned Corpo said, not entirely convincingly.

It was too late to stop now. "That's a—excellent." Chit, she had almost messed up there, lapsing into her own word for a moment. Daiya held out her hand, putting Force behind her words this time as she tried to seal the deal of her coersion. "Now, do you have a datapad with the terms of the contract that I can review?"

Aaran Tafo Yula Perl​

 

[Aaran Tafo]

Objective I: Unionize.
Tags: Yula Perl Daiya

He could feel Daiya's surprise at the implication that she would be taking the lead in the negotiations. His lips quirked into a bemused smile as she prepared, pausing in his step as she got ready. It was either her or Yula who was going to take the lead.

After all, were they going to expect a blind mand to read a datapad? To be able to negotiate a contract when he could not read the fine print. As entertaining the prospect would be to watch, it would not serve them much here. "If things do get ugly. I'll let you handle the corpos. I'll keep the workers safe." He said, tone still slightly amused as he gave Yula a slight nod at her mentioning that things could turn violent.

Hopefully, it would not come to that. In fact, it was highly unlikely. Doing so would tip the Corpo's hands. Make them look bad in the eyes of their potential clients. After all, who the hell just started getting violent with a random third party? Regardless of how annoying they were. It was a tremendous show of force that would go a long way in damaging any future agreements.

For the briefest of moments, he was tempted to try and start something. Before he shook his head, dismissing the notion. Violence would not solve anything here. It would only put others at risk and tempt the Corpos to up their game and attempt more unscrupulous methods of acquiring this land.

Best to empower the workers. It was the safest and best option available.

He was silent as Yula introduced them. Pursing his lips slightly at the mention of his name. If he was to perform future work lie this, he'd need to get some kind of alias. Something to better obfuscate his identity. While here on a farming world he was probably going to go unnoticed. Someone might link his face to the New Jedi Order.

They really did not need any more scandals. While the opinion of the masses ultimately meant little to him. He would rather have them on his side than against him.

"Our goal is, as always. To ensure that these dealings are performed with honesty and integrity from each side." He chimed in. Further backing up Daiya's point. Allowing some measure of authority to slip into his voice. The calm, quiet, decisive tone that he used when instructing younglings. His 'Teacher Voice', as Ryv liked to put it. Would suit him well here.

Turning his attention to the workers, he offered them a patient smile. "So why don’t we get things out in the open while my associate looks over the terms of the contract?" He offered, taking a step closer to them. Simply oozing trust and reliability. The Force allowing him to connect with each of them only slightly. The barest whisper of empathy creeping into the Workers, reassuring them that he was indeed here with their best intentions in mind.

"What is it you fine gentlemen are looking to get here? What was it you were promised?" Open communication. Hear their terms, their idealised versions of what they hoped to get from the deal. After Daiya read the actual terms of the contract, they could begin to dissect it and hopefully guide the Workers into finding another path.

 

[Bryn Celli Ddu]

This was going to be the second time Bryn was on her own and on a shopping spree. While it wasn't going to be as grand as her first, it would prove to be educational. Arriving on Frostwythe, she had investigated what the weather was going to be like and dressed accordingly.

Walking off the shuttle she had arrived in, the cyborg wasn't entirely comfortable being so scantily clad. Normally she would be covered nearly head to toe in clothing. Not today though.

Wearing shorts for one of the first times in her life, her legs were well-toned but very pale. She also wore a short-sleeved shirt but her arms had been exposed to light more often and weren't as pale as her legs. Very likely, by the end of the day, those legs would be sunburned and she would be in a world of hurt tomorrow.

Almost gripping her bag at her side, the woman walked off and joined in the confusion of the festival.

 

[Pogu Tucs]

Pugo Tucs made his move towards Kogvog's position, which was at the center of the festival. He went to an outcrop of the nearby hill, and set up the rifle which he got from the guard. "I have you now." And as Kogvog was giving his speech, he fired twice.

Only if he got close enough, he could see if he hit.

 

[Yula Perl]

Yula watched Daiya carefully as the girl did her best to look as professional as possible after only being afforded a few seconds. “Here,” Reaching into her breast pocket, she pulled out a stylus and handed it to her new intern. “Use mine. It’s a knife.” It also had fairly good dexterity and calibrated easily to most standard datapads.

She gave a nod to Aaran. In case things went south, it would be good to indicate who would be doing what. In any event, it let them both focus their efforts where they’d be needed.

Daiya had been doing a bang-up job so far, as evidenced by the surprise and amusement in Yula’s eyes. The girl took her role seriously, lied with the confidence of a politician, and it had thrown the Keshiri off. His gaze shifted to Yula, eyeing the Zeltron’s polite, borderline cheesy smile. Begrudgingly, he handed the datapad to her. The other corpo had been typing furiously at his own datapad, garnering a few wary stares from the farmers.

“We just want to live a fair life, Sir.” One of the laborers stepped forward, a burly man. His face, lined with the hard work that came from life on a farm, held an honest quality. "The owners here don’t treat us none top well. Every season, they cut our wages more and more. My daughter caught a bad illness last winter, and we couldn’t afford the medicine.” He paused, quelling the hitch of emotion in his throat. The workers around him remained silent out of respect, and after a moment he’d steadied his voice. “She’s still weak as can be. After that, we figured somethin’ had to change. We reckoned the folks at AgCorp could offer us a better deal, help us take care of our families like they promised.”

Yula flicked through the terms with the point of her finger, stopping at a particular clause before handing the device off to Daiya. It was a quick read in fine print, but it clearly stated how they intended to use the land:

Upon the acquisition of Frostwythe holdings unto AgCorp, all land shall henceforth be subject to zoning for AgCorp durasteel processing facilities and refineries.​

Movement flickering along the horizon caught Yula’s eye—another speeder. This one coming in hot, faster than the one before, even with the extra layer of durasteel plating. The Force tensed in warning, sweeping her gut with tension. Yula rapidly took stock of the situation, including the position of Aaran and Daiya, should it come to blows.

Daiya Aaran Tafo