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Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos
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The Wheel in the Sky Keeps on Turning (Open)
- Thread starter Gorba the Hutt
- Start date
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#TeamKarsan: Karsan Calnov / Cadmon Geller /[member="Rex Taff"]
The brute had in hand his grenade launcher(in bio), he followed his vod Rex Taff, having a loaded clip of frag rounds. A fellow member of the mandode who garnered his respect at the mandalore tourney. Today the two of them would be assisting Karsan, who was wanted dead by the higher ups in the wheel. These disgusting slum balls were going to be taught a lesson, mandalorians were a big family of warriors. If one being messed with a vod, they had to deal with everyone. Rex encouraged the massive Fett to follow forward the group moving along looking for targets. CIS members and another mandalorian clan were off limits, the entire battle was chaotic, "Just tell me who to shoot, or if you want something blown up!" .
The trained demolition expert loved the idea of this, the space station certainly could handle the explosions should the team of mandos need it. His bucye scanned side to side, looking for massive groups to blow up or exterminate. The blood crazed zabrak smirked underneath his helmet speaking to Karsan , "Lets go get the stupid kether that wants you dead . HAHAHAHAHAHA, COME OUT! WE WANT TO PLAY!" . The athletic specimen banged onto the wall, taunting whoever was after the Bastard of Strider.
The mando fired indiscriminately at the shields his grenade launcher blaring with life as all fifteen grenades went towards their foes. Each impacting the surface causing massive explosions within the casino, the wild explosions shook the area. However thermal detonators went off near them and explosives of the enemies own. The massive titan of a being was out in the open. He flew into a nearby wall from an explosion, weeeeeeeeee, went his body. The giant smacking toward the wall, his armor had protected him as designed, however he would need some time to recover, there would be a massive bruise on his back .
Blaster bolts had hit him as well, those would certainly leave a mark. The toughness of the horned brute was respectable , he took cover underneath a table waiting to recover. If the beast took some damage, certainly they should have to an extent. His yellow eyes looking overhead, the damage causing him to cough blood. Eventually the Fett would have to learn about being more cautious, he may of almost decomissioned himself from the rest of the fight ahead until he was more recovered.
Enemies: Whoever wants a piece of them.
The brute had in hand his grenade launcher(in bio), he followed his vod Rex Taff, having a loaded clip of frag rounds. A fellow member of the mandode who garnered his respect at the mandalore tourney. Today the two of them would be assisting Karsan, who was wanted dead by the higher ups in the wheel. These disgusting slum balls were going to be taught a lesson, mandalorians were a big family of warriors. If one being messed with a vod, they had to deal with everyone. Rex encouraged the massive Fett to follow forward the group moving along looking for targets. CIS members and another mandalorian clan were off limits, the entire battle was chaotic, "Just tell me who to shoot, or if you want something blown up!" .
The trained demolition expert loved the idea of this, the space station certainly could handle the explosions should the team of mandos need it. His bucye scanned side to side, looking for massive groups to blow up or exterminate. The blood crazed zabrak smirked underneath his helmet speaking to Karsan , "Lets go get the stupid kether that wants you dead . HAHAHAHAHAHA, COME OUT! WE WANT TO PLAY!" . The athletic specimen banged onto the wall, taunting whoever was after the Bastard of Strider.
The mando fired indiscriminately at the shields his grenade launcher blaring with life as all fifteen grenades went towards their foes. Each impacting the surface causing massive explosions within the casino, the wild explosions shook the area. However thermal detonators went off near them and explosives of the enemies own. The massive titan of a being was out in the open. He flew into a nearby wall from an explosion, weeeeeeeeee, went his body. The giant smacking toward the wall, his armor had protected him as designed, however he would need some time to recover, there would be a massive bruise on his back .
Blaster bolts had hit him as well, those would certainly leave a mark. The toughness of the horned brute was respectable , he took cover underneath a table waiting to recover. If the beast took some damage, certainly they should have to an extent. His yellow eyes looking overhead, the damage causing him to cough blood. Eventually the Fett would have to learn about being more cautious, he may of almost decomissioned himself from the rest of the fight ahead until he was more recovered.
Enemies: Whoever wants a piece of them.
To boldly alchemize what no one alchemized before
Objective: Slicing
Location: Grand Casino
"Hey, look, it's Admiral Holdo!"
"I'm willing to wager the table minimum that she has family ties with the Holdos of the First Order era"
"I'm Hetzel: I'm driven by the high stakes of high rolling. While I'm not THE Admiral, I'm from her bloodline"
Most of the people playing at Petria's first table were willing to play along with the pink-purpled-haired gambler's charade because they think the rest of the Holdo family was frozen in carbonite by the First Order when Amilyn died in the Raddus ramming the Supremacy at lightspeed, or that bloodline still survived after all these centuries. After the nearby Crimson Casino was placed under lockdown, Petria was a little disconcerted with the ease at which she could win at pazaak, realizing that non-random patterns were emerging in the shuffling of the digital cards while playing pazaak with six other players and one dealer. The table limit was so high she was forced to go all-in on her first game, and that was the table with the lowest limits. However, even her ability to detect non-random patterns in an inadequate random-number generator was not enough to shield her from a few lost games. And she also realized that the dealer wanted her off the table and to graduate to a higher-level table, making a mental note of the table number, hoping that the RNG will be just as inadequate at the higher-level table. Going from a 500-credit table to a 2,000-credit table garnered her quite a bit of attention from the people playing at that table, much like she had at the "lower" table. It took a while to realize that, while each table has its own "seed", or set of seeds, it was still the same faulty RNG at work, just with different seeds and she realized that seeds alone would not provide the answer to the casino's pazaak woes, making significant headway towards her objective but she wasn't quite there.
"Clearly there is something wrong with the random number generators at this casino" she complained to the dealer, who then had security bring her to the administrative offices of the Grand Casino.
Location: Grand Casino
"Hey, look, it's Admiral Holdo!"
