Dominion Crooks of a Feather... - Darkwire Dominion of Wann Tsir

[Darkwire Prophet]

TO: Xopsaloff, Qanatain​

FROM: Dione​

RE:RE:RE:I Can Assist​

​

Your proposal is interesting, but it doesn't help me now. ​

​

What am I supposed to do with your Authority Cash Vouchers? ​

​

I can't spend them on Wann Tsir, and the second any one of my ships enters CAD space, your CorpSec patrols will be on our tail.​

​

TO: Xopsaloff, Qanatain​

FROM: Dione​

RE:RE:RE:RE:RE:I Can Assist​

​

Last week, I purchased several lots of high-value merchandise with your vouchers. ​

​

I sure hope you're right about this representative currency business. ​

​

I'm already getting chit from my crew about hoarding treasure. ​

​

We're pirates, not dragons, we don't sit around all day counting our loot. ​

​

TO: Xopsaloff, Qanatain​

FROM: Dione​

RE:RE:RE:RE:RE:RE:RE:RE:I Can Assist​

​

This is taking too long, the other captains on the governing council are accusing me of acting against the principles of the Code. ​

​

I can only hold them off for so long, I'd better start seeing a return on this investment. ​

​

It still costs nearly twice as many vouchers as hard creds to get a sturdy drink around here. ​

​

I'm starting to hear rumors that the other captains are in talks with that Darkwire group, you need to stop them before they get too far. ​

​

TO: Xopsaloff, Qanatain​

FROM: Dione​

RE:RE:RE:RE:RE:RE:RE:RE:RE:RE:RE:RE:I Can Assist​

​

I'm out of options now. ​

​

My enemies captured the two ships I had dedicated to storing our currency assets, and somehow Darkwire sabotaged the financial relay we had set up. ​

​

ACV exchange rates have hit rock bottom, it takes a whole barrel of vouchers to get a good cup of grog. ​

​

Either you do something drastic or you're going to lose me, and all of Wann Tsir. ​

>> * --xING! COMM\ \\
<\WE GOT LUCKY, DARKWIRE
<\We have an advantage against the Corpos for the first time
<\The pirates of Wann Tsir are under economic siege by Qanatain Xopsaloff
<\We managed to take down one of Xopsaloff's relays, and capture treasure ships from his main pirate ally Caption Dione!
<\If we can seal the doom of ACVs and defeat Qanatain's flagship, we might earn the help of Wann Tsir in our fight
<\Go help our pirate cousins end the Corpo influence over them for good!

Spoiler: Objectives

Objective 1: Shop Till He Drops

Darkwire sabotaged a key financial relay between here and Denon. Until it gets fixed (read: until Darkwire loses control of it), they can basically print money, or Authority Cash Vouchers to be exact. That makes everything cheap as balls for you on Wann Tsir. Hurt the corpo financial system by buying anything and everything with your neverending pocketbook. Fast ships are standing by to sell it all on Denon, triple your money...and give Xopsaloff a heart attack.

Objective 2: Flagship Fight

Qanatain Xopsaloff’s personal fleet and his Flagship, the Death Monger, is en route to Wann Tsir to deliver the last of the promised currency to Dione and seize economic control over the planet. For the first time, Darkwire has the means to face such a vessel head on, and force the Corporate Influence back through force of arms.

Spoiler: Background Info

Welcome to Wann Tsir, a pirate republic on the edge of Authority space. Built upon world of oceans, islands, and marshes, the pirate freeport emerged following a series of abandonments by regional governments as they rose and fell. The city of Ke Wann Awanga itself is a product of its upbringing, makeshift and pre-fabricated buildings hastily constructed on, around, and on top of each other, which makes Ke Wann Awanga appear as a liveable scrapyard. Appearances are deceiving, however, as a thriving community and economy exists on this world governed by a ruling council of powerful pirate captains, who have chosen to largely coexist rather than fight amongst themselves. That is the general nature of Wann Tsir, it is a planet built on the very concept of cease fire, where pirates, smugglers, lawbreakers, and many other types can take a pause from their flights from justice, and any petty rivalries, to relax, refuel, repair, and just be themselves.

This is why any moves to disrupt this, such as Captain Dione's attempts to regain some lost influence by manipulating the economy, are taken so poorly by the ruling council. Darkwire will find welcome on Wann Tsir, but bubbling beneath the surface of that welcome is the ongoing tensions and anxiety of a population made wary by the recent actions of Captain Dione.

Spoiler: Brief Planet History

• After the 400-year Darkness, Wann Tsir is an early Republic world
  Republic collapses, first power vacuum
• Neldar Poska, pirate king, enslaves the planet with his Golan Arms Mercenaries
• Eddak Manod kills Neldar Poska and becomes king
• Manod builds a capital city around Fort Galderra and establishes a local Force-user sect
• The Commenor Systems Alliance forges business and defensive ties with Manod’s government
• Manod is killed during the Sith annexation of Commenor, and his government collapses
• Pirate crews move in, transforming the planet into a “Freeport” with a governing council
• One of the captains, Dione, loses massive influence recently due to infighting
• Dione seeks out help from the Corpos, and Qanatain obliges her through a very slow plan of currency transformation
• Dione helps in earnest, seeding the currency by paying her crews and using it to buy up assets/collateral to back the voucher currency, but is upset with the pace
• Another pirate faction hijacks the ships where Dione stores her treasure trove/currency assets, causing the drop in exchange rates
• Darkwire allies with the other captains to intervene and take advantage to force capitulation from Dione and eject the Corpo influence

