RC 212
HUNGRY HUNGRY HIPPO!
RIMMA TRADE ROUTE, NEAR ERIDAU
A lot of what went on with the syndicate these days was petty thievery. Despite a long chain of events leading to their demise, Fargo her Crime boss was back on the rise, and re consolidating old networks. Old friends were now in the loop as it were, but they were tough on cash, and had little credibility left. The fist step he'd always told her, is to get money to pay folks.
Like her, his newly minted Lieutenant.
And that's just what they were doing now.
From the deck of her refitted Jast 1, The Laughing Skull she watched as her horde of TIE's and other freighters descended upon a trade convoy.
"We're in range Cap'n!" Velzin, her Rodian co-pilot said.
She nodded, flipping back a lock of hair and taking another puff on her deathstick and then flicked it into a nearby crusty canteen.
"Radio the rest then, let's kick this thing off!"
One hand uncorked a bottle, which she brought to her lips. Second later they opened fire on the convoy, two frigate taking massive blows from torpedoes to their flanks. They listed, and hobbled sideways trying to make a break for it.
"Not so fast there!" She roared, swiveling the gunners yojke and depressing the trigger.
Her Ion cannon belched, shooting white hot beams of Ion particles into their rear engine block. Arcs of blue danced and flashed across the vessel.
"What's that sound?" She asked.
The Rodian turned to her and shrugged.
"Distress beacon I think."
"Fething kark, we can't have them calling in the Feds. Get a lock on the location exactly."
"Working."
There was one starliner left. That wasn't their exact target, and she hadn't the time to really deal with the people on board. Slaves might have fetched a decent price, but the Syndicate was more interested in chop shops and drug running for now. The whole slavery thing left a bad taste in her mouth anyhow.
"Got it."
"Great."
"Uh Cap'n, what are we doing about the Starliner?"
She took a puff of spice up the nostril and leaned back yipping.
"Feth em, blow them to bits. It;s the cargo frigate we want. One of those babies has a ton of Platinum on board and the boss wants it."
"Ok, moving in."
"Yeah yeah hold your horses men. If one of you space rednecks so much as fething breathes on the chit load of platinum in the wrong way, I'll make ya into Corellian Swiss and return your bodies to the dust of the verse. Understand?"
"Understand boss."
"Good now go get my Platinum."
A lot of what went on with the syndicate these days was petty thievery. Despite a long chain of events leading to their demise, Fargo her Crime boss was back on the rise, and re consolidating old networks. Old friends were now in the loop as it were, but they were tough on cash, and had little credibility left. The fist step he'd always told her, is to get money to pay folks.
Like her, his newly minted Lieutenant.
And that's just what they were doing now.
From the deck of her refitted Jast 1, The Laughing Skull she watched as her horde of TIE's and other freighters descended upon a trade convoy.
"We're in range Cap'n!" Velzin, her Rodian co-pilot said.
She nodded, flipping back a lock of hair and taking another puff on her deathstick and then flicked it into a nearby crusty canteen.
"Radio the rest then, let's kick this thing off!"
One hand uncorked a bottle, which she brought to her lips. Second later they opened fire on the convoy, two frigate taking massive blows from torpedoes to their flanks. They listed, and hobbled sideways trying to make a break for it.
"Not so fast there!" She roared, swiveling the gunners yojke and depressing the trigger.
Her Ion cannon belched, shooting white hot beams of Ion particles into their rear engine block. Arcs of blue danced and flashed across the vessel.
"What's that sound?" She asked.
The Rodian turned to her and shrugged.
"Distress beacon I think."
"Fething kark, we can't have them calling in the Feds. Get a lock on the location exactly."
"Working."
There was one starliner left. That wasn't their exact target, and she hadn't the time to really deal with the people on board. Slaves might have fetched a decent price, but the Syndicate was more interested in chop shops and drug running for now. The whole slavery thing left a bad taste in her mouth anyhow.
"Got it."
"Great."
"Uh Cap'n, what are we doing about the Starliner?"
She took a puff of spice up the nostril and leaned back yipping.
"Feth em, blow them to bits. It;s the cargo frigate we want. One of those babies has a ton of Platinum on board and the boss wants it."
"Ok, moving in."
"Yeah yeah hold your horses men. If one of you space rednecks so much as fething breathes on the chit load of platinum in the wrong way, I'll make ya into Corellian Swiss and return your bodies to the dust of the verse. Understand?"
"Understand boss."
"Good now go get my Platinum."