"I'm willing to wager the table minimum that she has family ties with the Holdos of the First Order era"
"I'm Hetzel: I'm driven by the high stakes of high rolling. While I'm not THE Admiral, I'm from her bloodline"
Most of the people playing at Petria's first table were willing to play along with the pink-purpled-haired gambler's charade because they think the rest of the Holdo family was frozen in carbonite by the First Order when Amilyn died in the Raddus ramming the Supremacy at lightspeed, or that bloodline still survived after all these centuries. After the nearby Crimson Casino was placed under lockdown, Petria was a little disconcerted with the ease at which she could win at pazaak, realizing that non-random patterns were emerging in the shuffling of the digital cards while playing pazaak with six other players and one dealer. The table limit was so high she was forced to go all-in on her first game, and that was the table with the lowest limits. However, even her ability to detect non-random patterns in an inadequate random-number generator was not enough to shield her from a few lost games. And she also realized that the dealer wanted her off the table and to graduate to a higher-level table, making a mental note of the table number, hoping that the RNG will be just as inadequate at the higher-level table. Going from a 500-credit table to a 2,000-credit table garnered her quite a bit of attention from the people playing at that table, much like she had at the "lower" table. It took a while to realize that, while each table has its own "seed", or set of seeds, it was still the same faulty RNG at work, just with different seeds and she realized that seeds alone would not provide the answer to the casino's pazaak woes, making significant headway towards her objective but she wasn't quite there.
"Clearly there is something wrong with the random number generators at this casino" she complained to the dealer, who then had security bring her to the administrative offices of the Grand Casino.
Arabella Darkhold
Daddy's Princess in Pink
@Anya Malvern | [member="Muad Dib"] | [member="Zesiro"]
"A girl likes to know how to dress Muadie this last minute warrior thing...I could have brought something from home...instead..I'll have to...be mindful." She smiled again. He had this way of making it all seem inconsequential. That was the beauty of it though make it seem like nothing your fear stays away an you can blast anything from the skies...or bury it deep in the ground.
Bella's cobalt blue eyes looked in the direction of the woman Muadie called his daughters. After all this time he still managed to surprise her daughters...that would be three. she couldn't help but smile at him and then to the women, "It is my pleasure to meet you both." She wanted to be sure those that he had identified as family we were welcomed properly and spoken to with respect. As was her usual custom it would be later they would discover that Bella was at times nearly as mad as the madman, given circumstances and need.
But for now she was, "Just call me Bella everyone does" yes this sounded like a fun group a bit of mayhem, a bit of fun, and maybe...well...maybe a stretch of some familiar muscles. As she spoke with the women she noticed Muadie step away, a call, a time to start.
Armored and weaponized that could prove to be ticklish.
hmmm...hot and bothered her earth moving skills would not come in handy here. Bella would have to now choose or combine her sith training with the classes and spells of being a witch. The two were so different and yet flowed in similar directions. She closed her eyes and walked following the sound of Muadie voice and listening to the girls.
Directly above them one of the cable cars she began to draw the force to her for now her sith skills would have to do. Her eyes turned from blue to obsidian. her breathing even out as the force flowed through her, around her, her senses heightened to know where the others stood.
Then she reached out above to the minds above a combination of mind trick - it was force fear combines with illusion she began to weave what he wanted. She reached out to find their minds the very first one that she touched, she took that fear....falling, death in cage.... It would begin with them being uncomfortable, as Bella spread out her arms, she needed to feel fear to instill fear make them feel it.
Bella concentrated, see it, feel it....k n o w i t
"A girl likes to know how to dress Muadie this last minute warrior thing...I could have brought something from home...instead..I'll have to...be mindful." She smiled again. He had this way of making it all seem inconsequential. That was the beauty of it though make it seem like nothing your fear stays away an you can blast anything from the skies...or bury it deep in the ground.
Bella's cobalt blue eyes looked in the direction of the woman Muadie called his daughters. After all this time he still managed to surprise her daughters...that would be three. she couldn't help but smile at him and then to the women, "It is my pleasure to meet you both." She wanted to be sure those that he had identified as family we were welcomed properly and spoken to with respect. As was her usual custom it would be later they would discover that Bella was at times nearly as mad as the madman, given circumstances and need.
But for now she was, "Just call me Bella everyone does" yes this sounded like a fun group a bit of mayhem, a bit of fun, and maybe...well...maybe a stretch of some familiar muscles. As she spoke with the women she noticed Muadie step away, a call, a time to start.
Armored and weaponized that could prove to be ticklish.
hmmm...hot and bothered her earth moving skills would not come in handy here. Bella would have to now choose or combine her sith training with the classes and spells of being a witch. The two were so different and yet flowed in similar directions. She closed her eyes and walked following the sound of Muadie voice and listening to the girls.
Directly above them one of the cable cars she began to draw the force to her for now her sith skills would have to do. Her eyes turned from blue to obsidian. her breathing even out as the force flowed through her, around her, her senses heightened to know where the others stood.
Then she reached out above to the minds above a combination of mind trick - it was force fear combines with illusion she began to weave what he wanted. She reached out to find their minds the very first one that she touched, she took that fear....falling, death in cage.... It would begin with them being uncomfortable, as Bella spread out her arms, she needed to feel fear to instill fear make them feel it.
Bella concentrated, see it, feel it....k n o w i t
Zahori Denko
Game time.
Xristana had received the word to strike, and she did.
A man walked to her, placing his hand on the small of her back. He leaned into her ear and prepared to whisper something to her. Before words could escape his lips, Xristana pierced his throat with a stiletto knife and opened his neck for blood to spill out in front of him onto the bar counter. The bartender screamed in fear as she watched the man be mutilated. He scream was suddenly stifled by Xristana as she used the Force to grab the woman by the throat. The bartender clawed at her throat, trying to break free from the invisible grip, but to no avail. It only took a brief moment before the bartender gave up and died right there. Xristana looked back at the other patrons of the bar as they were frozen by fear. A grin crawled onto her rose colored face. She threw the corpse of the bartender at one of the other patrons, throwing them back into the wall behind them and killing them instantly with the impact alone.
"Run.."
At her command, the remaining patrons of the bar quickly darted out of the place, running for their lives. With a snap of Hircine's fingers, a fire started just behind the counter, quickly spreading as the bottles of alcohol decorating the wall exploded. The flames ripped through the establishment and smoke filled the air. Xristana was unphased by any of it as she walked out of the bar without a single cough. Just a look of determination on her face.
Xristana had received the word to strike, and she did.
A man walked to her, placing his hand on the small of her back. He leaned into her ear and prepared to whisper something to her. Before words could escape his lips, Xristana pierced his throat with a stiletto knife and opened his neck for blood to spill out in front of him onto the bar counter. The bartender screamed in fear as she watched the man be mutilated. He scream was suddenly stifled by Xristana as she used the Force to grab the woman by the throat. The bartender clawed at her throat, trying to break free from the invisible grip, but to no avail. It only took a brief moment before the bartender gave up and died right there. Xristana looked back at the other patrons of the bar as they were frozen by fear. A grin crawled onto her rose colored face. She threw the corpse of the bartender at one of the other patrons, throwing them back into the wall behind them and killing them instantly with the impact alone.
