Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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First Reply No Refunds

Secondhand Starship Dealership
Somewhere Fairly Poor


"As you can no doubt tell, this baby has seen some action-" The hull was pockmarked with what looked like laser fire, or, given the shallow nature, blaster fire. Most of the 'scars' were at the rear - perhaps the previous owner had made a habit of being shot after with small arms fire. "- but she still handles beautifully."

"Personally, I'd take that as a good sign! If something has been shot this much yet still works good as new-" That was a straight lie. "- that must make it really bloody hardy. Tough enough for whatever you have in mind, no doubt!"

Spreading his hands dramatically, Connor's general demeanor seemed to indicate that the dingy old ship was (insert religious figure)'s gift to (insert buyer). "So, what do you think? Want to see the interior?"
 
Wearing: Interceptor Gear

Armed With: Mercenary Slugthrower


Nathan, stone faced as always, observed the ships in hand as he entered the dealership, a figure in black biker leathers, with a frighteningly expressionless face despite otherwise handsome looks. He wasn't looking for anything impressive. Just serviceable. Functional.

If he was gonna resume his war with the Cult, he needed something that could serve as a primitive base of operations while on the run.

Since learning they still existed. They lived rent free in his head, and it was an affront to his pride that he would not tolerate.

As he walked the dealership, looking at the vessels, his eye settled on a beat up Gozanti Cruiser. As he approached it, Eocin Chiyat Eocin Chiyat approached, singing it's appraisals.

Nathan's head swiveled in a nigh mechanical motion, perfectly still.

"Sure..." Nathan said. "Why not?"
 
This one was hard to read. Maybe he had been raised by droids, or been in an industrial accident, or worst of all - served in the military. Whatever the case, Connor did not mind a challenge (even if easy paydays were better).

"Excellent!" With a click on something resembling a second-hand airspeeder key, the entry ramp was lowered, exposing the interior to the pair. If the customer was hoping for Imperial minimalism, he was in for a rough revelation - one or more of the various people who had owned the cruiser over the years clearly had eclectic tastes.

The walls, once a clean grey, were covered in faded pink-and-yellow art deco paint. Faded because some of Connor's 'interns' had powerwashed it without checking if it was easily removable first.

They had subsequently been assigned to clean the refresher with their toothbrushes.

"As you can see, it's downright homey. Perfect for a traveller such as yourself!" While leading the way towards the bridge, he nodded towards a bedroom. "That bedroom has a king-sized bed, instead of the usual bunk beds. I don't imagine you were planning to bring a handful of troopers with you?" What Connor forgot to mention was that the bed was a holdover from the last owner and that the mattress had not been changed. In fact, none of the furniture had been replaced.

Connor had ordered some cheap repairs to the most worn-out items, however.

Whether those repairs would last was not really his problem, was it?
 
Nathan's head swiveled in an unnaturally precise manner about as he glanced at the interior Eocin Chiyat Eocin Chiyat showed him. Garish paint faded on the walls. Second rate furniture. He was really selling it as well as he could, Nathan would give him that much.

He remained silent, face frozen in grimness, not an ounce of humor or levity in his green eyed gaze.

"Troopers? No. No troopers..." Nathan replied to Connor's rhetorical question.

"I'm not really all that concerned for the furniture. I know this is all hand me downs. But what does concern me are the electronics and the engineering section. Are both up to code at least for used vehicles? What about weapons?" The grim man asked, tone polite but icy. "I'm willing to pay for it, but the power plant and electronics must be as free of potential malfunction or failure as a used vessel in this class possibly could be."
 
A practical man! He could work with that, though airheaded customers were certainly preferable.

"Oh, the ship's systems are practically good as new." Another lie. "The previous owner took good care of her and I've made sure everything's in tip-top shape." He had done everything except source components legal, trustworthy sources. Or spend all that much time making sure the repairs wouldn't fall apart in the long-term.

In truth, most of the work had been done by self-taught mechanics and unpaid interns.

