Feeding the Bear

[Mauda]

Transport Dock Alpha (DTDA)
A Day Of Major Stock Movement

The quiet breeze that blew under my feet was dominated by the shouts and footfalls of the men of Transport Dock Alpha. Men and Women who were formerly useless addicts, fumbling and staggering while Spice coursed their veins were now functional, productive staff. They ran back and forth, relaying information and prepping the crates of weaponry. Ironscale Trandoshans patrolled the catwalks, manning turrets and making sure no living organism was within a mile of DTDA. Today was important and the atmosphere reflected it with great intensity.

I didn't want to be here, I normally wasn't. But this stuff had to get to where it needed to be, and I was intent on supervising such an operation. We moved stock countless times a day. But this was OUR stock. DEAD, branded and labeled. Owned by us, moved by us, for use by us. We were in a red hand situation and there was no proxy protection. But that was a risk I had to take. We were setting up a Spice Refinery on Kessel that was critical for generating funds and we had to equip the security personnel there. The recent diversion of resources to Causstik Rahnhttp://starwarsrp.net/user/12911-causstik-rahn/ and his pirate collective was a necessary chunk of our resources gone. We had to counter it somehow, and drugs was the solution.

I stood at the end of the junction, at the balcony overlooking the Landing Pads and Warehouses, acompanied by Artorian Solairehttp://starwarsrp.net/user/16535-artorian-solaire/ , my right hand man. The warehouses contained Armoured Transports. Those transports were due to leave, stocked with crates of CSA-04's. Those were staying on Coruscant, being distributed to all sorts of criminal cells and citizens for personal use. The freighters on the landing pads were of much more importance. They were carrying a large supply of heavy weaponry, specifically crates of DT/HB-475's and DT/AI-03's. The Ironscale's on Kessel would be readily equipped with enough firepower to stand firm against a ground-based invasion.

A young man, his skin littered with the blemishes of Spice use jogged up behind me;

"Sir, the freighters will be ready to leave in roughly 10 minutes. Ground transports at least half that."

I was tense, and 10 minutes was a long time for me. But I couldn't do anything about that. Besides, I was confident DEAD was still hidden from any form of authority or government.

"Good.. good.... Just keep an eye out"

"For what Sir?"

Questions. Questions frustrated me almost as much as small talk. I slowly turned my head and looked at the young man, without word or emotion.

"Right. Will do."

With that, he scuttled off down the stairs to the landing pads to resume his work stocking the freighters. I continued to look past where he had stood and watched the gate. I had a hunch, a concerning one.

Barr Vexoshttp://starwarsrp.net/user/12682-barr-vexos/
Jessica Bowershttp://starwarsrp.net/user/19745-jessica-bowers/
[member="Rash"]

 

[Desmond C'artyom]

Desmond... Desmond had been a smuggler before and would continue to do so now. Even despite his new role in the Ascendancy... He could never have enough capitol. That and he owed a Mean Trandoshan quite a bit of money. So he would work it off, the only way he knew how. One of the freighters adorning the landing pad was none other than The Krayt Dragon. A highly modified Muurian transport, that could fly at speeds of most interceptors and was armored to take a beating. It wouldn't be long before they took off.

He watched the addicts load his ship with guns and other weaponry. He was going to make the Kessel run... Again. Something that required dexterity and no small amount of luck. If he kept this up he might just wind up lost in space one of these days. But, he prayed to the force that day might be far... Far... Away... He looked round for his crew.

Apparently manning the other ship was [member="Kvelduf Ioscyn"], a renowned pilot, but Desmond had never heard of him. Helping with Security were [member="Thraxis"] and [member="Bill Kerkov"]. Thraxis Desmond knew from his days in the Hutt Cartel. He was an alcoholic with the taste for only the most disgusting of swill. Bill was a small time pirate, whom with enough skills might even rival Causstik one day. Then there was another... One who gave Desmond the chills, but had proven a valuable member during many a heist. [member="Lark"]. He was acting intelligence during this operation and as such would coordinate the whole thing... Making sure it flowed seamlessly and smoothly.

