Garbage Men

[Hannibal Oryen]

HANNIBAL ORYEN: SUPER COOL DUNGEON MASTER PRESENTS​

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GARBAGE MEN​

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STARRING [member="Jared Ovmar"]
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RAXUS SYSTEM, RAXUS SECUNDUS
HYPERION, RAXIAN PARLIAMENT

No one knew a goddamn thing about Raxus Secundus.

That tended to happen when other planets in the system were much more well-known and popular. It was rather strange that Raxus Prime got all the spotlight being the cesspool that it was. Unlike its garbage covered, environmentally wrecked, outright hostile cousin, Raxus Secundus was a pristine, environmentally stunning world. As your ship lands at the capital city of Hyperion, you note that there doesn't appear to be a smokestack or factory in sight.

One might attribute this to the excellent environmental policy of the government of Raxus Secundus and their preference for clean energy. A more observant person would point out that it was arguably the giant garbage cannons that shot the non-recyclable waste of the native populace into space on a collision course with Raxus Prime. That, and that most Secundian industrialists had been incentivized some time ago into moving their operations to Raxus Prime, where the labor was cheaper, the tax breaks were plenty, and there was not a single damn to be given about their dumping policies.

Yeah, it was probably that.

Raxus Secundus had successfully managed to stay out of the spotlight for many years. Its status as a completely ignored world had spared it a lot of oppression at the hands of Emperors. When the Empire did finally collapse, the Secundian government, a parliamentary democracy, deftly absorbed the garrison into their own armed forces and scrapped any Imperial mentions in their public spaces. It was a smooth transition from minding their own business under an Imperial banner and minding their own business on their own terms. It was helped along by the fact that no one was really watching, nor particularly caring.

From what you understood, the government of Raxus Secundus maintained that it had full ownership of Raxus Prime. This was in name only as anyone could clearly see. Raxus Prime was a lawless, murderous world ruled by Jawa and Rodian salvage clans. In addition to the more recent rogue Imperial elements that had formerly kept some semblance of order and now contributed to collective chaos. All in all, the planet of Hoth had about as much to do with keeping the peace Raxus Prime as the Secundus did. However, it was important to your plans for you to go through the proper legal channels, even if it was a trite formality.

In charge of Raxus Prime was the Minister of Purse Worlds. Officially, he was in charge of all of the worlds that Raxus Secundus held sway over: Raxus Prime and Raxus II. Don't worry about Raxus II, it's not important. In reality his position was more about ensuring the Secundian Industrialists operating on Prime didn't murder one another over territory. Even then he was often bribed into compliance with letting those shady Secundian fatcats gun one another down for salvage. In theory, he had an important job. In reality, hardly any Secundians knew he existed or that he was sucking up their tax credits like a vacuum on overdrive.

But you knew he existed and that you needed to meet with him to make your land grant "legal." Thusly you arrived just outside his office, his name labeled plainly on the door: "K. Ondo." You immediately notice that it seems to have been painted on crooked and that the desk generally reserved for a secretary is completely vacant. Judging from the dust, it had been so for a long time.

You should probably knock.

 

[Arage Bao]

You know that moment when the executive council of your megacorporation finds out that your company has been overshadowed by the newbies of the Galaxy? Well… you probably do not. But let me tell you something, it was not a pleasant conversation. A lot of screaming, cursing and body-parts flying around was involved. I mean, they had a point, sorta. Santhe Corporation has been in the biz since before the years of Darkness. So it is understandable that people get on edge, when they find out that companies like Silk Holdings and Arceneau Trade Company outdistance you.

Nevermind the fact that you -just- took control over the damn company, and that really you had a lot of stuff going on. Like being dead for a couple of months, and living inside the mind of your killer. Or trying to run a damn Confederation like the Fringe. Really, summing it all up in this manner… I am starting to realize that I might be over my head.

Normally a guy has maybe one job, maybe two if the pay is bad. But trying to lead a nation into prosperity, while juggling the needs of your corporation, while also trying to cope with the fact that you are… well… batpoodoo crazy? It wears on a man, that much is for sure.