"Run.."
At her command, the remaining patrons of the bar quickly darted out of the place, running for their lives. With a snap of Hircine's fingers, a fire started just behind the counter, quickly spreading as the bottles of alcohol decorating the wall exploded. The flames ripped through the establishment and smoke filled the air. Xristana was unphased by any of it as she walked out of the bar without a single cough. Just a look of determination on her face.
[member="Coratanni Cartel"]
Smeg
Son of Smeg
The Wheel, Crimson Casino > Sewage System
People who share cheese: [member="Bareesh Kajidic"]
People who don't share cheese: [member="Karsan Calnov"] [member="Entye Shysa"] [member="Popo"] [member="Koda Fett"] [member="Ronan Vizsla"]
Smeg was never going to remember all of those names. He just didn't have the mental capacity for it. So many names, so many faces and of course the former Skraal king was far too important to actually remember the names of those outwith his people. Pole, LeStrange, Timmy and Hendrex would just have to forgive him.
“Pleezed to make yur quentenze,” Smeg replied regally with a stiff nod before greedily grabbing the small wheel of cheese, a promise of what was to come. He didn't actually bother introducing his cohorts because his ego didn't allow for that. Also he had mostly forgotten because this was The Smeg Show, after all.
The cheese was waggled before Plod and Sebastian-Chamberlain's faces, a smug expression fixed upon Smeg's rodent features.
“You seez, I told waz cheese! Itz gun be bone apple tea for uz boyz!”
Plod looked annoyed and opened his mouth to argue but then decided that it would have been a total waste of everybody's time. Sebastian-Chamberlain simply stared at the dairy product, his eyes bulging more than should have been possible, everyone likely hoped that they wouldn't fall out. Sebastian-Chamberlain honked.
Of course, the cheese wasn't for Smeg. It was a drug for his people after all. Hallucinations, serious hyperactivity and horrific addiction followed the world of cheese eaters. It would be used to control, not for him to consume. Too smart for the cheese. Of course, other species expected him to fulfil the rodent/cheese dynamic so in what was actually an intelligent move, just embrace the stereotype.
They didn't need to know the power of cheddar.
Speaking of cheese...no wait, I mean stereotypes. Speaking of stereotype, it was true. They were adept sewer dwellers and as a species had been confined to the dank dirty undergrounds of Coruscant, this was their bread and butter, the only possible realm in which they were useful, except in a cannon fodder large numbers sense.
They followed their new friends out of the casino to the back alley and into the sewers, where the pungent nature of the decadence was gone and in its place was the calming aroma of filth. Smeg never could understand why the hairless ones found sewers distasteful.
“We goez, you followz,” said Plod with an air of confidence that could only annoy Smeg, thus prompting him to win a previous discussion.
“Hey, you guyz got da smartz, you tellz my comradez here dat da Wheel iz made of cheeze.”
People who share cheese: [member="Bareesh Kajidic"]
People who don't share cheese: [member="Karsan Calnov"] [member="Entye Shysa"] [member="Popo"] [member="Koda Fett"] [member="Ronan Vizsla"]
Smeg was never going to remember all of those names. He just didn't have the mental capacity for it. So many names, so many faces and of course the former Skraal king was far too important to actually remember the names of those outwith his people. Pole, LeStrange, Timmy and Hendrex would just have to forgive him.
“Pleezed to make yur quentenze,” Smeg replied regally with a stiff nod before greedily grabbing the small wheel of cheese, a promise of what was to come. He didn't actually bother introducing his cohorts because his ego didn't allow for that. Also he had mostly forgotten because this was The Smeg Show, after all.
The cheese was waggled before Plod and Sebastian-Chamberlain's faces, a smug expression fixed upon Smeg's rodent features.
“You seez, I told waz cheese! Itz gun be bone apple tea for uz boyz!”
Plod looked annoyed and opened his mouth to argue but then decided that it would have been a total waste of everybody's time. Sebastian-Chamberlain simply stared at the dairy product, his eyes bulging more than should have been possible, everyone likely hoped that they wouldn't fall out. Sebastian-Chamberlain honked.
Of course, the cheese wasn't for Smeg. It was a drug for his people after all. Hallucinations, serious hyperactivity and horrific addiction followed the world of cheese eaters. It would be used to control, not for him to consume. Too smart for the cheese. Of course, other species expected him to fulfil the rodent/cheese dynamic so in what was actually an intelligent move, just embrace the stereotype.
They didn't need to know the power of cheddar.
Speaking of cheese...no wait, I mean stereotypes. Speaking of stereotype, it was true. They were adept sewer dwellers and as a species had been confined to the dank dirty undergrounds of Coruscant, this was their bread and butter, the only possible realm in which they were useful, except in a cannon fodder large numbers sense.
They followed their new friends out of the casino to the back alley and into the sewers, where the pungent nature of the decadence was gone and in its place was the calming aroma of filth. Smeg never could understand why the hairless ones found sewers distasteful.
“We goez, you followz,” said Plod with an air of confidence that could only annoy Smeg, thus prompting him to win a previous discussion.
“Hey, you guyz got da smartz, you tellz my comradez here dat da Wheel iz made of cheeze.”
Cadmon Geller
Ashes to Ashes
The Wheel, Undetermined Time | Acid Rain
The embrace had been a long time coming, so few of them were left, it was good to finally see his brother again. To put it lightly, Karsan and Cadmon had done a lot of bad chit, more than either of them cared to recount, and they’d done it together. Whatever they were doing now, maybe it was some sort of atonement, some slight tipping of the scales in their lives back towards good, or maybe it was just more violence.He didn’t know, he didn’t care.
As Karsan donned his helmet and made his approach, Cadmon donned one of his own, it’s faceless visage looking onto the casino with indifference, the words ‘Hello Darkness’ ominously appearing across the surface. Opening his coat, he took hold of a carbine slung across his chest and advanced toward the establishment. Of course, then the droid appeared and unleashed hell.
Concentrated energy, rotary cannon, detonators, heavy duty stuff. It didn’t give them a whole lot of time to react, but it gave them enough. Close to his comrade’s side, Cadmon got low as he expected Karsan would too, and activated his personal shield. While meant for a single person, it expanded enough to encompass the both of them as the Hutt’s automation decimated its own establishment.
Not a terribly big shock given the ruthlessness their kind operated with, and the kind of money they possessed, but it was an impressive spectacle, he gave it that. Bold.