Spoiler: Inspiring images for muse

Spoiler: Tag List

Airal Thamne
Aren D'Shade
Brie Jaxx
Cartri Keswoll
Cassus Akovin
Chelara "Chel" DuCote
Chloe Santhe
Deryn Kaaldos
Daiya
Gray Venasir
Hacks
Haden Del
Helena
Mliss Roo
M-XIII
Rook.the.slicer
5-WCH (Switchblade)
Shira Varanin
Spark
Venku Bralor
Xan Deesa
Yula Perl

 

[Jerec Asyr]

SS INFINITY'S FREE
WANN TSIR
A BEACH

The goal was to sit and wait for goods. Lots of goods. Controlling that relay meant that Darkwire could essentially print money, so ACV prices here on Wann Tsir were through the floor. Folks were out shopping, and the Infinity's Free and other vessels would make excellent haste to unload all of the above on Denon for much, much more money.

It was a good scam, but a complicated one, and therefore Jerec's crew was debating vociferously while clearing space in the cargo hold.

"Now, bear with me, because I'm not an economist-"

"Know what an economist is? Someone who can tell you tomorrow why they were wrong yesterday about-"

"-what would happen today, and that's weathermen."

"What's economics but weather minus the blondes?"

The crew paused to reflect. Jerec paused because he was management and needed a breather. He sat on the edge of the ramp, looked out over the piratical beach, and-

Did nothing. It felt great.

 

[Doc Painless]

Objective: 1 (Shop Till He Drops)
Location: Wann Tsir, Ke Wann Awanga, Streets
Tags: Open

It was rare that the Doc left the comfort of his cozy clinic on Denon, but after the Cryptnet meeting they'd recently had, he knew he couldn't sit this one out. Darkwire was on the move, trying to strike a real blow against the Corpos, and he'd promised to be part of it. After what he'd seen on Belazura, all that needless suffering in the name of profit, he had no intention of letting another planet fall under the DireX Board's control. If that meant getting his cybernetically-enhanced behind out of his cozy chair and all the way over to Wann Tsir, he'd do it.

He couldn't help but wish, however, that they'd chosen a prettier world on which to make their stand.

The so-called city of Ke Wann Awanga was like the worst parts of Denon's Suicide Slums plopped down on top of an unstable swamp. Its name was a joking pun on a Huttese phrase, which was fitting; the whole place looked like a joke that a Hutt would make. Pirate crews ran the streets, hard men and women the Doc wouldn't dare cross on a good day, laughing and drinking and getting into fights. The Doc was sure that, between local brawls and savage deep space boarding actions, there would be plenty of work for him here if he dared to set up a clinic.

But that wasn't why he had come to this humid, reeking wetland. No, he had come because of a window of opportunity, a moment in which he could hurt the Corpos and help himself without ever firing a shot. Fanning out a fat stack of Authority Cash Vouchers in his metallic hand, the Doc smiled. The things he was going to buy today - antiseptic, pharmaceuticals, skin grafts, cybernetic enhancements, surgical tools, and more - would keep his clinic supplied for months, maybe years... and the DireX Board was unwittingly going to pay for all of it.

Best not to think too hard about where the medical supplies came from, but that couldn't be helped.

Stepping over a girder that had collapsed into the bubbling, polluted swamp beneath the city, the Doc set foot on the long boardwalk that ran through the center of the market district, Sherrun's Bounty. All along the street were huge storefronts, effectively pirate wholesalers looking to offload less valuable parts of seized cargoes. A shipment of spice, aurodium, or heavy repeaters could be sold directly to crime lords and black marketeers, but excess medpacks and power couplings came here, to be sold to other crews with more need of them.

Stepping up to the first booth he saw, the Doc addressed the hulking grey Togorian behind the counter. "I'll take all the medpacks, microsutures, synthskin, quikseal splints, and bacta spray you've got." Before the alien could say anything in reply - or, more likely, start laughing - the street medic slapped down a huge stack of Vouchers. The pirate shopkeeper recovered remarkably quickly, avarice taking over from shock within seconds, and he scooped up the "money". It was worth far more than what he had in stock.

Of course, all but giving it away was half the point. The Doc had printed it off for free, and the Corpos were on the hook.

"I'm going to need something to carry my purchases," he told the Togorian. It took the alien a moment to notice that the Doc was talking; he was thoroughly distracted, eagerly flipping through the vouchers with his long claws as he counted how many he'd just been given. "Could you point me to a speeder dealer?" He followed the pirate's lazily outstretched claw, indicated he'd be back to pick up the goods, and headed off in the direction the alien had pointed. Once he'd bought up the things he wanted, he'd see about turning a profit, too.

Normally he'd be careful flashing this much money around. It was a good way to get himself mugged, especially when surrounded by tthousands of literal pirates. But the Doc wasn't overly concerned; if he was held up, he would gladly hand over his vouchers. Then he would go print more, to spend or get mugged for again or simply throw in the air for whoever wanted them to grab. Every voucher in pirate hands was one that they would try to cash in on CAD planets, straining the financial system to the breaking point.

Xopsaloff was going to tear his own hair out... or whatever the Muun equivalent of that was.

 

[Jerec Asyr]

SS INFINITY'S FREE
WANN TSIR
A BEACH

One of Jerec's crewers cracked a can of lum. "While we're on that vein...an IGBC central banking exec orders a pizza. The clerk asks him "should I cut it into six slices or eight?" The banker ponders this. "I'm feeling hungry. Better cut it into eight." What? It's about printing money. It's topical!"