On top of this members of another syndicate were supposedly coming into inspect the weapons for sale here. Another person who Desmond owed a debt too... [member="Erden Tarkhan"] and his men were supposed to arrive any minute now. But, Desmond knew all too well. When so many criminals gathered in one place, it usually spelled trouble. But this also meant another thing. It was the beginning of possibly a whole new criminal enterprise... Desmond shivered at thought, just when he had hoped to leave the underbelly behind, he found himself caught right in the center of it...

[member="Orex Mauda"]

 

[Lark]

Lark sat atop a shipping container overlooking the impressive operation beneath him. Former junkies loaded vessels with weaponry like a machine, each part working to assure the whole scheme didn't fall apart. At the moment Lark's mission was to ensure that the whole procedure went smoothly, and if any deviations arose he would deal with them in whatever manner he deemed most appropriate. It had been quite some time since he had helped conduct something like this, but the more time he spent working the more familiar it all felt. As a child he was able to orchestrate the destruction of his home town. He should be able to handle smuggling without much issue.

Before Lark joined the Sith, he often found himself apart of some illicit act, time after time. Once an Acolyte of the Empire, that life seemed to slowly drift away, nothing but memories. But he had found that proper balance could be achieved between both lives. When his old contact and friend [member="Desmond C'artyom"] managed to get in communication with him, Lark readily offered his services.

Lark didn't care about money or profit, although it certainly would help to have some extra funds in his back pocket. No, he enjoyed the spread of chaos and instability. It was only human nature, and he'd watch the whole galaxy writhe in it.

But there was another reason he journey this far, a more personal quest he had been embarking on for the last year or so. He was searching for his siblings, perhaps he could find some contacts here that might know something of them. Lark wouldn't bring that up now, but it would remain in the back of his mind.

A man loading weapons on one of the ships deemed it necessary to take a break, when he believed no one was looking he set his cargo down and caught his breath. That won't do, Lark thought, pitiless for the man's plight. We're on a deadline. From somewhere unseen, the poor fool would feel a dreadful force overcome him as Lark's infernal gaze fell upon him. Lark toyed with his emotions, injecting visions of fear and dismay into his mind like a parasite. An instant later the man lifted his luggage, and hurried towards the vessel. He wouldn't linger around again.

Then, Lark spotted a familiar figure in the yard where others worked. He let himself drop from the shipping container that hung above it all, falling several dozen meters to the ground like some sort of scarlet wraith. Using the Force, he slowed his descent, lightly landing near his old companion. "Desmond my friend, its been awhile." Lark approached the Chiss man, with an amiable smile on his face. "How have you been?"

[member="Orex Mauda"]

 

[Kvelduf Ioscyn]

Scowling to himself, Kveluf leant against his ship with a lit cigarette hanging from between his lips, curls of smoke twisting and dancing across his features. From behind the smoke, steel grey eyes glared at any of the workers that trudged up the ramp of Outlander to deposit the crates within her cargo hold. Possessive in the extreme, Kvelduf very rarely let anyone venture into his ship, finding that he needed to trust them to enter his domain lest his hackles rise and an urge to tear apart those that trespassed flared to life within his chest. It was for this reason that Kvelduf had been in a foul mood for the past half an hour, snapping at anyone who approached him and skulking around his ship with an ever-present cigarette clenched between his teeth.

Watching one of the workers stumble slightly, dropping the crate they had been carrying against the floor of his ship, Kvelduf's hands tightened into fists in his pockets. Grinding his teeth in annoyance, spitting out the now crushed cigarette afterwards and stamping it out with his boots, Kvleduf turned his back to the workers and meandered over to the individual that he was contracted with for the period of the job: one Desmon C'artyom.

Compared to the Chiss that Kvelduf had worked with in the past, Desmond was certainly a much more relaxed individual. Interactions with Desmond, after all, never tempted the outlaw to blurt out that the Chiss should remove the stick from his arse. However, despite the fact that Desmond was easier to work with than previous Chiss employees, Kvelduf still had misgivings about the job that he had been hired to do. Something that certainly wasn't helping his foul mood improve any.