So here I stand, in front of the office of some unknown bigwig of Raxus… Secondus. Really. They could not come up with something more original? Anyway, I immediately notice the fact that this guy does not even have a secretary. What is up with that? Probably because nobody seeks his approval, or council anyway. So why bother paying for the extra help, when nobody makes an appointment anyway.

After a second or so, I decide to knock on the door first. Sure, I could have just blasted it off the hinges and enter with a barrel-roll. But sometimes you gotta do things the proper way. Or so I am told.

So that is what I do, I knock and then wait politely. The guy is probably going to let me wait for a while, let me simmer down and pretend to be all high and noble. Hate that.

Let us see how this goes.


[member="Hannibal Oryen"]

 

[Hannibal Oryen]

[member="Jared Ovmar"]

A minute ticks by. Then two. Then three. Eventually, seven. Finally, the door slides upwards as doors in sci-fi settings are wont to do. With the door out of the way, you find there an Aqualish. Not just any Aqualish, mind you. This Aqualish, Ken Ondo, looks old enough to have been a witness to the Clone Wars. He's decked out in a typical politician's attire, mostly reminiscent of those weird robes Senators in the Republic sometimes wear. On the downside, they look run down and almost as old as he is. Upon inspection, the office doesn't appear to be in any better shape than the rest of Ondo. Perhaps at some point it had been the utter epitome of pristine. Now it looked more like an antique store from the Old Republic era.

Ondo said something which might have been a greeting. It was difficult to tell, as it sounded more like a pained wheeze than anything else. With the blinding speed that had originally brought him to the door, Ondo began to turn around and head back towards his dilapidated desk. A minute ticked by...

 

[Arage Bao]

First thought when seeing that thing? “Aren’t you an ugly motherkarker.” Second thought? “How the nether are you able to vacuum all that tax money, and still do your business in this dumb?” Then again, it might actually be a very good way of doing business. Think about it, if people realized what this guy was doing with their money… well probably a lot of blood, and shouting. So in that way it -made- a lot of sense, not to show off your newly-found wealth.

Before the vox-populi came in, and take it all back at least. Honestly after looking at the old old alien, it was hard to feel very annoyed at the wait. It had probably taken him ages to stand up, and open the door. So he got a pass for that.

“The pleasure is mine, Grand Magister Ondo. I have brought with me presents, as a thank you for receiving me this… quickly.”

Behind me came my own personal Z1 Assistant Droidhttp://starwarsrp.net/topic/22447-z1-assistant-droid/, personally I was not so sure why I needed one. But Hannibal urged me to get one, so his… well our company would get much needed publicity. Sometimes I forget that not all companies are Santhe Corporation, that some companies still needed to grow a lot before they could access the revenue stream which I took for granted.

I sat down in the chair in front of the alien, and waited patiently until he himself would sit down and start the meeting.


[member="Hannibal Oryen"]

 

[Hannibal Oryen]

[member="Jared Ovmar"]

Eventually the antiquated Aqualish was able to return to the opposite side of the desk, shakily lowering himself back into the decaying office chair. The door slid shut automatically behind Ovmar, leaving him trapped in the musty, poorly lit, virtual time-capsul of an office with Old Man Ondo. There were worse fates than death. This was one of them. Ondo began to speak, similar to the pained wheeze from before, albeit slightly more articulated. After what might have been a fortnight, Ken concluded his sentence and pressed a button on a moderately sized device on his desk.

The device was a translator, possibly one that had been used by someone who fought in the army of Xim the Despot. Unless Ovmar was particularly gifted in understanding the guttural Aqualish language, he would have to listen to the translation device very carefully.

"PROCESSING." The device blurted out before starting to chug and groan with the effort.

 

[Arage Bao]

As I was sitting there, and listening to his rambling a thought came to me. Did he even realize that I had no clue what he was saying? Or had he been expecting me to figure out a whole new language just for this one meeting with him? Probably, he did look that pompous. Probably thought the whole world circled around Secun-- woops. He is starting up a translator.

