Amarant
Dead Men End All Tales.
[member="Darth Metus"] [member="Darth Kentarch"] [member="Sochi Ru"] [member="Akabane Jarvik"] @Aut-X @Tmoxin Temi [member="Darth Interitus"] [member="IT-88"] [member="Natasha Darkstar"] [member="Natalie LaForte"] [member="Ardgal Raxis"] @Arlox @Kal Jaii [member="Aedan Miles"] [member="Marcus Lund"]
A room full of people, to be sure. Ash's scanners and facial recognition knew a few among them. Still, the outreach to the Black Scorpions has been pretty simple. Less begging for scraps from Hutts, less running with cartels, and more power, money and worth. He was certain a few in the room might notice he was a droid playing at being a cyborg with sufficient sensor design or forcer poodoo, but most of them likely didn't care, and fewer still would notice. Still, he watched as many around the room shuffled positions and ascended or descended. Ash hadn't technically been invited to this soiree, he was more of a contractor. Still, he found himself once again hearing the struggle of leaders. The hooded guy was right, for all the theatricality involved.
He looked at the group. Droids. Combat-cyborgs. Alien warlords. Saber-jockeys. He had seen the Raxis guy before, but never in person, just in holo-files. Dude ran arms and weapons to the highest bidder, and did some design work as well. He could outfit the entire Hudnred Ghosts division over night, if somebody gave him a big enough sack of credits.
The one in the hood who spoke up....he was with the Black Legion. His own men hadn't acquired much data on them, but they had some sort of feud with some other Sith. Odds are he was here to get strength in numbers, or to find a planet to call his own pet-project.
The man at the helm of this, his name ad changed a dozen times, but the one Ash knew him by was Verd. Man had a hell of a reputation, with ambitions ranging from Mandalore to Geonosis and back. Mind of a general, and that weird, clannish thing so many Mandos swore up and down by. A damned maniac, but a talented one.
Some of the others, he'd seen before, but only in passing. Aut-X and Miles were both part of the Assessor's Threat Codex, with Aut-X being viewed as a long-term commander for campaigns, and Miles as a more mercurial, but reliably dangerous sort of person. La Forte was actually considerable as a potential client--politicians with money made for good regular bodyguard contracts. Some of the others, he'd never seen before. Tech-heads, droids, and some real skulkers. Still, dim red photoreceptors gleamed briefly in the sterile industrial light of the meeting hall.
"The man with a hood has a point," the droid feigning a pulse said with a wave of his hand, his tone gentle, if still heavily digital-sounding. "While commander Aut-X's and the Viceprex's work is admirable, some of our employ will need weapons, food, gear, and most importantly, some actual areas of strategic value. The foundries are far from a poor start," Ash said, adjusting his tie, realizing that most of the room was now looking at his grim visage, "But as sure as I'm more metal than flesh, we certainly will need to exert our power meaningfully to make sure all gathered have an opportunity to earn a cut worth the investment. However, subtlety can also be part of the plan," he mused out loud. "Tell me, how many people in nearby systems would you say are sympathetic to our cause? It's easier to walk in as liberators than storm in as conquerors, even if we have a damn good amount of military muscle here. Any tyrant Hutts or brain-dead despots we can look like saints next to? Or that some of you can look like heroes next to while I handle more discreet problems? Force knows I'm getting a bit too blunt in my old age," the droid had a hoarse laugh, which seemed more legit than synthetic.
"Still, I suppose we need a plan, and some way to define our needs. General Aut-X," he addressed the droid by his title--it was an earned rank, after all. "You and the Viceprex have known the biggest players in this sector for a while, since you actually live here. Any chance either of you have a list of....roadblocks that small, precise teams of elite specialists can handle? My self and Lord....Kentarch, right? Sorry, I'm a bit rough with names, haven't really dealt with this sector much--both would be happy to find way to accelerate the time table, provided the pay-off is worth it--namely, territory and resources, if I were to guess correctly. I'm sure there are others in this room with a similar mindset, but I've yet to see everyone's sabacc cards on the table."
Ash grinned. He was certain that his presumptuousness might be a bit much, but it was keenly obvious that a hit-list of valuable targets would be a damn good deal to the mercenaries in the room. It was also obvious that Kentateuch...Kentaro....damnit, he was gonna have to write that down later. Anyway, the hooded guy was definitely interested in haste over deliberation. So, maybe cutting to the quick would get some of the other players to acknowledge who, in this room, was eager to do some damage.