Initially, Kvelduf had just been hired to make the Kessel Run, simple as that despite how dangerous said Run was. But, it became obvious as soon as he had arrived that the workers scurrying around the hanger were all displaying signs of spice addiction. This fact alone made Kvelduf begin to doubt the job - but, a contract was a contract. Besides, as he had reason to himself, so long as he was paid and he wasn't required to ship spice himself, he wouldn't raise a fuss and simply wash his hands of the whole thing once his contract was done. He had, after all, smuggled weapons across the galaxy before so doing so again wasn't any skin of his nose.

Still, some disquiet continued to twist within his bones as Kvelduf strode towards the Chiss and the red-head that had just joined Desmond. Nodding a greeting to both as he stopped a short distance away, Kvleduf waited for Desmond to respond to the red-head by taking the moment to withdraw and light another cigarette, the soothing sensation of the nicotine calming his jumping pulse and helping him put out of his mind the thought of the spice-addicts shambling through Outlander.

Silently, Kvelduf waited for Desmond's crimson gaze to drift over to him before tapping against his wrist was a raised eyebrow, not wanting to intrude upon the conversation between old friends from the sound of it, and, as such, choosing to ask his question without words. 'How much longer?' After all, the longer they were forced to wait around for the goods to be loaded, the greater the risk of something going wrong. He would much prefer to be up in space as soon as possible.


[member="Desmond C'artyom"] | [member="Lark"] | [member="Orex Mauda"]

 

[Mauda]

I didn't know any of them and I didn't like any of them. Each one a criminal, each one working for their own ends. But that was a disposition I could never avoid. Hatred was a universal emotion and none were an exception. Overlooking the pads I caught sight of a redheaded man with a keen eye. This one I felt less.. inclined to despise. Mostly because the minute I layed eyes on him, I felt his affinity with the force. I'm sure if ever I decided to socialise with these vagabonds, he would be one of interest.

Quietly observing I spied several Dock Staff dropping or staggering with their crates. Of course it angered me but I couldn't interrupt this crucial movement for the sake of trivial punishment. Besides, I'd only had this dock for a few weeks. These people were still coming out of their years of spice abuse, I had to give them some time to adapt to productive function.

Consumed in observation, the sudden Siren sent a wave of adrenaline through me. If I wasn't tense enough before, I certainly was now. The Siren rang through the dock, signalling the movement of the armoured ground transports. The Warehouse doors opened, adding another layer of industrial noise to the dock. As they opened, I heard the engines of the Transports spin up and carry them out of their housing. Looking beyond the pads I watched as the dark and quite menacing vehicles depart and go their separate ways into the underbelly of Coruscant. They were stocked full of personal sidearms manufactured by DEAD, to be distributed to various criminal cells across the lower levels and circulated on the black market. Those CSA-04's were DEAD's debut weapon and had been in the manufacturing process for a good while. It was a relief to finally see them on the market. But that relief was countered by the tension of the movement. I gripped the balcony rails with slight paranoia.

With the ground transports away, that meant the freighters were at least another 5 minutes off, as long as no hiccups or incursions happen to come about. As long as all runs smoothly, DEAD will be set up on Kessel within the month, and have made significant progress towards its goals.

[member="Kvelduf Ioscyn"]
[member="Lark"]
[member="Desmond C'artyom"]
[member="Jessica Bowers"]

 

[Thraxis]

Tags:

Spoiler

[member="Krest"] | [member="Darth Centax"] | [member="Vanessa Vantai"] | [member="Ella Nova"]

Loadout:

Spoiler

Chassis Slot: Thraxis Armour Helmet Slot: Enigma Gas Mask
Cloak Slot: Phantasm Cloak Greave Slot: Thraxis Armour
Pauldron Slot: Thraxis Armour Foot Slot: Thraxis Armour
Melee: Cruciatus Blade Overcoat: Jkiti Greatcoat
Rifle Slot: DEMP Sidearm Slot: Pistolas
Misc: Null Generator Hand-to-Hand Weapon: Vambrace
Tuck-A-Bag