Seems he realized that I had no karking idea what he was saying. Patiently I waited for the damn translator to do its work. This was going to be a long meeting, at least so it seemed.


[member="Hannibal Oryen"]

 

[Hannibal Oryen]

[member="Jared Ovmar"]

In the time it took for the antique, bygone translation device to process Ondo's whispy speech, an entire generation of humans came and went. Not really, obviously, but that's certainly what it felt like. The eerie silence, punctuated only by the whirring of the translator's internal components, clung to the room with vicious force. This thing probably didn't even have a solid state hard drive. How barbaric. Still, it couldn't take much longer. Not after all this waiting.

Eventually the machine belted out a full translation.

"PROCESSING ERROR. TRY AGAIN."

No, wait a minute that couldn't possibly be what he said. Ondo slowly blinked, eyeing his machine with... It was actually impossible to tell if he even fully realized what had just happened. Could Ondo even feel emotion beyond senile acceptance? Ondo began his ramble once again with no apparent sense of urgency. If you don't find a way to speed things along, it was entirely plausible that you would miss the next Republic-Mandalorian War couped up in this office. There probably won't even be a rescue operation, considering scarcely anyone seems to know it's here.

If only there was a droid with six million languages programmed into it standing just behind you.

 

[Arage Bao]

For a very very very long long second I was seriously considering just using the Force to get my way. Old and senile, he probably would not have had a lot of defenses against the might of a Force Master. It would be easy, and maybe even a bit profitable. For one, I would not have to pay anything. Secondly, even though his position was merely ceremonial and did not actually mean as much as he thought he did... that could change. Having this guy in my pocket would be quite.. handy.

Then again, it was also possible to use the damn droid Hannibal forced upon me. If you believed him the thing had over a million languages stored in its data-banks.

Damn Hannibal, and his ability to see into the future. Always messing up my fun, and being a general party pooper. I waved towards the droid, and then commanded him to translate whatever the tusked fish alien thingie was trying to say.

[member="Hannibal Oryen"]

 

[Hannibal Oryen]

[member="Jared Ovmar"]

The Z1, we'll call her Zelda, didn't so much look at either Ovmar or Ondo. Compiling translations did not need to involve her directing her photoreceptors into the eyes of either the Aqualish or the human. She was here to do as instructed and little else. Such was the life of an assistant droid. With great capacity for intelligent and creative action came great risk for sapience. Z1s were far more susceptible to self-awareness than the rest of the droid models of the Zenithar series. Although Cestus did issue warnings about this frequently, the extent to which the Z1s required memory-wipes was possibly under-emphasized.

Zelda found herself formulating an opinion on the Aqualish language as she processed the Grand Magister's near-unintelligible speech. Namely, that the Aqualish language was an affront to the galaxy by and large and should be exterminated along with the entire Aqualish population, followed by a prudent glassing of the planet Ando to ensure that no similar lifeforms ever evolved there again.

You know, typical droid stuff.

Despite the above, it only took Zelda two seconds to inform Ovmar as to what Ondo had said.

"The venerable Grand Magister Ken Ondo bids you the highest welcome and would like to inquire as to the nature of your visit."

Ondo looked at the droid, no notable emotions playing off his face. His hand slowly and shakily retreated from the translation device, now that it was apparent it would no longer be needed.

 

[Arage Bao]

Had I known just then what kind of thoughts the droid had, I would have probably proposed on the spot. Right after searching for a new host for her, probably something hothttp://videogame-art.com/wp-content...fect3_EdiAlternateArmor02_RafaelGrassetti.jpg and sexy. Sadly she never related her thoughts to me, so I was not able to do anything about it. But regardless, I am usually too lazy anyway. Even now I cannot remember if I actually ended up wiping her memory as I was supposed to.

Probably.

Maybe.

Hopefully.

For some reason I had the feeling we would soon embark on a whole new adventure. Might be interesting. Maybe there were going to be gigantic space AI aliens, who threaten to destroy our galaxy and harvest us. Now.. that sounds like fun. Just gotta get myself a crew, and a cool frigate, and I am all set.