"Ehhh..." said another one. "A Bith, a Givin, and an economist apply for the same job. Interviewer calls in the Bith and asks "what's two plus two?" The Bith says "four." "Exactly four?" "...yes, exactly four." Interviewer calls in the Givin next. "What's two plus two?" "On average, four, give or take ten percent." Last the interviewer calls in the economist. "What's two plus two?" The economist gets up, locks the door, tints the transparisteel, deploys a privacy filter, leans close, and says "what do you want it to equal?""

Jerec's comm buzzed: his associate Doc Painless had begun to Shop. Jerec eased himself back up off the ramp with a grimace and urged his crew back to clearing space in the hold.

"How many economists does it take to change a glowrod?" he said to take the edge off the 'get back to work' vibe. "Seven, plus or minus ten."

They laughed, mostly because he was the boss.

 

[Gray Venasir]

Objective 1
Location: Ke Wann Awanga
Tags: Cassus Akovin | open

This was it. The first major strike Darkwire did against the DireX Board. Everything they had done before had only hurt their enemies for a short while, but this was the start of something much bigger. "Alright Darkwire, the relay is ours. Take as many vouchers as you want, and then take some more, and buy whatever the kark you want. On Denon, the price we can get for it will send our dear Qanatain Moneybag into a coma." Gray deactivated the calling function of Darkwires tattoos, now that he had sent the message out to anyone of them on the planet.

The city of Ke Wann Awanga was not pretty, far from it. It was a pirate haven, though much more peaceful than most others Gray had seen. But the city itself looked like it had been rushed together by spare parts, metal plating and wood. But the scenery was not the reason the smuggler was here. Walking through the market district, with pockets full of recently printed vouchers, Gray tried to spot out what would hurt Xopsaloff the most. Ship parts, blasters and rifles, medical instruments, fancy clothes. But none of that was quite as grandoise as Gray wanted.

Meanwhile, the thought of Qanatain personally being on his way was going through Gray's head. Thanks to the Derelict ship the Shadowrunners had got their hands on some time ago, they finally had the firepower to stand against a ship like Xopsaloff's, but it was still a risk. Gray had thought of being part of the attack group that was with the Derelict, right outside Wann Tsir's orbit, but he had thought it best to coordinate things from the surface. After taking a leading role when they were in the Tatt-Chat room, Gray had a responsibility to make sure things went well, and that would be hard if the ship Gray was in was destroyed in the attack. No, he had to make sure the other Shadowrunners got away safely, should the worst happen. "Hey, Cassus, how's it looking up there?" asked Gray into his comm. "Any signs of the rich man yet?" Cassus was part of the attack group, who would stand against the potential attack.

But right in the middle of the comm conversation with the young man, Gray spotted something in one of the shops. "Keep me posted on what's happening, alright," Gray told the boy. "I have found a small treasure here." He put the comm away, and went into a shop called Neeru's Antiquities. And old Ishi Tib was standing behind the counter. "Welcome, stranger. See anything you like?" she asked. Gray stood by the front window, looking at a statue. "Yes, in fact I do. This replica of a tower, it wouldn't happen to be...?" The old woman walked over, and took a glance at it. "Ah, yes, that is an old exact replica of Qanaray Xopsadrill's tower. Few were made, and I don't know how many are left." The Ishi Tib got the name wrong, but there was no doubt. A rare model of Xopsaloff's tower, and Gray had the chance to get it for free. If the Muun found out about it... "I'll take it," said the smuggler, and pulled out a few vouchers. The woman looked at him in astonishment, but took the vouchers over to the frontdesk. "Pleasure doing business with you," said Gray, as he carried the statue out of the shop

 

[Gemma Hentz]

Objective: 2
Location: Aboard the Death Monger

Gemma paced the length of the bridge.

There was a small storm of anxiety brewing in her mind, but she concealed it all behind an affected expression of poised calm. The high heels of her shoes clicked against the deck as she walked, drawing a side-eyed glance from the captain. Gemma offered a smile; a seemingly amiable gesture that was actually meant to unnerve. She was watching them, the crew and captain.

Often, this was her role as Qanatain Xopsaloff's eyes and ears.

She'd once believed that this was a position of pride and privilege, but she had since learned the truth: it was thankless. Gemma was the pretty face that could temper his unlikable ways. But now she knew, she was... expendable. That was the word he'd used. It'd been part of a conversation not meant for her ears, and it had haunted her ever since. Was it all part of a cruel joke? Gemma didn't think so.

Now, she stood with her eyes and ears open on his behalf, while he sat in his ready room preparing. The Muun was on edge today, and Gemma had to admit that it was a little fun to see him squirm. However, this didn't make him any less dangerous. And there was a small part of her that was frightened for whatever was to come. Despite her calmly clasped hands and professional demeanor, she was quietly forming plans of her own...

