Shadow Lord
Tags: Open
Pucks & Parcel: Bounty Hunter Networking Event
Nar Shaddaa had hosted worse things than a bounty hunter convention. That was what the brochure said, anyway.
The Pucks & Parcel Expo had rented three decks of an aging orbital conference barge, polished the floors until they looked almost clean, and filled the place with every strange corner of the profession. Armor vendors lined one wall, their displays crowded with beskar-weave undersuits, duraplast plating, helmet lenses, shield bracers, reinforced dusters, and gauntlets that claimed to be 'surprisingly legal in most jurisdictions.' Arms dealers occupied another stretch of the hall, showing off stun carbines, ion pistols, collapsible vibroblades, slugthrower antiques, shock batons, net launchers, micro-missile racks, and elegant little hold-out blasters marketed to people who wanted plausible deniability.
The tech booths were somehow worse.
Tracking-droid dealers chirped over one another. A slicer collective sold encrypted comm beads beside a kiosk offering disposable false identities. Someone had a table full of locator dust, thermal-thread snares, bounty-puck readers, holo-magnifiers, signal jammers, restraining bolt kits, surveillance bugs, fake transponder tags, and palm-sized scanners that promised to detect lies, spice, explosives, and 'most forms of regret.' A stun-cuff demonstration had already gone wrong twice.
Someone else had set up a booth titled:
So You Have Been Carbon-Frozen: Legal Options After Defrosting.
So You Have Been Carbon-Frozen: Legal Options After Defrosting.
The event was also an excellent bragging ground.
Between the vendors and contract tables, the expo had cleared space for demonstration mats, story circles, and little half-legal workshops where hunters traded methods with the pride of old duelists comparing scars. A battered holo-projector advertised rotating panels in bold yellow text:
HOW I CAUGHT THEM: FIELD STORIES FROM WORKING HUNTERS
DIRTY TRICKS FOR CLEAN CAPTURES
ALIVE, UNHARMED, AND EXTREMELY ANGRY: NONLETHAL TAKEDOWNS
WILDEST PULLS FROM THE OUTER RIM
DIRTY TRICKS FOR CLEAN CAPTURES
ALIVE, UNHARMED, AND EXTREMELY ANGRY: NONLETHAL TAKEDOWNS
WILDEST PULLS FROM THE OUTER RIM
There were open sign-ups for hunters willing to show a favorite gadget, explain a strange capture, demonstrate restraint techniques on a volunteer, or tell the room how one impossible job had gone sideways before somehow turning profitable. One corner had been marked off for 'friendly' skill challenges: bind-and-break drills, quick-draw stun rounds, bounty-puck decoding races, blind tracking tests, and a tiny obstacle course where contestants were expected to retrieve a dummy target without setting off the foam mines.
A sign near the contract review tables read:
Got a story? Got a trick? Got proof? Share it.
Boasts without receipts may be heckled.
Nearby, a vendor tried to sell thermal netting to a Mandalorian who looked personally offended by the color options. Two Rodians argued over whether 'alive preferred' meant alive required. A protocol droid at the registration desk repeated, for the sixth time, that disintegrations were not permitted inside the convention hall, even if they were 'tasteful.'
A Devaronian at a weapons booth slapped the side of a shock baton and loudly promised it could drop a rancor.
The booth next to him had a printed warning that read:
NOT TESTED ON RANCORS. PLEASE STOP ASKING.
Across the aisle, a weary-looking woman in polished chest armor was explaining the difference between a lawful detainment collar and lesso three customers who did not appear comforted by the distinction. At another table, a hunter with a voice like gravel was giving a dramatic retelling of how he once tracked a target through six laundromats, two funerals, and a children's puppet theater before realizing he had been following the wrong target. The audience applauded anyways.
Past the demonstration mats, the expo opened into an active cantina scene, because someone had apparently decided that alcohol and bounty hunters belonged in the same room.
This was widely agreed to be a poor choice.
The cantina had its own security arch at the entrance, where a pair of tired attendants accepted blasters, blades, grenades, hold-out pistols, boot knives, wrist launchers, garrotes, dart rings, suspicious walking sticks, and anything described as 'not technically a weapon.' Each item was tagged, sealed, and locked into a secure weapons check until its owner left the bar.
A bright sign above the counter read:
DRINKS ARE PERMITTED. DISINTEGRATIONS ARE NOT.
WEAPONS WILL BE RETURNED UPON EXIT. EGOS MUST BE MANAGED PERSONALLY.
WEAPONS WILL BE RETURNED UPON EXIT. EGOS MUST BE MANAGED PERSONALLY.
Inside, hunters crowded around small tables and curved booths, swapping stories over cheap drinks and expensive lies. Someone at the bar was explaining, with great confidence, how they had once captured a mark using only a spoon, a shoe string, a paper clip, and excellent timing. Three others were already arguing over which part of that story was impossible.
OOC Note: This is an open social/networking thread for bounty hunters, contractors, slicers, trackers, informants, arms dealers, gadget vendors, and anyone adjacent to the trade. Feel free to have your character show off gear or try to sell some nice things you think bounty hunters might wanna buy, share field stories, demonstrate a favorite capture method, argue over contracts, browse the board, pitch a job, or tell the wildest bounty story they have.
Characters with active bounties are not unwelcome, but attending a bounty hunter networking event while actively wanted may be considered a bold life choice. Enter at your own risk, bring a disguise, or come prepared for awkward conversations.
Please keep things cooperative OOC. This thread is meant for networking