Finally I answered the man in my usual manner, and the droid translated it for me. For some reason, without actually telling Jared, the droid decided it would be best to stay a tad civil in this matter.

Strange, seeing as it was just musing about committing genocide. Maybe it wanted to help her master, or maybe it was just a female droid with female problems. Like never knowing what they really want.

<< [STATEMENT]The High Lord Ovmar accepts your welcome, and wishes to share with you his high regard towards your persona.[EXPLANATION]The High Lord wishes to acquire certain grands for lands on Raxus Prime, payment is not an issue. >>

[member="Hannibal Oryen"]

 

[Hannibal Oryen]

[member="Jared Ovmar"]

Ondo shifted his gaze between the CEO and the droid, digesting that response. Why did the droid start off its sentences with the type of statement it was making? He was old and senile, not stupid. That did not matter, though. Ondo was far too senile to find that insulting. Instead he was wondering what his grandkids were up to, and why they hadn't called him recently. He was also completely unaware that he had forgotten to pay his telecommunications bill, and so the telecommunicators in his house could not make nor receive calls. A repairman had been called no less than three times, each time offering different explanations and stating that the problem was fixed. They continued to wrongfully milk Ondo for his cash.

But that's not what this thread is about.

Ondo rasped something out, ducking behind his desk to retrieve some things.

"The honorable Grand Magister wishes to inform you that he will provide you with the relevant paperwork."

Eventually Ondo came back up, sliding a thick stack of flimsiplast across the desk along with a stylus. Within that stack was the information Ovmar needed to secure some real estate on Raxus Prime. There were a list of zones, most of which were already listed as owned. The remainder were quite expensive, but at the same time rather expansive. For about twenty-five million credits, he could secure sole rights to about a quarter of a continent. In terms of legality and bureaucracy, of course. The squatters, salvagers, pirates, and cultists living on that land didn't answer to paperwork. There was a reason that swath hadn't already been bought.

All Ovmar had to do was indicate what he wanted to buy and fill in his information. Secundian bureaucrats and his own staff could sort out the rest.

 

[Arage Bao]

Had Jared known what was happening to the old senile man, he probably would have put a stop to it. Sadly… he did not know, and say one thing about Jared Ovmar say he is not a filthy meta’er. So the repairmen would get their easy money, for now.

Of course he had done his research beforehand, and that was the reason that Jared knew about one particular continent which was being sold in its entirety for a bargain price. Reason for that? There was a war going on there right about… now.

See, ever since the Sith Empire got dissolved rogue elements were trying to snatch away pieces of the proverbial pie. Simply said, there were a couple of Sith Knights with a small Imperial Army, and stolen Santhe tech that was bolstering their forces.

They were very busy rooting out all the other factions on the continent, so let’s just say that things will get explosive pretty quickly in a few days.

Jared looked back at the droid, and told… Zelda what to translate.


<< [Statement] The High Lord wishes to buy the continent with the designation #700548L|) >>


[member="Hannibal Oryen"]

 

[Hannibal Oryen]

[member="Jared Ovmar"]

Ondo should have been shocked, maybe questioned a little bit why Ovmar would buy a war-torn chunk of land above all others. The reason he didn't was because he didn't even know. He was only dimly aware of the world around him, so it ought to come as no surprise that his knowledge of Raxus Prime's affairs was both limited and dated. He still couldn't figure out why the Imperial Ministry of Logistics wasn't returning his e-mails like they used to.

Once Jared had gone through the paperwork and signed everything to satisfaction, Ondo took it back, leafed through it for a few moments and then took it back. He wheezed a response once again whilst placing the paperwork in a drawer on his desk. Hopefully, hopefully, he wouldn't forget about it. He would probably set about filing it as soon as Ovmar left. It wasn't as though he had anything else to do.

"His excellency, the Grand Magister, would like to inform you that your paperwork will be processed and you shall be notified immediately upon its completion."