 

[Sam Connory]

Doc Painless will tune you up fine
Your flesh, tech, and steel he'll combine
An unlicensed hack
In a back-alley shack
Surprisingly skilled and benign

A young shadowrunner named Daiya
Resplendent in gutter regalia
Brings no end of grief
-to the Corps' disbelief-
With blackhatter paraphernalia

-attributed to Connory, Bard of the Hyperlanes, circa 864 ABY

 

[Sam Connory]

The Casamyr Nova's ablaze
Her light can ignite the spaceways
A linguist of skill
Stirs the heart and the will
And also she's got legs for days


Don't kark with the Akovin Kid
I've known one too many who did
That's it, that's the verse
And you could do worse
Than to let the odd oddity skid


And steer clear of Gray Venasir
The gun hand that makes CorpSec fear
Though he'd use invective,
I hear he's effectively
Darkwire's pet buccaneer


For someone so quick to hoodwink
Perpetually fresh from the clink
World-weary, streetwise,
Skilled at cussing and lies-
Xan Deesa 's unusually pink


He's Tatooine's favorite son
And fourth or fifth most famous one
He broke his own chains
Maybe ate his lord's brains
Flies too fast for the Corps to outrun


A joint free from judgment and blame
Is Blanchard's robust claim to fame
My gratitude swells
Her hosting excels-
But Jennifer's sure a weird name


That Hacks has a durasteel soul
The Corpos tossed her in a hole
In cravening fear
They shut off her gear
But her heart they could never control


I've known a few slicers called Frankie
With augments both swanky and janky
They shot me down fast
But it's all for the best
I prefer to survive hanky-panky


-attributed to Connory, Bard of the Hyperlanes, circa 864 ABY


With apologies to Jennifer Blanchard , Nova Casamyr , Cassus Akovin , Anakin Stormrunner , et al.

 

[Daiya]

OBJECTIVE 1
Location: The hold of a pirate ship, Ke Wann Awanga, Wann Tsir
Tags: Open

[Post Soundtrack: "I Can Do What I Want To" by Command Sisters]​

"Are you really a pirate?"

The girl's question made the red-furred Squib cast a toothy grin at her, or at least that's what it looked like to her. It was hard to tell, since every time the vulpine alien opened his mouth he showed off the rows of canine teeth that he had assured Daiya were far better than his bark. The young shadowrunner wasn't so easily duped, not when she spied the dozen or so weapons hidden over his person, but she had to admit that the youthful pirate was incredibly convincing when he said it. When he said anything, really. "Of course!"

Daiya was not going to be deterred from her curiosity by mere charisma, as bountiful as it was for someone like Phillippe-Naros. "It's just that, well, you don't seem like one..."

Phillippe-Naros looked bashful, as bashful as a grinning fox alien could be, and peered his big eyes into Daiya's own. "Is it because I don't swashbuckle enough?"

"What?"

"My crew always tells me I need to swashbuckle some more, and I'm pretty sure they're just playing pranks on me." The Squib stood to his full height, an impressively small one meter, though he made it seem like a towering stature by jumping up onto the chair and resting a foot on its back. He preened, that was the right word for it, and then spun out a blaster from some new hiding spot. "I'm plenty pirate-y. Nobody does that old swashbuckling kark anymore, right?"

Was he asking her? Daiya wasn't sure if she had a satisfying answer, but she offered what she knew, "Well, I've seen some holos, and..."

"Exactly!" Phillippe-Naros gestured to her with his palm, then spun his blaster back into its hiding place. He jumped down from the chair easily, sidling up close to her as if to share a sincere secret. "That's just it, it's all for the holos. The swashbuckling, the shanties, the prosthetic legs...it's nothing like real life."

"Doesn't your captain have prosthetic legs?" Daiya pointed out.

"I meant unironically, of course!"

Daiya couldn't help but giggle at the swaggering Squib's bravado. It was a wonder he turned to piracy, he would have made a fantastic salesbeing.

"We just got the signal from Captain Dru'mar, everything's ready."

The pair was interrupted by a stocky, older pirate appearing at the threshold. He gave them a long, one-eyed stare —made all the more easy by having only one eye to stare with— before turning around with a grunt and disappearing from sight. Daiya looked at Phillippe-Naros at the same time as the vulpine alien looked at her, their expressions mirrors of each other.

"You mean?"

"It's time."​

"To go shopping?!"​

"Yeah!"​

Daiya jumped up from the chair, nearly knocking it back in the process. Her Squib companion stepped back a few paces, startled perhaps, as the teen's dormant enthusiasm suddenly emerged with a force. She clapped her hands together, her face lighting up with a grin as her words nearly shouted themselves from her mouth. "Great, let's go!"

"Whoa now, hold on." The Squib had his paw up to her, and though she doubted the little fox could actually stop her if she wanted to go around him, the girl paused at the request.

She looked at him with a curious expression. "What?"

Folding his arms made Phillippe-Naros look a lot less foreboding than she guessed he was going for, and the girl had to hold back another giggle at his pose. He didn't seem to notice, his youthful exuberance was now replaced by a more pointed look, and his tone was serious when he asked, "You're not going to go looking like that, are you?"

Once again, Daiya mirrored the Squib's look, folding her own arms while frowning down at the small pirate. A dozen explanations rushed through her mind over what he could have meant, and very few of them were positive. She looked down at herself, and then back to him."What's wrong with how I look?"

"Look, Wann Tsir's a pretty rough world." Phillippe-Naros offered, but his foot started tapping with impatience.

Daiya was in no mood to oblige at the moment. "And?"

The Squib gestured to her head with a paw, "Well, your hair for starters." His paw circled in the air. "Nobody's going to take you seriously with those curls and that pink streak."

"Hey, it's for color! Blonde rhymes with bland for a reason," the girl shot back. Her sour expression softened a moment later, though, when she mentioned, "And besides, it's super punky on Denon, you should see how it lights up in the clubs..."

"Pink is pretty tame here, Daiya, you're just going to get ignored." The Squib's red fur seemed to shimmer and wave at her as an example. He held up a finger at her. "And punk isn't pirate-y."