With the droid’s opening onslaught concluded, Cadmon racked his mind for some of solution. A blaster carbine and a shotgun weren’t going to cut it, but the hovering sentinel appeared slow, clumsy even. They could outmaneuver this thing, but that became less of a concern as one of Karsan's comrades unleashed a stream of grenades onto the machine.
Nodding to Karsan, Cadmon broke for cover, squeezing off a few blaster bolts at the droid, hoping to distract it from the Mando with the heavy ordinance long enough for him to do some damage.
Allies: [member="Karsan Calnov"], [member="Rex Taff"], [member="Skosk Fett"]
Enemies: [member="Bareesh Kajidic"]
Drill, Baby, Drill
The Wheel,
Sewers! - > Master-Com Systems
"Th-thanks."
As predicted, the Skrall seemed right at home. Their leader said something about cheese.
"Uh," LeFrange began,"I suppose you could say that, yes. Cheese is rotting milk. And once something is born, it immediately begins to rot and decay. So in a way, every living thing is cheese."
"Huh. I guess you could say the Wheel is full of cheese," muttered Jiimi.
"Exactly."
Pauul held up a closed fist, looking down at a handheld display. "We here. Ok. Yuz up, [member="Smeg"]." Farrlo pointed at the sheet of durasteel that made up the right wall of the canal. "Chew away."
Enemies? [member="Koda Fett"] | [member="Entye Shysa"] | [member="Ronan Vizsla"]
Sewers! - > Master-Com Systems
LeFrange, Farrlo, Skrambles, and Zatax picked their way through the horrific stink of the Wheel's sewage system. All sorts of nausea-inducing flotsom squished or, more concerningly, crunched underfoot. Zatax appeared at ease, used to the stench of decay in the swamps of Vodran. The same could not be said for the rest of the party, especially Jiimi, who carried the large backpack of equipment. He slipped in something and almost fell, before Luchy caught his arm."Th-thanks."
As predicted, the Skrall seemed right at home. Their leader said something about cheese.
"Uh," LeFrange began,"I suppose you could say that, yes. Cheese is rotting milk. And once something is born, it immediately begins to rot and decay. So in a way, every living thing is cheese."
"Huh. I guess you could say the Wheel is full of cheese," muttered Jiimi.
"Exactly."
Pauul held up a closed fist, looking down at a handheld display. "We here. Ok. Yuz up, [member="Smeg"]." Farrlo pointed at the sheet of durasteel that made up the right wall of the canal. "Chew away."
Enemies? [member="Koda Fett"] | [member="Entye Shysa"] | [member="Ronan Vizsla"]
To boldly alchemize what no one alchemized before
Objective: Slicing
Location: Grand Casino
"So, Ms. Holdo, I heard that you have been complaining about an inadequate random number generator at the pazaak tables. Do you have a solution to those complaints?" the administrator asked.
"Yes, I can confirm I have the solution to the complaints I've been voicing back at pazaak tables number 7 and 13"
"Now, get to work, and try to fix the inadequate RNGs. Tell me any special requests you might have before you try addressing the RNG complaints"
"Is there a way to send memos over the system once the repairs are over? Probably would be nice to let the staff know of any RNG changes at the card games once they are made"
"Yes, of course"
She knew that, with some card-counting skills, one could, in the long run, win pazaak games with physical cards, with shoe sizes anywhere from 1 to 8 decks. And it was all too reminiscent to her of shuffling that isn't done at the start of a hand. But she knew that casinos on the HoloNet were usually shuffling cards with an infinitely-sized shoe, and also shuffle when the bets are settled. The administrator took a while to enter debug mode, but once debug mode was activated, this is where the fun began for "Hetzel". Calm down, ori'mirshe. I ought to go do code injections first so that I can send a memo reminding them of tax remittance arrears and the procedure to repay them later, but as of right now, they are not suspecting anything since I think the administration couldn't tell what I'm really doing - they have those service contracts for the gambling systems that limit the scope of what the casino admins can and cannot do with the debugging, she thought, while concentrating on performing the code injections necessary to not only fix the RNGs (even though it might lead the gamblers to feel as if they were gambling over the HoloNet, only with the social aspect of being face-to-face with the gamblers), but she had another idea related to tax remittances, to make sure that they would never have to worry about tax remittances from house winnings ever again from the card games. Add a few extra lines about a mechanism forcing them to remit the tax money every time the house made net wins. Especially since the system recorded the winnings or losses from every deal, and also she made sure that the code being injected would actually wire the tax remittance money to a bank account, and also add journal entries in the casino's ledger for the remittance payments as income tax expense.
Location: Grand Casino
"So, Ms. Holdo, I heard that you have been complaining about an inadequate random number generator at the pazaak tables. Do you have a solution to those complaints?" the administrator asked.
"Yes, I can confirm I have the solution to the complaints I've been voicing back at pazaak tables number 7 and 13"
"Now, get to work, and try to fix the inadequate RNGs. Tell me any special requests you might have before you try addressing the RNG complaints"
"Is there a way to send memos over the system once the repairs are over? Probably would be nice to let the staff know of any RNG changes at the card games once they are made"
"Yes, of course"
She knew that, with some card-counting skills, one could, in the long run, win pazaak games with physical cards, with shoe sizes anywhere from 1 to 8 decks. And it was all too reminiscent to her of shuffling that isn't done at the start of a hand. But she knew that casinos on the HoloNet were usually shuffling cards with an infinitely-sized shoe, and also shuffle when the bets are settled. The administrator took a while to enter debug mode, but once debug mode was activated, this is where the fun began for "Hetzel". Calm down, ori'mirshe. I ought to go do code injections first so that I can send a memo reminding them of tax remittance arrears and the procedure to repay them later, but as of right now, they are not suspecting anything since I think the administration couldn't tell what I'm really doing - they have those service contracts for the gambling systems that limit the scope of what the casino admins can and cannot do with the debugging, she thought, while concentrating on performing the code injections necessary to not only fix the RNGs (even though it might lead the gamblers to feel as if they were gambling over the HoloNet, only with the social aspect of being face-to-face with the gamblers), but she had another idea related to tax remittances, to make sure that they would never have to worry about tax remittances from house winnings ever again from the card games. Add a few extra lines about a mechanism forcing them to remit the tax money every time the house made net wins. Especially since the system recorded the winnings or losses from every deal, and also she made sure that the code being injected would actually wire the tax remittance money to a bank account, and also add journal entries in the casino's ledger for the remittance payments as income tax expense.
