:: HERO of KORRIBAN ::
Eric Ryder, agent, spy, intelligence operative, and today that meant smuggler. The spy was assigned to track down a crate, one crate, which contained some very important parts for a new prototype weapon being created. The parts had not made it to the drop off site, nor the agent escorting the crate. Something was wrong, and it was Ric's job to figure it out. Eyes rolled as he sighed. They always sent the single guys on the ones that didn't have a high life expectancy. Eric pulled double on that as unmarried and an orphan. The Rendili didn't mind though. He lived off the adrenaline.
He was outfitted with a tracking device, and started where the crate had last supposedly exchanged hands. Wolport. It was a wretched hive of scum and villany, supposedly the perfect cover, but also a likely place for something to go wrong. The crate had been equipped with a micro tracer, undetectable by the usual methods. All he could hope was that the crate still had it. The signal was taking him to some of the hangar bays, to one in particular. He rolled his eyes. It had never left Wolport.
Running a report, Ric quickly ascertained the owner of the YT-1930 the signal was coming from, and started asking around. It led him to a bar, "The Afterburner." Apparently the owner also had a side business on Wolport, or a main one, who knew? Looking around he spotted the woman playing pool in the corner. She had just sunk a man for his credits, Ric had to be careful.
"So, what's the buy in?"
Ric grabbed a cue stick off the wall, as he slid his leather coat off to reveal his shirt which had been hanging loose of his dark wash jeans. A pair of combat boots finished the ensemble, after all, Ric had just ridden his speeder into town.
[member="Eliza Steele"]
He was outfitted with a tracking device, and started where the crate had last supposedly exchanged hands. Wolport. It was a wretched hive of scum and villany, supposedly the perfect cover, but also a likely place for something to go wrong. The crate had been equipped with a micro tracer, undetectable by the usual methods. All he could hope was that the crate still had it. The signal was taking him to some of the hangar bays, to one in particular. He rolled his eyes. It had never left Wolport.
Running a report, Ric quickly ascertained the owner of the YT-1930 the signal was coming from, and started asking around. It led him to a bar, "The Afterburner." Apparently the owner also had a side business on Wolport, or a main one, who knew? Looking around he spotted the woman playing pool in the corner. She had just sunk a man for his credits, Ric had to be careful.
"So, what's the buy in?"
Ric grabbed a cue stick off the wall, as he slid his leather coat off to reveal his shirt which had been hanging loose of his dark wash jeans. A pair of combat boots finished the ensemble, after all, Ric had just ridden his speeder into town.
[member="Eliza Steele"]