She groaned, but tossed her hands in the air. "Fine, I can change the hair for today."

"And lose the sleeves?" he piled on, pushing his luck.

"But..."

Phillippe-Naros' foot was thumping loudly now, and it was possible the Squib was taking his day's mentorship assignment a little too seriously. "Do you want to look like you know what you're doing, or do you want to look like an offworlder they can jack up the prices for?"

"Good point." The teen sighed in defeat, putting herself in the furry, hopefully capable, paws of Phillippe-Naros today. He was the experienced pirate, and he was pretty convincing.

The Squib was back to grinning again, throwing his arms wide to embrace her surrender. He was magnanimous in victory after all, and already the girl felt assured of following his advice. "See? Stick with me, I won't lead you wrong."

"They're all staring at me..." the girl mentioned as they made their way —finally!— through the marketplace, trying to follow the advice that Phillippe-Naros had given her. It was much the same as she had grown up knowing on Denon, except that it was all backwards. Pirates didn't keep their heads down, or walk with determination like she was used to. Avoidance here was an insult, or her pirate mentor had said. With all the eyes on her, it was hard for Daiya not to want to duck into a side alley somewhere.

The Squib next to her scoffed, and stared them down while telling her, "You're new, you're someone to be noticed. Stare back and they'll stop."

Noticed was putting it lightly. Phillippe-Naros had worked a quick transformation of the girl after making her wash out the color highlights she kept in her hair. Her pirate minder had her dress in an outfit that he convinced her was a strong look for a newcomer, making sure that she carried her Raven Knife out more prominently than her blasters. Something about swashbuckling. It was the one thing of pink he would let her keep obvious, and Daiya was glad for it.

"For how long?" The girl whined, but she tried it anyway. She didn't know if her dramatic looks of intimidation or the quick jerks she made in their direction with her head helped deter her looky-loos, or if they were just turning away to laugh at her in private. Whatever the case, Daiya decided, it didn't matter. She wasn't here to get lost in pirate culture, she was here to shop!

"I'm going to go look at those sunglasses!" Daiya declared, turning abruptly before Phillippe-Naros could stop her. She stopped at a rack of eyewear, giggling at the realization that some of them only had one lens. The girl focused on the mirrored shades, wondering if those would let her "stare" at someone without maintaining eye contact. As for which ones would look best on her... "Maybe I'll buy the whole rack."

 

[Amea Virou]

There once was a goods port that housed little pirates,
Where a transactional error made the goods cheap for those who required it.
And so then it was said,
That the authority was mad.
‘Cause the crooks that exploited it was sent from the darkest of wires.

It was a logical means to destroy the stability,
And expose a corporation’s financial fragility.
At two quarters the price,
Amea got herself something nice.
But only because it came with limited liability.

Evelyn too, would get something fancy.
A means to help them live their lives as vigilantes.
The cheap gun came with darts,
At worst it could be scrapped for parts.
But the two women found it nonetheless quite handy.

The rest went into devious market exploitation,
A throwback for the internal labor organization.
In truth it was all out of personal greed.
That childish impulse she wanted to feed.
And not because it was to fight against overcapitalization.

 

[Ruby Jaxx]

Objective 1: Shop

“I'll take this one,” Ruby said, patting the seat of a speeder bike. “Actually, I'll be taking all of them.”

The merchant's brows lofted, and Ruby returned the gesture with a grin. She handed over a fat stack of vouchers without even bothering to count them (she'd let the sales staff do that). If they needed more, no big deal – she had LOTS.

Ruby had to admit, it felt pretty karking good to spend money. Especially, when it wasn't yours. Not that this stash wasn't hard-earned, Darkwire had done the work necessary to make this moment happen. Just like similar moments happening all over Ke Wann Awanga city. Once the sale was complete, she shook hands with the salesman and stuffed a handful of crinkled vouchers into the front of his jacket pocket.

“Thanks,” she said, getting on the one speeder she'd decided to keep (she thought of it as a bonus) and starting it up. “My associates will be here shortly to pick up the rest.”

Speeding off on the bike, she left the shop behind... and a trail of vouchers that flew out of her back pack as she went.

 

[Cassus Akovin]

What do we do with a greedy corpo?
What do we do with a greedy corpo?
What do we do with a greedy corpo
When Darkwire’s rising

Spend all of his creds in a Wann Tsir market
Spend all of his creds in a Wann Tsir market
Spend all of his creds in a Wann Tsir market
When Darkwire’s rising

Steal his treasure fleet and hack his relays
Steal his treasure fleet and hack his relays
Steal his treasure fleet and hack his relays
When Darkwire’s rising

Hold ‘em to account for Belazura
Hold ‘em to account for Belazura
Hold ‘em to account for Belazura
When Darkwire’s rising

Way, hey, we’ll eat the rich now
Way, hey, we’ll eat the rich now
Way, hey, we’ll eat the rich now
When Darkwire’s rising

- Unknown*​

​

OBJECTIVE: 2
LOCATION: Samhain's Derelict Bridge.
TAGS: Open

"Hey, Cassus, how's it looking up there?" asked Gray into his comm. "Any signs of the rich man yet?" Cassus was part of the attack group, who would stand against the potential attack.

But right in the middle of the comm conversation with the young man, Gray spotted something in one of the shops. "Keep me posted on what's happening, alright," Gray told the boy. "I have found a small treasure here."