Smeg
Son of Smeg
Sewers > Master-Com Systems
Those causing Skraal societal issues: [member="Bareesh Kajidic"]
Those who I'm tagging just in case: [member="Karsan Calnov"] [member="Entye Shysa"] [member="Popo"] [member="Koda Fett"] [member="Ronan Vizsla"]
To a ordinary person, with ordinary powers of logic, there was no direct answer about the Wheel being made of cheese, this would have been an unsatisfactory response, of course, that being said an ordinary person wouldn't have asked if the Wheel was made of cheese in the first place. This answer however, was enough for Smeg.
“HA! YOU SEEZ, IT MADE OF CHEEZE!”
It was not for Plod.
A gnarled claw pointed towards Jiimi and then an accusatory one towards Smeg, “NO! You iz not listen! You hearz wat wantz to! He sed full of cheeze, not made ovs! Iz not! You iz liar!”
Smeg was deeply offended by this. What gall! What nerve! Who was he to talk back to the strongest, smartest and smelliest Skraal of them all?! He was nobody! He didn't have a throne back on Coruscant! He didn't have big strong (and super absent) Yuuzhan Vong friends! He had nothing!
Smeg's scabby little hand immediately pointed towards LeFrange in retort, his patchy matted chest puffing out like a constipated pigeon.
“HE SEZ EVERY LIVIN FING IZ CHEEZE! SO DERE!”
“DA WHEEL NOT LIVIN! SMEG, YOU IZ SO STOOPID!”
A silence befell the pair as they stared each other down. No Skraal had ever called Smeg stupid. It was a line that had never been crossed before. Was the balance of power in the world of large rodents shifting? The silence was deafening, only the occasional drip from whatever leaked remained.
Sebastian-Chamberlain honked again, and then dutifully started gnawing upon the durasteel as they had been asked to.
“You iz rite, Seb. We gotz job to do,” said Plod tensely before joining his peculiar brother in their primitive demolition. They may have been stupid, but by the Force, they had some powerful teeth.
For a few moments Smeg stared daggers into the back of Plod's head, his little claws curling into seething child-like fists. He could have ended him right there and then while his back was turned. Alas, he would have to bide his time. Plod would pay for this. Later.
Thus Smeg joined the other two large rodents in gnawing upon the durasteel sheet. It would take a few minutes for the three of them to get through.
Those causing Skraal societal issues: [member="Bareesh Kajidic"]
Those who I'm tagging just in case: [member="Karsan Calnov"] [member="Entye Shysa"] [member="Popo"] [member="Koda Fett"] [member="Ronan Vizsla"]
To a ordinary person, with ordinary powers of logic, there was no direct answer about the Wheel being made of cheese, this would have been an unsatisfactory response, of course, that being said an ordinary person wouldn't have asked if the Wheel was made of cheese in the first place. This answer however, was enough for Smeg.
“HA! YOU SEEZ, IT MADE OF CHEEZE!”
It was not for Plod.
A gnarled claw pointed towards Jiimi and then an accusatory one towards Smeg, “NO! You iz not listen! You hearz wat wantz to! He sed full of cheeze, not made ovs! Iz not! You iz liar!”
Smeg was deeply offended by this. What gall! What nerve! Who was he to talk back to the strongest, smartest and smelliest Skraal of them all?! He was nobody! He didn't have a throne back on Coruscant! He didn't have big strong (and super absent) Yuuzhan Vong friends! He had nothing!
Smeg's scabby little hand immediately pointed towards LeFrange in retort, his patchy matted chest puffing out like a constipated pigeon.
“HE SEZ EVERY LIVIN FING IZ CHEEZE! SO DERE!”
“DA WHEEL NOT LIVIN! SMEG, YOU IZ SO STOOPID!”
A silence befell the pair as they stared each other down. No Skraal had ever called Smeg stupid. It was a line that had never been crossed before. Was the balance of power in the world of large rodents shifting? The silence was deafening, only the occasional drip from whatever leaked remained.
Sebastian-Chamberlain honked again, and then dutifully started gnawing upon the durasteel as they had been asked to.
“You iz rite, Seb. We gotz job to do,” said Plod tensely before joining his peculiar brother in their primitive demolition. They may have been stupid, but by the Force, they had some powerful teeth.
For a few moments Smeg stared daggers into the back of Plod's head, his little claws curling into seething child-like fists. He could have ended him right there and then while his back was turned. Alas, he would have to bide his time. Plod would pay for this. Later.
Thus Smeg joined the other two large rodents in gnawing upon the durasteel sheet. It would take a few minutes for the three of them to get through.
To boldly alchemize what no one alchemized before
Objective: Slicing
Location: Grand Casino
Now, with the code injection made that will henceforth cause them to pay their tax remittance money in real time being complete, the time has come to add in an add-on module that will create daily, official-looking tax remittance receipts acknowledging the payment of said tax remittance money. She knew that tax enforcement was at best guesswork and at worst very lax, but even then she needed to have her bases covered before she could send out the memo to the casino administration telling them of the changes in the RNG and of the improvements in the tax remittance system, so that the casino administration would cease losing sleep about taxation. It is a win-win situation for both parties, really, she thought, while feeling perhaps a little uneasy as to how complaining about inadequate RNGs made the job that much easier, so under the guise of fixing said RNGs, which she actually did with just a few lines of code for the frequency of shuffling and the shoe size, she even had the administrator enter debug mode in her stead. So she scrambled to type the memo for the administrator in question to send it, notifying the rest of the casino personnel about the real-time tax remittances, and then get out of debug mode once that is done.
"So it's over: I fixed the card games' RNGs"
"Thank you, Hetzel. Now, go to the cashier" the administrator told her, while guiding her out of the casino's administrative offices, pointing her in the cashier's direction.
Location: Grand Casino
Now, with the code injection made that will henceforth cause them to pay their tax remittance money in real time being complete, the time has come to add in an add-on module that will create daily, official-looking tax remittance receipts acknowledging the payment of said tax remittance money. She knew that tax enforcement was at best guesswork and at worst very lax, but even then she needed to have her bases covered before she could send out the memo to the casino administration telling them of the changes in the RNG and of the improvements in the tax remittance system, so that the casino administration would cease losing sleep about taxation. It is a win-win situation for both parties, really, she thought, while feeling perhaps a little uneasy as to how complaining about inadequate RNGs made the job that much easier, so under the guise of fixing said RNGs, which she actually did with just a few lines of code for the frequency of shuffling and the shoe size, she even had the administrator enter debug mode in her stead. So she scrambled to type the memo for the administrator in question to send it, notifying the rest of the casino personnel about the real-time tax remittances, and then get out of debug mode once that is done.