"On my honour as a merchant, it will get you where you need to go - and blast apart who you need blasted apart. I even took the liberty of updating the laser cannons!" True, for once, though the 'upgrades' used radioactive materials to 'spice up' the damage output. It was cheap, deadly, and liable to explode if overheated.

Nothing most people would notice while testing the product, fortunately!
 
Nathan remained stone faced, gaze unfeeling, as he began making rounds to inspect the cockpit. He looked at the console, noticed the remains of old coffee stains that had seeped onto switches. He toggled them. Still slightly sticky.

He said nothing at Eocin Chiyat Eocin Chiyat 's proclamation of honor (He'd met Kleptomaniacs who had more integrity) and immediately went to inspect the power plant. Connor could hide cosmetic damage, but the power plant would tell the story.

Engineering looked clean, but as he began inspecting the power conduits fuel connection and power regulation and plasma flow control, Strobrac's claim began to fall apart.

"That Regulator..." Nathan said stoically, pointing to one component. "That's a knockoff of a CEC product. Fastenings are starting to rust. That conduit..." he continued, "appears to have been improperly installed by your engineers at first, someone caught it, and desperately had to modify the component itself to avoid damage when power passed through it. Most of the circuitry from what I can tell isn't even Imperial, but a combination of various other corporations, most of which are not normally meant to work together. And this radioactive power source attached to the main plant feeding into the weapons isn't thick enough..."

Nathan didn't frown. "Total estimated time until overhaul is required to all systems...I wager about five months. Total time until complete failure of all systems without overhaul...seven months. Optimal operational condition until problems become overwhelming...three months..."

Nathan paced about, thinking.

"Ah well... probably not going to last too long with where I'm going anyway. Sacrificial asset if nothing else. Tell you what, you drop the price by ten percent on this, and I'll purchase another ship in addition to this one, but the second one must be a dedicated Military vessel. Preferably something like a C-70 Charger, and unlike this one, which you have clearly had worked on by first year Engineering students at best the second vessel really will need to have had your best on hand. I want the vessel off this lot you yourself would take, if you didn't have your own..."
 
The customer knew his engineering. Fuck. That was never good for business.

Fortunately, he was willing to overlook it for a discount (ye gods, how he hated that word) and an opportunity. Eying the man for a long moment, Connor evidently liked what he saw, for a wicked smile soon graced his lips. The first genuine smile of their encounter. "That can be arranged - if you have the credits, of course. Ships like that don't come cheap."

Assuming he answered in the affirmative, Connor's smile would broaden further.

"Excellent. I happen to have found myself in possession of a surplus corvette from a nearby defence force." 'Surplus' was stretching the truth past the breaking point, but no one in their right mind bought new-ish warships from used-ship-salesmen expecting anything but a product with dubious provenance.

Let's just say that some local officials had misappropriated a bit of Alliance defence funding and made both themselves and more importantly him richer in the process. What were the odds of a Maw attack, anyway?

"It's a Templar-class Armored Gunship, in case you're familiar. Flew out of the yard a mere five years ago - the paint isn't even scratched. I can even give you five percent below market price. Because I like you."

Or rather, because he didn't exactly have proof of ownership that would stand up to scrutiny.
 
"You'll get your credits..." Nathan assured grimly. "Assuming I like what I see..."

To prove he wasn't joking, Nathan reached into his pocket, retrieving a few Nova Rubies, which he handed to Eocin Chiyat Eocin Chiyat .

"There's more where that came from..." Nathan said quietly. "That's a down payment, so you make sure the paperwork stays in a very secure dumpster fire."

Nathan then went off to examine the gunship, assuming Connor would give just as eager a tour, more so for tax free gemstones, each worth thousands of credits.
 
Nova rubies as down payment? That's more like it.

Not only were they valuable, but they were also compactly valuable and thus easier to launder. It was Life Day come early for someone who only paid their taxes when he absolutely had to. "Fantastic. Right this way."

As they walked, the gems disappeared into some hidden pocket or another.

