Causstik Rahn
Psycho
(OOC: Causstik is not in the thread yet. For now just get acquainted aboard the refugee ship. You will be enslaved shortly)
The S.S. Broken Bow sailed through hyperspace, it's destination, Galactic Alliance territory. The Captain had begun making a killing off the Refugees fleeing the fallout from the collapse of The Republic and One Sith. Despite the conditions they paid fortunes to board the vessel. Anything to escape the deranged warlords who rose from the government's ashes. So the Captain had found himself becoming very rich off a tub of bolts he had bought for two thousand credits. Dim blue lights and black swirls like whirlpools danced around her as she continued her voyage through the void.
The S.S. Broken Bow was not a pretty ship. The paint was scraped bare, pock marks covered her hull, and half her machinery did not work. The boat was as old as The Republic the captain would joke. The truth was, she was even older. Deeper within the bowls of the ancient vessel lurked something even more ancient. It's consciousness were many, but it thought of itself as one. It slithered through the vents and trash compactors that it called home. It did not think beyond it must feed. It ate the living and absorbed the minds of it's prey. It had grown fat and large over its millennia and now the time to feed had come again. Every now and then a Refugee would disappear and if anyone looked carefully in the water that they drank they might find a string of white worms…
The interior was worse. Half the lights didn't work and the ones that did flickered on and off giving only a hint of some of the more sinister sentients who decided to take advantage of the dim passages. The rooms built for one family were crammed with five, many of the occupants had to take turns standing up so someone else could use the beds. Layer upon layer of trash piled up in the corners. The restrooms did not flush properly and the Captain warned that repeated attempt of their use would result in cabin decompression. Make shift lieu's had been made to accommodate the guest, but they had to be emptied out. Needless to say no one ever did and the resulting smell was horrendous.
A few twist and turns later you'd end up in the cargo bay. Giant rusted containers littered the floor. Some were actually in use for their intended purposes, housing miscellaneous supplies for the ship, but the majority were simply their to provide privacy for their inhabitants. The Cargo hold was first class. This is where the lucky few who got aboard quickly claimed their first come first serve rights. These people actually got their own bed, although the stench of waste was most prominent here and they were not entirely alone.
The ship exited Hyperspace abruptly and the Captain swore at the helm.
"Attention folks! We've made a slight detour for fuel. We'll be continuing our route shortly!" He barked over the comms.
The truth was the Hyperdrive was probably leaking radioactive fuel again. The captain sighed. Their was only a few families housed near the old device and no one would likely miss them. The man opened a private comm channel to engineering.
"What do I pay you for you lazy bastards! Get off your shebs and go see what's wrong with that Hyperdrive!"
The Captain rolled his eyes and sat his plump bottom down on his cushioned command chair. Where the hell are we anyways? The fat man wondered to himself then checked the Navigation chart. "Unknown Region… Mugg Fallow," He said curiously. He had never heard of the place… He looked out the cock pit window and studied the planet for a time.
It was a desert world surrounded by a ring of what appeared to be derelict ships. Probably a fortune among those ships.. The fat man thought greedily.
[member="Xiarr Sair"]
[member="Lark"]
[member="Sage Annel"]
[member="Razel Kolt"]
[member="Gryphin Growling-Star"]
The S.S. Broken Bow sailed through hyperspace, it's destination, Galactic Alliance territory. The Captain had begun making a killing off the Refugees fleeing the fallout from the collapse of The Republic and One Sith. Despite the conditions they paid fortunes to board the vessel. Anything to escape the deranged warlords who rose from the government's ashes. So the Captain had found himself becoming very rich off a tub of bolts he had bought for two thousand credits. Dim blue lights and black swirls like whirlpools danced around her as she continued her voyage through the void.
The S.S. Broken Bow was not a pretty ship. The paint was scraped bare, pock marks covered her hull, and half her machinery did not work. The boat was as old as The Republic the captain would joke. The truth was, she was even older. Deeper within the bowls of the ancient vessel lurked something even more ancient. It's consciousness were many, but it thought of itself as one. It slithered through the vents and trash compactors that it called home. It did not think beyond it must feed. It ate the living and absorbed the minds of it's prey. It had grown fat and large over its millennia and now the time to feed had come again. Every now and then a Refugee would disappear and if anyone looked carefully in the water that they drank they might find a string of white worms…
The interior was worse. Half the lights didn't work and the ones that did flickered on and off giving only a hint of some of the more sinister sentients who decided to take advantage of the dim passages. The rooms built for one family were crammed with five, many of the occupants had to take turns standing up so someone else could use the beds. Layer upon layer of trash piled up in the corners. The restrooms did not flush properly and the Captain warned that repeated attempt of their use would result in cabin decompression. Make shift lieu's had been made to accommodate the guest, but they had to be emptied out. Needless to say no one ever did and the resulting smell was horrendous.
A few twist and turns later you'd end up in the cargo bay. Giant rusted containers littered the floor. Some were actually in use for their intended purposes, housing miscellaneous supplies for the ship, but the majority were simply their to provide privacy for their inhabitants. The Cargo hold was first class. This is where the lucky few who got aboard quickly claimed their first come first serve rights. These people actually got their own bed, although the stench of waste was most prominent here and they were not entirely alone.
The ship exited Hyperspace abruptly and the Captain swore at the helm.
"Attention folks! We've made a slight detour for fuel. We'll be continuing our route shortly!" He barked over the comms.
The truth was the Hyperdrive was probably leaking radioactive fuel again. The captain sighed. Their was only a few families housed near the old device and no one would likely miss them. The man opened a private comm channel to engineering.
"What do I pay you for you lazy bastards! Get off your shebs and go see what's wrong with that Hyperdrive!"
The Captain rolled his eyes and sat his plump bottom down on his cushioned command chair. Where the hell are we anyways? The fat man wondered to himself then checked the Navigation chart. "Unknown Region… Mugg Fallow," He said curiously. He had never heard of the place… He looked out the cock pit window and studied the planet for a time.
It was a desert world surrounded by a ring of what appeared to be derelict ships. Probably a fortune among those ships.. The fat man thought greedily.
[member="Xiarr Sair"]
[member="Lark"]
[member="Sage Annel"]
[member="Razel Kolt"]
[member="Gryphin Growling-Star"]