"The crew is in high spirits, more than half of them may have made one too many visits to the Starbird Saloon, and got kicked out into Port Pub. Won't be long before Frankie's Parlor goes into full swing." Cassus replied back, the sounds of song audible in the background. "These scanners are as unreliable as they come, but with the size of the whale we're hunting-" Cassus' sentence was cut off as something shiny caught Gray's eye, and the boy smirked.

"You got it, Captain." The boy closed the communicator down and went back to scanning the sensor array. Darkwire was a far cry from a proper ship crew, and Cassus was far from a good person to run it, but with their modifications and a fondness for their ship, he had some measure of confidence they would win the day. Or at least, get away, assuming everyone was sober enough to know when to run.

What do we do with a greedy Corpo, what do we do with- Cassus' thoughts were infected with the earworm and it took a moment to shake himself from mumbling aloud.

"Anybody else around here sober, or is it just me?" The boy questioned to anybody on the bridge, partly to banish the catchy shanty.

*OOC credit goes to our fabulous Doc Painless

 

[Cato Fett]

Objective: 2
Tags: Cassus Akovin | Open

~Appropriate BG Theme~​

“Anybody else around here sober, or is just me?”

Cato raised his gauntlet in salute from the forward sensor console pit, then returned to tending over his kit. Outside, past a portal of tempered transparisteel, faint motes of starlight winked and tumbled in the void. The swell of Wann Tsir was slowly filling the forward bridge viewscreens as the Samhain coasted forward on stately impulse power, gliding on a wide circuit that swung round the circumference of the planetary gravity well. The Samhain occasionally groaned in the bulkheads, listing port to starboard or vice versa, before rotational gyro-controls corrected. Several bridge stanchions were littered with superstitious votives and graffiti drawn to placate the gods of fickle luck. Crewmen were making a game of sliding on spills of beer and spirits left on the bridge decking, pulverizing threadbare nerves with as much copious drink as they dared.

“One old carrier with its back half broken…” A sensor technician was muttering. He sloshed his words in a thick jumble, pawing his screen to refresh the sensor-returns. “Versus a state-of-the-art battlecruiser. With a full crew compliment. Damn straight sobriety’s out the airlock… Hey. You. Know any good songs, buckethead?”

Cato shook his helm and slid an oily cloth down the length of his longsword. It was an Asahi katana, aged, elegantly curved, well honed with a sharpness that could carve the electrons off an atom. Together it paired with a matched short-sword tucked into Cato’s waistbelt, behind rows of well-stocked pouches. A long tanto-knife was kept stashed at the small of his back. He folded the cloth away and took up a whetstone block, grinding it with care down the length of its wintry edge.

“If the Derelict can survive long enough to bring us into boarding range, that will be all that matters,” Cato said.

“What,” The technician balked. “Y’think we can win.”

“Yes. I do.”

“Why?”

He dried his sword with a square of silk and, with a rapid flourish, swiftly replaced his blade into its waiting sheathe. “I don’t know how to parse it. Just that Qanatain Xopsalof isn’t leaving the system alive.”

“You’re a merc, whadd’you care?” The technician drawled.

“Seen enough of terrible people inflicting numb, mindless pain on ordinary folk…” Cato muttered. He laid his carbine across his lap, running a multitool against its soldered modifications. “Mr. Akovin,” He called across the bridge deck. “…Anything yet?”

 

[Anakin Stormrunner]

Waves crashed and echoed off the metal walls of the towering city. Sea birds cried overhead and the smell of salt was strong in the air. At first glance, everything appeared as normal on Wan Tsir.

This was not the case.

Miles above the churning waves, the Wan Tsir market was bustling with never before seen activity. As a pirate city, the market was always lively. Full of shouting merchants, drunken pirates, and the distant sound of ships being docked and unloaded. What was unusual however, was the crowds of strangers. People dressed in odd clothes and more cybernetics than even a pirate knew what to do with. They milled around the market, a mess of twisted narrow paths, small shops, and pop up stands of varying quality.

It was times like this that Anakin was grateful for his wings. The crowds milled bellow, twisting along the rusted streets and alleyways as Anakin soared through the air. A few moments later, his black scaled talons were pressed to the metal ground.

Before him stood a shop. It’s blue walls were faded from the elements, and the sign above its door read “Thimbles and Threads” in sputtering lights. Taking a moment to straighten out his shirt, Anakin stepped inside.

The door chimed as he tripped the motion detector, and an old twi’lek hobbled from the back room. “How can I help you?” His voice was raspy, and the tattoos along his neck and the tips of his montrals marked him as a long time pirate, likely retired once arthritis kicked in. “Just looking around.”

Blue eyes cast their gaze around the small shop. Places like this, planets and cities run by pirates, always had a mixed possibility in their goods. You ran the risk of finding nothing but worn out junk, but you could also run into hidden treasures that would be near impossible to get anywhere else. His eyes caught the display box under the counter. Bingo.

Behind what looked like transparisteel if the welded edges were anything to go by, lay a single bolt of deep green concordian silk. “Anything specific you need to sew that?” He gestured towards the silk.

“Just a standard sixty ‘n eight needled.”

“Great. I’ll take the whole bolt.” The pirate spluttered and stared as Anakin deposited a handful of metal chips onto the counter. Each one loaded with a couple thousand vouchers. All the man had to do was take them to the bank and get the money transferred. He was still staring as Anakin stepped out the door, a million credit bolt of fabric strapped to his back in a stiff leather case.

With his goal complete, he took to wandering the streets. Shops and outdoor booths filled the narrow walkway and the number of people walking and bumping into each other forced Ebra out from under his shirt.

