Boost Snatch and Grab | ATTN Criminals and Underworld

[Jolly Walker]

Altor 14 | Underground Stashhouse
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Credits must flow.

This was a mantra that Jolly repeated to himself before every raid. A calming exercise, if it could be called that. A bloodthirsty, calming exercise. The pirate could not help but smile.

Standing on the bridge of the Arkonah, he gazed out the viewport as a swarm of TIE/SK starfighters raced towards the desert surface of Altor 14. On the planet's surface, burrowed deep into the ground, was an abandoned Black Sun Syndicate bunker. The criminal organization has long since moved on from the place. However, the lowly and scummy Aima the Hutt quickly seized the opening and transferred his operations to the bunker, just outside the scope of Hutt Space. Many Black Sun Guards defected, joining the Hutt with their personal and resources. A profitable decision. Yet their time was coming to an end.

In a matter of minutes, the TIE/SKs could unleash a massive payload of bombs onto the outer entrance of the bunker. While this took place, the Weequay turned on his heal and began to walk down the deck, making his way to the hangar. On both sides of the Arkonah were two Sepulcher-class Strike Carriers totaling the fleet count to five. An impressive fleet for this kind of operation, but the pirate was not willing to take any chances. Who knows what that Hutt had stored in hidden hangars across the planet. Finally arriving in the hangar, Jolly walked up to a railing on the upper level, staring down upon the crowd of criminals.

"Gentlemen! Ladies! Creatures of the galaxy and scum of the stars!"

With a click of a button, the upper railing the pirate was standing on began to lower, the elevator bringing him down and level with the crew that was gathered. A sinister smile decorated his face. Behind the crowd were three repurposed troop transports, as well multiple crates full of Outlaws and Bandits, free to use. This blow upon the Hutt's operations would be a massive success for the Black Market. More items to sell, more contracts to issue, and more credits to be made.

"We are all gathered here today in the name of credits. No longer is a single cabal in charge of the Underworld. It is time for us to show who owns these stars, once and for all!"

Let the fun begin.

Interested Parties
Ronhar Tane | Kinley Pryse | Mauve du Vain | Darth Strosius | Evan Kade | Lew Ardellian | Rolcor Wildstar | The Lord of Hunger Zev Corrin | V3RM-X | OPEN

Once the thread has been completed, a special factory sub will be awarded for those who participated! ​

 

[Rolcor Wildstar]

Stars stretched into pale lines across the cockpit of the Broken Vow.

Then snapped back into place.

The weathered YT-4800 dropped from hyperspace at the edge of the Altor 14 system, engines settling into their familiar low vibration as the battered freighter coasted forward. Red, white, and grey hull plating caught the distant light, revealing old carbon scoring, mismatched repairs, and enough scars to suggest that whatever had put them there had failed to finish the job.

Rolcor Wildstar sat behind the controls.

He didn't move for a few seconds.

Just watched.

Altor 14 hung ahead of them while contacts began appearing across the tactical display.

Seven immediately filled the cockpit with a stream of Binary.

"I see 'em."

Another series of whistles followed as the astromech began sorting transponder signals and identifying the vessels gathering around Jolly Walker's operation.

Rolcor leaned forward slightly, one hand resting against the console.

"Yeah."

A pause.

"Reckon that's our lot."

Seven gave a doubtful warble.

Rolcor glanced toward the droid.

"Probably."

That didn't appear to reassure him.

From deeper inside the ship came the familiar sounds of the rest of the Vow's crew preparing for whatever came next.

Tallo Nix was already buried in the engineering systems, checking the hyperdrive and power distribution after the jump and undoubtedly discovering three new reasons the ship was about to explode.

Krann Vorga needed no instruction. If this turned into a boarding action, the massive Weequay would be ready.

Gorrik Vass had begun bringing the weapon systems online, the Nosaurian quietly taking stock of the ships around them and anything that might decide the Broken Vow was an easy target.

It wasn't.

Rolcor reached for the comm controls.

"Seven. Give me Walker's frequency."

The droid chirped.

A channel appeared.

Rolcor keyed it open.

His voice went out across the encrypted frequency, low and rough, carrying the faint rasp of someone who had spent too many years breathing recycled air and talking over bad engines.

"Walker."

He let the name hang there for a moment.

"This is Wildstar. Broken Vow."

His eyes moved across the contacts on the tactical display.

"We've just dropped into system."

Another pause.

No unnecessary introduction. No boasts. No attempt to sound impressed by the collection of criminals and hired guns gathering ahead of him.

"Got your people on sensors."

Rolcor leaned back into the pilot's seat.

"Point me where you want the Vow."

His thumb remained on the transmitter for another second.

"And tell your ships we're friendly."

The faintest trace of amusement touched his voice.

"Be unfortunate if somebody got nervous."

The channel closed.

Seven let out a questioning chirp.

Rolcor stared through the cockpit glass toward Jolly Walker's fleet.

"Yeah."

A beat.

"I was being polite."

The Broken Vow continued toward them.

Jolly Walker