"Don't worry, disappearing paperwork is a speciality of mine." Another truth. He did not usually go this long without lying to a customer. "Like I mentioned, it's barely seen any action. I checked out the systems, but didn't actually need to do anything." It would likely need some hefty maintenance in a year or less, but that was to be expected with warships.

He led them to a shuttle, not the gunship. The ship itself was in orbit.

There was simply no way to store a warship taller than most high-rise buildings planetside without a lot of attention.

 
Nathan remained silent, still like a statue, as the shuttle took off, only the occasional glance of his eyes at the statements made by Eocin Chiyat Eocin Chiyat any assurance he was paying attention, only the slight rising and falling of his chest any assurance he was alive as the Shuttle docked with the impressive looking gunship and he came aboard.

Nathan casually inspected the controls in the cockpit, the bulkheads, the hull, the electronics. Of special interest was engineering. He inspected all of it. Looked to be in great condition, despite being used. Every part was well cared for. Circuitry was up to code.

"Yeah, this is definitely what I'm looking for..." He said quietly. He reached into his jacket, pulled out a large bag of Nova Rubies, and Fire Diamonds.

How had he gotten the gemstones to pay for this?

(Cutaway of Nathan going completely apechit in a Brain Demon Temple)

"I'll take it." Nathan said. This should cover the Gunship and that Gozanti.

Nathan leaned against the hull.

"Say...I got a proposition for you..." He trailed. "I wonder how extensive your connections really are. I've recently acquired an old derelict Luxury Station I'm trying to get back in order. It's not mine obviously, I found it. But I'm gonna be starting and running a business out of it. Shipping Bacta. If you can put me in contact with repair teams who won't ask questions, and slicers who can get past some Military Grade security that's hampering my efforts to fully control it's workings...I'll let you in on fifteen percent of the profits I make."
 
The greed in Connor's eyes was transparent in the extreme - as quickly as the small fortune was offered, it disappeared beneath his jacket. Unlike the previous gem, the bag was big enough to leave a bit of a bulge.

"Fantastic. I am confident these fine vessels will suit your purposes."

If not, oh well. Connor would not be issuing any refunds.

"It's a big job," Connor remarked, the greed never leaving his eyes. "Fortunately, I know some people who know to keep their mouths shut so long as they're paid. Some are rather good at liberating hardware from burdensome software."

Normally he would be haggling at this stage, but fifteen percent was quite the offer. That said...

"Fifteen percent of net revenue? I can agree to that... so long as there is a minimum payout."

Connor was no stranger to tanking net revenue to screw over other people. It was an old trick - and often legal!
 
"I will guarantee a three point five percent minimum payout on net revenue. I have methods of producing Bacta that are faster, more efficient. The worrisome part is protecting the shipment from pirates." Nathan replied, knowing now that Eocin Chiyat Eocin Chiyat was interested. He paced around a bit.

"I have a Bacta production plant on Epica about ten to twelve days away from opening. Finalizing safety checks on all equipment. You come over to the station hovering above Epica's star in a few days, and bring some repair and slicing teams, and we will finalize all arrangements there. Mind you...the station will not be in the best of condition. Afterwards, we'll make the journey to the surface, so you can see the factory yourself."

His already grim expression than hardened.

"I recognize you're shady, I get that. I imagine you will attempt to skim some sort of extra profits off the top. Cut a few corners here and there. Fine. It would prove more troublesome than its worth to micromanage you. As long as you can keep the station working and find me people who know their way around military blockades I can handle the rest. But I do have five rules for you and your associates while you are aboard the station. No Drugs. No Slaves. No Murder. No Red Light District stuff. No using the station to discuss or plot to acquire these things or bring aboard such things. And on these five rules alone, I will tolerate no violation. Anything else...I will overlook..."

Nathan folded his hands behind his back. "As long you abide by these five, you and the teams you hire will always be permitted on the station. I'll even kick a ship or two I happen to...find... your way."
 

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