The symbiotic lump of pale flesh wrapped itself around his shoulders, latching onto cloth and skin alike. It sent a low hum of curiosity and anxiety through his mind as it’s attention darted from person to person.

 

[Shot Sutaz]

Sutaz had a contact to meet here, she knew that much. However....There was another reason she had come. This situation posed an opportunity that Sutaz could not pass up. If she played her cards right, she could walk away from this with enough credits to never depend on a corporation for a paycheck again. She already had herself a shopping list of what she was getting off of the market. Some of it, she would keep. Other things, she would resell for a massive profit. With that profit made, she could stow it away and live easily off of interest. This would allow her to no longer need a corpo paycheck. Without that dependency, she could join up with Darkwire. If this plan were to succeed, she would finally make it to the big leagues in one fell swoop. She felt all giddy inside.

She took out the holopad she had in the satchel at her side to look at her shopping list, grinning widely. Everything there consisted of object she could buy low and sell high. She'd brought her life savings for this, and she would make sure it would pay off. She had even hired a crew to help her transport goods. She'd get her own lab, her own ship, her own everything. Her own stable life. A stable life to share with friends. As she looked at the shopping list, Kadora came to mind, and her smiling lips formed into a slight frown. If this succeeded....she wouldn't see Kadora again for a long time, and if they did meet again....they would likely be on opposing sides. She felt her stomach sink a bit at that thought, but she couldn't live supporting the corporations anymore, not after what they did to her.

Before she moved on to shopping, she needed to meet her contact. The Nautolan peers about through the people crowding the market stalls. The neon signs caused an obnoxious glare all around. Typical seedy market. After a little while of wading through people, she finally spots someone matching the description of who she's supposed to meet. Slipping easily by a few more people, she arrives between Daiya and her guardian. She looks confused for a moment, having expected someone... older. Placing the datapad back in her satchel, she speaks up.

"I was supposed to meet you here?" The Nautolan questions cautiously. She's dressed in her usual attire. That short white crop top with jeans, black leather boots, and a black skintight environmental cooling suit under all her clothing.

Daiya

 

[Talohn Atar]

Talohn wasn't typically one for extreme shopping. He was actually very conservative with his money unless it was something he needed...or really wanted, or something Monari wanted or needed. He could never refuse those adorable eyes. Either way, this shopping spree? It was the exception. A friend tipped him off about what was happening, and it was too good an opportunity to pass up. He never was a fan of big corporations ruling worlds like on Denon, and a chance to kick them in the teeth and get dirt cheap stuff was quite the delicious desert.

Of course, before he began the shopping spree, he had to wait for the person who would be joining him. Thus, Talohn was leaning on one of the landing legs of his ship, which was currently parked within the hangar closest to the market. He's tapping around on a datapad, browsing the market sites on Wann Tsir to see what's available to order. Couldn't hurt to pick up a few things early, right? Either way, he was excited to see what there was. Plus, spending time with the ever entertaining Zlova Rue was always a pleasure.

Zlova Rue

 

[Doc Painless]

Objective: 1 (Shop Till He Drops)
Location: Wann Tsir, Ke Wann Awanga, Streets
Tags: Gray Venasir

The Doc's new speeder hummed contentedly as he and the Togorian shopkeeper loaded his purchases into it; the street medic imagined that he could hear the repulsorlifts groaning in protest as he filled both the cargo compartment and the passenger's seat with his haul of medical supplies. There had been a surprising amount of gear that would benefit his clinic just at the first booth he'd tried, and he had plenty he still planned to hit. At this rate, he'd be able to give free care to half of Seven Corners. He'd have to get the word out soon.

It wasn't like most of his customers paid the going rate for his services, but he could do even better than discounts now.

"Thanks," he told the shopkeep, tossing him another full stack of vouchers for his trouble. The thought of the Corpo financial analysts soiling themselves as they tried to figure out how the feth they'd ended up on the line to pay for all of this brought a savage grin to his face. They got to manipulate markets all the time; it was time to watch them react when someone else did the same, at their expense. Chuckling to himself, the Doc got into his speeder and headed back to his shuttle. It was time to stow this stuff and then go for round two.

It took the Doc a good fifteen minutes to get everything into the cargo hold - he didn't have help this time, after all - but he was soon on his way back into town, his speeder skimming over the swampy, half-sunken vehicle path between the rusted catwalks. He hummed a jaunty tune to himself as he scanned the market stalls, looking for another good candidate for medical gear. Then he stopped and did a double-take: he knew that man heading down the street. He'd met him, sort-of, over the Cryptnet just before Darkwire had launched this mission.

The Doc pulled his speeder up beside Gray Venasir , took one look at the sculpture he was carrying, and doubled over in laughter. His sides heaved as he tried to regain his breath, and tears of mirth trickled from the still-organic ducts at the edges of his cybernetic eyes. "Feth me, you didn't," he rasped out, taking in the replica of Xopsaloff's tower the man was carrying. "Oh, that's too perfect. I almost want one of my own!" He leaned over and extended a hand, hoping to shake in the real world this time. "Good to see you again, Gray."

The Doc tapped the side of his speeder. "That thing's an armful to be lugging around. Need a ride?"

 

[Zlova Rue]

"Do I look like a Forensic Accountant?" Another party gave a brief response, to which the Lethan Twi'lek was not satisfied. "Give me a holocron and I will extract its darkest secrets. Give me an enemy and I will extract their darkest secrets. Give me a planet that has unusual economic transactions--" And again, a response that sought to placate or dissuade Zlova from her Path of Ire inserted itself. Yet again, she was not taken by it. "Perhaps if you knew more about me you would see just how far beneath me this truly is."