Brute force. Muscle. Big Guns.​

​

Here, that was all he ever seemed to be. The tough guy, the man that will scowl at a child than kick a puppy to get the message across. He sighed at it all watching as Lark descended from atop a crate and made idle chatter and mingling, Thraxis pulled himself away from it, his mind stumbled on something else. Ella Nova had either been taken the prisoner or dead. Whichever of the two his contract with her was over, and effectively anything that tied him to Humbraine. In essence, he took this gig because he had grown bored and unemployed. It showed too.

Atop a crate he toyed around a loaded gun, every drop through the air he ran his finger a little heavier on the trigger until it discharged a spray of black powder, a bullet lodging itself somewhere somehow as a group of mostly colours mozied around him barely considered armed. To put it in perspective, they were a lightly armoured Colonel with no experience in a fight except shouting orders and the occasional shot of his gun for morale. Whereas he himself was a genuine tank, his guns stripping theirs in firepower and his armour weathering far more.

And the tank watched and waited, the sound of industrial noise buzzed in the air like sickening parrots, repeating the same drill over and over with mechanical ire, Thraxis eyes drawn out and dulled by the passing of melancholy and time watched them descend into the depths of Coruscant like maggots fueling their way through rotted flesh. It was what he wanted to do on Humbraine, but amassing the tools and all took far too long, and it seemed Ella Nova, had too short a lifespan to make it a reality.

 

[Jessica Bowers]

Disturb ongoing transports and apprehend the suspects were the orders sergeant Bowers had from HQ, use of non-lethal force were a priority if they were to make arrests. Secondary... Well, it would be a mess.

''You okay?'' she asked shortly and turned her helmet covered and faceless head to Mathis who sat on the passenger side of the police spinner. She knew he was, but it was a just question during operations like these. Mathis gave his usual thumbs up which made Jessica smile behind the hemlet. The drone hovered closer to the area where a distribution of illegal weapons were to be taking place right now, according to Intelligence. It moves silently and soon it qould be in reach to take full advantage of it's on board sensors like x-ray and face recognition, instantly checking for personal data and criminal records if it got a match.

The task force consisted of two other police spinners and one armored personel carrier, carrying a total group of fourteen heavily armed police officers. They were all dressed in reinforced and anonymus police armour and carried modified E-11 blaster rifles, one officer carrying a heavy repeating blaster.

Jessica eyed one of the screens on the dashboard which gave them a live camera feed from the droid. They would have an big advantage if they got to see the area beforehand. Last checks of the weapons and vehicle systems were made, seconds feeling like minutes...

 

[Mauda]

Orex was facing away from the front gate, watching as the crates were moved and the operation unfolded. They were just over 5 minutes away from being transport-ready and Orex could see the now scattered crates lying around the freighters and near the warehouses. It was smooth, everything was smooth.
Then Orex gripped the rails tighter. He had a hunch and it was growing incessantly. He decided to make use of his training on Commenor and tap into the Force. Closing his eyes he began to focus on the energy around him. Soon, the world around him fell away and all was quiet. He was consumed in the darkness behind his eyelids. Then out of that darkness came shape and definition. Without opening his eyes he could see the outline of the bars infront of him, his fingers, the veins in his hand and soon, an outline of all things.

He then began to explore. A dark energy flowed around the dock. Corrupted from all the misery and indulgence. But that was of no concern. Orex continued to explore, probing the network of energy, of the Force. He wanted to find what was giving him this anxiety. It bothered him yet he knew it could be problematic. Looking around he found nothing. More of the force, more emotions and feeling. He could feel the other Goons that had been hired to maintain security.

There was nothing in the dock. Nothing conclusive. So that left only the perimeter. It was effort and Orex was not yet adept at such an ability. But he pushed himself and took his being to the gate. The further he ventured from his mind, the harder it was to maintain focus, but he pushed further. His paranoia was intensifying as he approached the gate and he realised that whatever was giving him this anxiety resided somewhere outside. Putting two and two together, Orex assumed they were being observed.