"So it's over: I fixed the card games' RNGs"
"Thank you, Hetzel. Now, go to the cashier" the administrator told her, while guiding her out of the casino's administrative offices, pointing her in the cashier's direction.
Karsan Munin
Lost Son
It all happened so quickly- the IA6 droid. He had been briefed on nearly every threat during his role as a Blackblade. He was the bump in the night for the One Sith- they had to know what could bump back. The IA6 didn't just bump back- it could body slam anyone and everyone in it's path. At least- ahead of it.
He was thankful to his compatriot for the quick-reaction, and the shield. He turned his T-shaped face towards him and nodded. Karsan lifted his feet up only slightly, and jetpacked at a diagonal angle, flying into some tables, quickly rolling over them for cover. He couldn't destroy it- not with his current loadout. But he could damage it.
He leveled the shotgun with the vulnerable optical sensors, engaging them with a sharp three shots from his pump-action death machine. The 10 gauge shells flew out of his weapon, heading straight for the droid. His compatriots equally attacked it, and hopefully combined the damage would overwhelm it.
[member="Bareesh Kajidic"] l [member="Cadmon Geller"] l [member="Rex Taff"] l [member="Skosk Fett"]
He was thankful to his compatriot for the quick-reaction, and the shield. He turned his T-shaped face towards him and nodded. Karsan lifted his feet up only slightly, and jetpacked at a diagonal angle, flying into some tables, quickly rolling over them for cover. He couldn't destroy it- not with his current loadout. But he could damage it.
He leveled the shotgun with the vulnerable optical sensors, engaging them with a sharp three shots from his pump-action death machine. The 10 gauge shells flew out of his weapon, heading straight for the droid. His compatriots equally attacked it, and hopefully combined the damage would overwhelm it.
[member="Bareesh Kajidic"] l [member="Cadmon Geller"] l [member="Rex Taff"] l [member="Skosk Fett"]
Ravenfire
King of Pumpkins
With him hidden in the force it didn't take much to pull up a force shield around him. He drop the cloak pissed that someone would use a droid against someone like him and so he pulled all his energy into force lightening against the droid hoping it would either be scrambled or drop the the ground. Then just to make sure he force pushed several chairs into the droid. "Teach your for throwing droids at me, ya karking idiots."
[member="Karsan Calnov"], [member="Skosk Fett"], [member="Bareesh Kajidic"]
To boldly alchemize what no one alchemized before
Objective: Slicing
Location: Grand Casino
"Why?"
"I feel that the cashier guys are out of the loop regarding the changes in the tax remittance regime, because the memo is about how it is going to affect the card game tables. The cashier is also a major component of the casino's accounting, so go tell them about the change in the tax remittance regime"
Of course the cashier wasn't suspecting anything at this point. But, according to the changes she just made, they would have to be informed of any changes to the tax remittance regime. With a bag full of casino chips, gained from wagering at the pazaak tables with the inadequate RNGs, she heads towards the cashier's office. On her way to the cashier's office, she looks back at those clusters of slot machines, unlike other casinos where players would sometimes play on as many slot machines as they had arms thanks to those slot machines being in a row. And also those pazaak tables, which just won't be the same now that the RNGs have been fixed. Half expecting the cashier to be oblivious to any change in the tax remittance regime, she had to be prepared for the three most likely reactions, in any order: meh, anger at the tax collection authorities forcing the automation of the tax remittance process, or joy of not having to worry about tax remittances ever again. But she had to wait in line to do that, just like everyone else wanting to play at the casino:
"Before I cash in those chips, I have something to tell you: the card games are now subject to real-time tax withholding on any money a card game table earns at every deal, after payouts are accounted for. No taxes are withheld on any deal that result in net losses"
"Thank you, I guess" the cashier tells Hetzel, before processing the chips being cashed out, and then handing her a check for the amount of the chips, even though players' earnings are tax-free.
Location: Grand Casino
"Why?"
"I feel that the cashier guys are out of the loop regarding the changes in the tax remittance regime, because the memo is about how it is going to affect the card game tables. The cashier is also a major component of the casino's accounting, so go tell them about the change in the tax remittance regime"
Of course the cashier wasn't suspecting anything at this point. But, according to the changes she just made, they would have to be informed of any changes to the tax remittance regime. With a bag full of casino chips, gained from wagering at the pazaak tables with the inadequate RNGs, she heads towards the cashier's office. On her way to the cashier's office, she looks back at those clusters of slot machines, unlike other casinos where players would sometimes play on as many slot machines as they had arms thanks to those slot machines being in a row. And also those pazaak tables, which just won't be the same now that the RNGs have been fixed. Half expecting the cashier to be oblivious to any change in the tax remittance regime, she had to be prepared for the three most likely reactions, in any order: meh, anger at the tax collection authorities forcing the automation of the tax remittance process, or joy of not having to worry about tax remittances ever again. But she had to wait in line to do that, just like everyone else wanting to play at the casino:
"Before I cash in those chips, I have something to tell you: the card games are now subject to real-time tax withholding on any money a card game table earns at every deal, after payouts are accounted for. No taxes are withheld on any deal that result in net losses"
"Thank you, I guess" the cashier tells Hetzel, before processing the chips being cashed out, and then handing her a check for the amount of the chips, even though players' earnings are tax-free.
Drill, Baby, Drill
The Wheel
Master-Com Systems
LeFrange eyed the standoff between the Skrall. The last thing he wanted was to be caught in the middle of a brawl between giant rats whose teeth could chew through durasteel. Thankfully, the rebel in the group seemed to stand down and Smeg & Co. started chewing away.
It only took a few minutes, then the durasteel wall was rent open and they were staring into a room full of circuit boards, gizmos, and whatnots. A face suddenly appeared in the hole. Pauul palmed his pistol and fired. A silenced, invisible blaster bolt slagged the face. LeFrange grimaced as melted flesh and bubbling blood scattered everywhere. Zatax stepped forward and hauled the body through the hole, dumping in the sewer, then climbed inside.
"Nice work, Smeg." LeFrange flashed the rodent a rogue's grin, then followed the rest of his crew.
They stood inside a small room, with a hallway leading into a much larger room. There were so many data terminals and important-looking circuitboards (LeFrange assumed they were circuitboards, he didn't actually know what one looked like) that Luchy did not know where to start.
Jiimi did.
The Arcona pointed to a particular terminal. "That's it."
"That's it?"
"That's it."