Or it could just make everyone mad at the weird-looking psycho in a fancy black suit. Hard to work a room when you don't have enough intel.
A room full of people, to be sure. Ash's scanners and facial recognition knew a few among them. Still, the outreach to the Black Scorpions has been pretty simple. Less begging for scraps from Hutts, less running with cartels, and more power, money and worth. He was certain a few in the room might notice he was a droid playing at being a cyborg with sufficient sensor design or forcer poodoo, but most of them likely didn't care, and fewer still would notice. Still, he watched as many around the room shuffled positions and ascended or descended. Ash hadn't technically been invited to this soiree, he was more of a contractor. Still, he found himself once again hearing the struggle of leaders. The hooded guy was right, for all the theatricality involved.
He looked at the group. Droids. Combat-cyborgs. Alien warlords. Saber-jockeys. He had seen the Raxis guy before, but never in person, just in holo-files. Dude ran arms and weapons to the highest bidder, and did some design work as well. He could outfit the entire Hudnred Ghosts division over night, if somebody gave him a big enough sack of credits.
The one in the hood who spoke up....he was with the Black Legion. His own men hadn't acquired much data on them, but they had some sort of feud with some other Sith. Odds are he was here to get strength in numbers, or to find a planet to call his own pet-project.
The man at the helm of this, his name ad changed a dozen times, but the one Ash knew him by was Verd. Man had a hell of a reputation, with ambitions ranging from Mandalore to Geonosis and back. Mind of a general, and that weird, clannish thing so many Mandos swore up and down by. A damned maniac, but a talented one.
Some of the others, he'd seen before, but only in passing. Aut-X and Miles were both part of the Assessor's Threat Codex, with Aut-X being viewed as a long-term commander for campaigns, and Miles as a more mercurial, but reliably dangerous sort of person. La Forte was actually considerable as a potential client--politicians with money made for good regular bodyguard contracts. Some of the others, he'd never seen before. Tech-heads, droids, and some real skulkers. Still, dim red photoreceptors gleamed briefly in the sterile industrial light of the meeting hall.
"The man with a hood has a point," the droid feigning a pulse said with a wave of his hand, his tone gentle, if still heavily digital-sounding. "While commander Aut-X's and the Viceprex's work is admirable, some of our employ will need weapons, food, gear, and most importantly, some actual areas of strategic value. The foundries are far from a poor start," Ash said, adjusting his tie, realizing that most of the room was now looking at his grim visage, "But as sure as I'm more metal than flesh, we certainly will need to exert our power meaningfully to make sure all gathered have an opportunity to earn a cut worth the investment. However, subtlety can also be part of the plan," he mused out loud. "Tell me, how many people in nearby systems would you say are sympathetic to our cause? It's easier to walk in as liberators than storm in as conquerors, even if we have a damn good amount of military muscle here. Any tyrant Hutts or brain-dead despots we can look like saints next to? Or that some of you can look like heroes next to while I handle more discreet problems? Force knows I'm getting a bit too blunt in my old age," the droid had a hoarse laugh, which seemed more legit than synthetic.
"Still, I suppose we need a plan, and some way to define our needs. General Aut-X," he addressed the droid by his title--it was an earned rank, after all. "You and the Viceprex have known the biggest players in this sector for a while, since you actually live here. Any chance either of you have a list of....roadblocks that small, precise teams of elite specialists can handle? My self and Lord....Kentarch, right? Sorry, I'm a bit rough with names, haven't really dealt with this sector much--both would be happy to find way to accelerate the time table, provided the pay-off is worth it--namely, territory and resources, if I were to guess correctly. I'm sure there are others in this room with a similar mindset, but I've yet to see everyone's sabacc cards on the table."
Ash grinned. He was certain that his presumptuousness might be a bit much, but it was keenly obvious that a hit-list of valuable targets would be a damn good deal to the mercenaries in the room. It was also obvious that Kentateuch...Kentaro....damnit, he was gonna have to write that down later. Anyway, the hooded guy was definitely interested in haste over deliberation. So, maybe cutting to the quick would get some of the other players to acknowledge who, in this room, was eager to do some damage.
Or it could just make everyone mad at the weird-looking psycho in a fancy black suit. Hard to work a room when you don't have enough intel.