He got to the gate and ventured further. He could feel the sweat beginning to breach his skin, his focus was waning and he wouldn't be able to keep this up but he had to root out any potential incursion. He made it just past the gate, almost 100 meters away when he felt his mind pull on him. But just before it clasped an iron grip, he made a final push, reaching out to any life or force beyond the gate. And that was all that was needed.

He felt it. Them. He saw them as a flash. A flash of voices and, as if through a keyhole, an image. A vehicle. Large. And inside a concentration of life. It wasn't conclusive and it wasn't what Orex wanted but he knew it was enough. His mind took hold of him and dragged him back, along the ground and through the gate until he snapped back into his body with the force of a punch to the gut. He opened his eyes and gripped the rails with enough force to lay his prints. But he was aware now. The anxiety disappeared and he was finally calm. Standing straight he turned to [member="Artorian Solaire"]

"Scan the perimeter, find.. something."

He then turned to face the operation below the balcony and pulled out a comms device, one given to each Hired Merc and Criminal;

"We're on high alert. Get everyone moving and be ready to engage.. anything."

Orex moved quickly to a nearby crate and picked up the first Helmet he saw. Placing it over his wounded face he returned to his position at the Balcony and waited for.. whatever may occur.

[member="Jessica Bowers"]
[member="Thraxis"]
[member="Kvelduf Ioscyn"]
[member="Lark"]
[member="Desmond C'artyom"]

 

[Jessica Bowers]

The just about one meter wide drone hovered it's way along a wall and closer to the gate that was thought to be the only enterance to the compound. The dim light outside was not a problem for it's sensors and camera equipment. It stopped when it reached an approximately maximum operating range and begun to scan through the wall with it's x-ray sensor. Back in the alley, the two officers in the first spinner watched carefully it's proceedings. Slow but steady in black and white it tried to identify the beings, one for one, checking species, high lighting armament and calculated an approximately risk if engageing the being. Still it seemed like small time goons, some trandoshans manning turrets on a catwalk... Those were of high priority to neutralize first. The spinners mounted blaster cannons would come in handy for that.

The drone hovered a bit closer. Some humans or humanoids by the looks of it. One of them impressively armoured but most of them lacked seemingly proper battle gear. Not too much of a hassle, if they just got the turrets down first.

[member="Orex Mauda"] [member="Thraxis"] [member="Desmond C'artyom"] [member="Kvelduf Ioscyn"] [member="Lark"]

 

[Mauda]

Everything was silent. The Freighters continued to be loaded albeit at a slower pace. Word of the High-Alert and potential Police Presence spread immediately and in a paradoxical change of atmosphere, The Dock stopped, yet continued its movements. I stood at the balcony breathing slowly. I watched the gate intensely, not moving an inch. Perimeter scans had returned the presence of radio signals, but nothing conclusive. But I knew someone was waiting.

Then the second Siren sounded. I spun to see the Freighters ignite their engines and begin their ascent, on their way to Kessel. My tension was relieved, but not entirely. Whoever was waiting had missed their window of significance. I watched as the pair slowly pointed up towards the grey sky, pulled back and ripped through the air towards Orbit. The Kessel facility was now going to be armed to the teeth and well protected.

DEAD was garnering too much attention and whoever was outside reflected that. We needed to dilute our movement across several more facilities. Alpha was becoming too loud. I took off the helmet and tossed it aside. An order here and there and soon Alpha was bustling with regular activity.

End.

OOC

Sorry I've had to cut this short. Lack of availability from key characters was bringing this to a halt so I've decided to just take the Successful Transport route much earlier than anticipated. Thanks for the input and such

[member="Jessica Bowers"]
[member="Thraxis"]
[member="Kvelduf Ioscyn"]
[member="Lark"]
[member="Desmond C'artyom"]
[member="Artorian Solaire"]
[member="Darth Harbinger"]
[member="Ela Saako"]