Pauul's antennae twitched. "Looks small."
Jiimi shrugged, then moved over to the terminal, swinging off his backpack. "It'll take me a bit to upload the virus. Give me room to work."
"Yuz got it."
[member="Popo"] | [member="Smeg"]
The lightning though, the lightning engulfed the droid and it let out a high pitched, mournful wail. Angry that the organics had somehow survived its onslaught unscathed. Sad that it had failed to complete its only directive.
"Exeeeecuuuuute?"
With its dying gasp, the droid's composite laser beam sliced out and carved through two support pillars. Then the droid's repulsorlifts failed and it fell to the ground with a loud clang, circuitry fried to a crisp.
The casino rumbled, then the roof caved in, potentially burying [member="Karsan Calnov"], [member="Rex Taff"], [member="Skosk Fett"], and [member="Cadmon Geller"] in the rubble.
Master-Com Systems
LeFrange eyed the standoff between the Skrall. The last thing he wanted was to be caught in the middle of a brawl between giant rats whose teeth could chew through durasteel. Thankfully, the rebel in the group seemed to stand down and Smeg & Co. started chewing away.
It only took a few minutes, then the durasteel wall was rent open and they were staring into a room full of circuit boards, gizmos, and whatnots. A face suddenly appeared in the hole. Pauul palmed his pistol and fired. A silenced, invisible blaster bolt slagged the face. LeFrange grimaced as melted flesh and bubbling blood scattered everywhere. Zatax stepped forward and hauled the body through the hole, dumping in the sewer, then climbed inside.
"Nice work, Smeg." LeFrange flashed the rodent a rogue's grin, then followed the rest of his crew.
They stood inside a small room, with a hallway leading into a much larger room. There were so many data terminals and important-looking circuitboards (LeFrange assumed they were circuitboards, he didn't actually know what one looked like) that Luchy did not know where to start.
Jiimi did.
The Arcona pointed to a particular terminal. "That's it."
"That's it?"
"That's it."
Pauul's antennae twitched. "Looks small."
Jiimi shrugged, then moved over to the terminal, swinging off his backpack. "It'll take me a bit to upload the virus. Give me room to work."
"Yuz got it."
[member="Popo"] | [member="Smeg"]
* * *
The Crimson Casino
(or what is left of it)
Grenades hurtled through the air, slamming against the TA6's shields and exploding. The shield sucked up the explosions, but promptly failed as a result. Karsan's shotgun rounds sprayed out from the smoldering wreckage of the casino, hitting the droid and taking out one of its three eyes and a grenade launcher, but failing to penetrate deep enough to destroy the central processing unit. The lightning though, the lightning engulfed the droid and it let out a high pitched, mournful wail. Angry that the organics had somehow survived its onslaught unscathed. Sad that it had failed to complete its only directive.
"Exeeeecuuuuute?"
With its dying gasp, the droid's composite laser beam sliced out and carved through two support pillars. Then the droid's repulsorlifts failed and it fell to the ground with a loud clang, circuitry fried to a crisp.
The casino rumbled, then the roof caved in, potentially burying [member="Karsan Calnov"], [member="Rex Taff"], [member="Skosk Fett"], and [member="Cadmon Geller"] in the rubble.
Karsan Munin
Lost Son
The impact of the falling casino, nearly crushed Karsan- it damaged his jetpack and nearly concussed him, if it wasn't for the impact-absorbing features of his helmet. His visor was cracked- after all, no there wasn't exactly a way to make Beskar see-through. Ballistic glass could only stand so much. Karsan pushed the hunk of rubble off of him, sitting up amidst the crowd of onlookers that had gathered after the firefight at the casino. After all, who would be as so bold to attack the casino- or better yet, the criminal hub.
Karsan could not see his compatriots, and screamed in contempt. In anger. In rage. He ripped the broken, spurting jetpack from his person and threw it towards the dead droid. He slowly rose to a stand, brushing the dust off of him. The skull shown through the cloud of dust and debris, the memento mori that it was.
He walked slowly, each step painful and measured. He'd be fine, given a few moments of respite- but if he wasn't going to give his enemies any, why should he get any? The logic wasn't exactly wrong, just arrogant.
He lifted his helmet up and stared into one of the surviving cameras. He held the shotgun tightly with one hand, and beat his muscular chest with the other.
"I'm still coming! You hear me? I'm still coming! You wanted me dead, you're gonna have to work on it!"
He pulled his helmet down and checked on his compatriots, walking over the rubble and calling for them to find his voice.
[member="Rex Taff"] l [member="Skosk Fett"] l [member="Cadmon Geller"] l [member="Bareesh Kajidic"]
Karsan could not see his compatriots, and screamed in contempt. In anger. In rage. He ripped the broken, spurting jetpack from his person and threw it towards the dead droid. He slowly rose to a stand, brushing the dust off of him. The skull shown through the cloud of dust and debris, the memento mori that it was.
He walked slowly, each step painful and measured. He'd be fine, given a few moments of respite- but if he wasn't going to give his enemies any, why should he get any? The logic wasn't exactly wrong, just arrogant.
He lifted his helmet up and stared into one of the surviving cameras. He held the shotgun tightly with one hand, and beat his muscular chest with the other.
"I'm still coming! You hear me? I'm still coming! You wanted me dead, you're gonna have to work on it!"
He pulled his helmet down and checked on his compatriots, walking over the rubble and calling for them to find his voice.
[member="Rex Taff"] l [member="Skosk Fett"] l [member="Cadmon Geller"] l [member="Bareesh Kajidic"]
Lysle of the Hydian Way
Silent and Violent
"Do you trust them, boss?" one of his little birds asked Lysle Rigger. The Crime Lord of the former Red Raven Syndicate was strolling along the footpath outside his casino on Neos. Garbed in the finest cloth and silk suit his endless wealth could afford. His hair cut to laser precision, his face clean shaven. His gray eyes like daggers seemed to pierce the veil of those around him, the masks his flock wore. He saw their true selves, their true intents. Greed, for the most part. Some had more satiable desires... narcotics or women, often both.
"Of course I don't trust them," Lysle said with a manner of disgusted dismissal, as if the suggestion that he trusted another criminal was an insult. Although he did not trust the Hutts, the Wheel was a valuable asset to The Mirage. The offer was tempting but he could not imagine the Cartels going through with such a deal as handing it over to him, and if they did it would not be without crippling levies against him. Perhaps he could manipulate the chaos for his own gain. Take the wheel for himself, entirely.