Jaw set, the woman spun about and stormed from the chamber. There were times when she questioned being satisfied with what was given to her among the Southern Systems. But it was better than when she'd exiled herself on Nar Shaddaa as little more than a dancer. Perhaps she had found more of her desire for self-growth than she had expected to, which chaffed being treated as less than she truly was. Not that many of them knew the truth.

Later, Zlova received a message from Talohn Atar , the Cathar Mandalorian whom she had unexpectedly fallen into the company of as more than a passing fling. Her golden eyes read each word carefully before she cursed in High Sith to herself. Did the Force think this amusing? Perhaps an evil specter of some long forgotten Sith Lord thought this amusing or recompense for her purloining something from their busted tomb. However it came about, it would seem she had more purpose in going to this 'Wann Tsir' than merely to sate some bureaucrat's fears. Zlova soon replied she would be happy to meet the Cathar there.

After Talohn landed, the red woman slowly strode away from where she'd been leaning and made for the Cathar's ship. Today she wore a black dress made of broad straps that exposed a good deal of her body, while still providing ample coverage to not be overtly scandalous. Just breath-takingly scandalous. The prudes of the world should be thankful that was the only 'crime' she committed.

"Just how many bounties do you collect, Mister Atar," the Twi'lek purred playfully, "to go on a spending spree after buying that ship?"

 

[Talohn Atar]

In terms of outfit, the cathar was dressed like he usually was outside of combat. Black leather boots, brown armorweave pants, a simple white button up shirt, and an armor weave longcoat that goes down to his ankles. On his right thigh, he's got his trusty Zas' stjolkk heavy pistol in a leather holster. He's likely also got various gadgets hidden on him, knowing how prepared he prefers to be. The cathar looks up from his datapad as he hears footsteps approaching, and he gives the lethan a pleasant smile. It must be strange to the sith, having someone that's genuinely enthused to see her. The cathar was a cunning warrior, but even more, he had so far proven to not be a traitor. Talohn had never betrayed anyone who didn't have it coming. Did Zlova have it coming? So far, the cathar hasn't seemed to have deemed so. As she approaches him, he looks her up and down. It's always easy to tell when he's happy with what he sees. His eyes light up like a lightsaber. "Were you anyone else, I'd advise against such attire on a pirate controlled planet....But I already know any hand trying to touch you won't be attached to a body much longer." She was a tough lass after all.

Then she goes on to ask him about how he makes his coin, and he can't help but chuckle. "This ship? I made a deal to get it, which dug into my savings a bit, but not too bad. Point is that I'm good for the money. Sold a few tech designs to get some extra credits. Usually I'd keep saving, but this is too good a chance to pass up. You're not the shopping dare sort, I know. But I couldn't leave my favorite partner in crime out of the biggest market incident of the century, now could I?" He winks. "By the way." He reaches into the satchel at his side, and pulls out a small box. "Found these for you on a really annoying trip to Alderaan….Ah, who am I kidding." He shrugs. "Every trip to Alderaan is annoying. Those nobles, they have such...." He cracks his knuckles. "Punchable faces, every damn one of them."

When Zlova opens the box, she would be met with the sight of fruit, Alderaanian blueberries to be exact. She had mentioned she wanted to try fruit during that breakfast with Talohn's crew. The cathar was sweet to remember. With that out of the way, he offers her his arm if she wishes to take it. "Now, let's hit the market, shall we?"

Zlova Rue

 

[Zlova Rue]

Zlova's lips pulled back into a grin at Talohn's remark. "They'd be lucky if I stopped at a hand." Seeing how the Lethan kept two sabers on her there was no end to the amount of harm she could inflicted. One saber could easily lop off two, maybe three limbs. Two sabers with the right movement and form? What remained would fit neatly into a small box.

There were two kinds of pirates: those that believed a beautiful, red, scantly-clad Twi'lek was their play thing, and those that stayed alive (having correctly deduced only someone supremely confident and capable would dare parade their selves around so openly).

"Oh?" She cast another look at the ship from the outside. Looked more impressive in person. When you were busy trying not to ram another starship you didn't focus on its appearance too leisurely, and the scale was all wrong. On a landing pad, however, you could appreciate its design up close. "Maybe I should take up odd jobs more often," she said before laughing.

Not that she didn't have her own ship, but Zlova didn't consider herself rich. Since she stopped dancing for money after Nar Shaddaa -- superiors weren't in favor of a Knight being an exotic dancer -- the credits hadn't been pouring in quite as much as before.

Her eyes dropped to the box Talohn soon produced. Carefully accepting it, her attention returned to the Cathar male as he explained acquiring the contents. "They're too soft." Zlova smirked at Talohn's displeasure of Alderaan. "Everything at their fingertips. Peace and luxury." A sharp scoff off to one side followed. "They'll whine about having been blown up or the Empire setting them ablaze, but what happens? Nothing changes. They're a dead culture."

Annoyance gave way to a smile when she saw the berries inside of the box. Closed and slipped away, the Twi'lek reached out to take Talohn's offered arm. "Don't forget whatever it is the little one asked you to pick up. I'm sure she has some new design in mind already." Zlova hadn't forgotten about Monari. Obviously this wasn't the place to have a small one darting about, but that didn't mean she hadn't asked the Cathar to pick something up. Especially with all the 'deals' drawing up quite the commotion from the market.

Tag: Talohn Atar