"Call up Julian Valentine, and contact Svel. Get the gang together. Have them meet me by Jidiqai Spaceport and we'll take my ship." Lysle was about to walk back towards the entrance when he stopped and said, "Oh, and see if you can contact [member="Jen"], and check out if [member="Isaac Ideus"] is still at his usual drinking pond." He gave his men a firm nod and moved back into the cool interior of the casino.
| [member="Gorba the Hutt"] |
Smeg
Son of Smeg
The Wheel
Master-Com Systems
People who shared cheese: [member="Bareesh Kajidic"]
People who haven't shared cheese: [member="Popo"]
With that, their job was technically done. They probably could have left at this point and the gang would have polished up the much more complex jobs. Was there any reason for the Skraal to hang about? Would there be any reward? No. Not likely. Still they followed the gang inside of the magical computer room.
However Smeg was oh-so determined to obtain the Wheel of cheese, moreso now in the face of Plod's defiance. The young pretender.
“Iz no problem, boss,” Smeg replied smugly as he puffed out his chest seeing as he had been named in specific praise. Not Plod, not Sebastian-Chamberlain. This was the Smeg show, and all other Skraal can wait in line for the admiration.
“We goez now,” Plod declared suddenly, as if he lived to play contrary to every one of Smeg's decisions, or at least that's what it seemed like in the former-Filth King's head.
“Noez. We stayz. How else we getz da Wheel?”
Plod looked mildly exasperated by this, he knew deep down in his rodent soul that he would never convince Smeg that the Wheel was not made of cheese, he was too up his own bum to believe the words of any of his people.
“Dey not gun givez to uz, you knowz.”
Sebastian-Chamberlain was drooling in the corner.
“Dat iz very rudez to sinuate. You gun offendz our friendz!” Smeg retorted suddenly, sounding as if he had been deeply wounded by such things.
Plod snapped.
“Diz whyz peepul turnz againzt you! You carez aboutz upworlderz more dan you carez about Skraal! Smeg want big frienz so he can feel bigz too!”
It was a fair claim, being that it was entirely true. Smeg had an ego, and it needed to be sated. No other Skraal around him had been elevated and included by the big and smart races before. He had been embraced by Tsavong! Chosen even! One time he had even been invited to the Vong's apartment to hang out! He was better! And the big people were the better choice!
“Youze a liar! YOU JUZ JELLUS OV SMEG'S GIRTH!”
Master-Com Systems
People who shared cheese: [member="Bareesh Kajidic"]
People who haven't shared cheese: [member="Popo"]
With that, their job was technically done. They probably could have left at this point and the gang would have polished up the much more complex jobs. Was there any reason for the Skraal to hang about? Would there be any reward? No. Not likely. Still they followed the gang inside of the magical computer room.
However Smeg was oh-so determined to obtain the Wheel of cheese, moreso now in the face of Plod's defiance. The young pretender.
“Iz no problem, boss,” Smeg replied smugly as he puffed out his chest seeing as he had been named in specific praise. Not Plod, not Sebastian-Chamberlain. This was the Smeg show, and all other Skraal can wait in line for the admiration.
“We goez now,” Plod declared suddenly, as if he lived to play contrary to every one of Smeg's decisions, or at least that's what it seemed like in the former-Filth King's head.
“Noez. We stayz. How else we getz da Wheel?”
Plod looked mildly exasperated by this, he knew deep down in his rodent soul that he would never convince Smeg that the Wheel was not made of cheese, he was too up his own bum to believe the words of any of his people.
“Dey not gun givez to uz, you knowz.”
Sebastian-Chamberlain was drooling in the corner.
“Dat iz very rudez to sinuate. You gun offendz our friendz!” Smeg retorted suddenly, sounding as if he had been deeply wounded by such things.
Plod snapped.
“Diz whyz peepul turnz againzt you! You carez aboutz upworlderz more dan you carez about Skraal! Smeg want big frienz so he can feel bigz too!”
It was a fair claim, being that it was entirely true. Smeg had an ego, and it needed to be sated. No other Skraal around him had been elevated and included by the big and smart races before. He had been embraced by Tsavong! Chosen even! One time he had even been invited to the Vong's apartment to hang out! He was better! And the big people were the better choice!
“Youze a liar! YOU JUZ JELLUS OV SMEG'S GIRTH!”
Simone was more than a little peeved.
For one, she could feel another migraine creeping its way across her skull. A present given to her by [member="Itash Mecetti"] and his little whore, [member="Cassandra Paige"], a side effect of their torture. Doc told her it would get better in time but she should avoid things that might trigger them....like computer screens or flashing lights. Because that was something a slicer could do.
For another, someone was interrupting her business. She was on the Wheel to collect payment from Tenloss. Less time staring at a screen. That had been the plan at least, but it seemed someone else had bigger ideas for the days events. She tugged a pill pot from the inside of her jacket, tipping a couple into her palm and popped them into her mouth, washing them down with the water on the table next to her.
Alcohol was a big no no with these pain killers. The pot disappeared again, replaced by a silver lighter as she drew a cigarette from her front pocket. The zeltron drew long and hard against the cigarette, releasing the silver smoke in a long stream that curled in the air, creating delicate patterns around the beskar clad hutts.
"Just another day in paradise, hey Popo?" she commented as the sound of disruptor fire filled her ears.
Still...despite her foul mood she was intrigued to see how the Wheels systems would cope. Call it professional intrigue.
"Are we safe here?" she asked.
[member="Popo"]
For one, she could feel another migraine creeping its way across her skull. A present given to her by [member="Itash Mecetti"] and his little whore, [member="Cassandra Paige"], a side effect of their torture. Doc told her it would get better in time but she should avoid things that might trigger them....like computer screens or flashing lights. Because that was something a slicer could do.
For another, someone was interrupting her business. She was on the Wheel to collect payment from Tenloss. Less time staring at a screen. That had been the plan at least, but it seemed someone else had bigger ideas for the days events. She tugged a pill pot from the inside of her jacket, tipping a couple into her palm and popped them into her mouth, washing them down with the water on the table next to her.
Alcohol was a big no no with these pain killers. The pot disappeared again, replaced by a silver lighter as she drew a cigarette from her front pocket. The zeltron drew long and hard against the cigarette, releasing the silver smoke in a long stream that curled in the air, creating delicate patterns around the beskar clad hutts.
"Just another day in paradise, hey Popo?" she commented as the sound of disruptor fire filled her ears.
Still...despite her foul mood she was intrigued to see how the Wheels systems would cope. Call it professional intrigue.
"Are we safe here?" she asked.
[member="Popo"]