Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Who Gets The Last Laugh? (Spice Run)

All the arrangements had been made. Barrett was to take a rigged ship set with a different transponder code, a crew of mismatched vagrants who wished to make some money and didn’t care how, and turn all of it into a successful spice run. Simple stuff for the old Barrett, the charismatic, trusting, experienced smuggler, but ever since his last capture he had been hesitant, even a little rusty. This was his chance to get the ball rolling on his career again, that and he needed the paycheck. The contact on Togoria who simply went by “Dr. Luke” wished to buy a kilo of glitterstim from Kessel, likely so he could cut it with something cheaper and make more money. That wasn’t Barrett’s job to dictate what was right or wrong and he figured if you didn’t know what drugs you were buying maybe you shouldn’t buy them in the first place.

There was a call sent out to a few key contacts over the darker corners of the Holo-Net, a call for people skilled in keeping quiet and playing along but not afraid to bark when necessary. It was implied that their bite was to be worse. Haskins was not much of a fighter himself, he was more of a charmer, able to talk himself out of most situations, or at least to a point where someone could get the drop on the officer. The group was to take The Last Laugh, one of Dr. Luke’s personal ships, and fly it to Kessel to pick up the shipment of spice. They would meet little resistance there and would likely be in and out of the spaceport in under a half hour. The hard part was next.

Togoria is one of the last planets to fall to the Republic’s lawful grasp around Hutt Space, so recently many smugglers and dealers have been using it as a base of operations to stop and refuel before jumping through republic space, but recently the law enforcement has been catching on. They have routine ship sweeps on all new incoming vessels and have harsher penalties for smuggling. There was also a patch of Republic space between the two planets that may prove to be interesting. All in all it would take a mix of people from all walks of life to make this work. If everything went well there would be a nice payday for everyone involved.

But how often does everything go well?

Barrett mused behind his glass of signature Corellian Whiskey, a fine suit, and his messy hair. Soon his crew would board The Last Laugh and they would take off.
 

Sigurd Loke

Guest
Sigurd had arrived on Togoria a few days after the initial contact from Haskins, landing his piece of crap starfighter in the nearest port and wandering around a bit before finally finding his point of contact. The planet looked shady enough by most standards, but the presence of a sizable amount of soldiers set off a few red flags.

Wouldn't mother be proud?

Sigurd could only chuckle as the thought popped into his head. His mother, a darling of Corellian Sec For, had kicked him out when he was sixteen, after a string of successful crimes and then one not so successful one that landed him in jail. After that he headed out to the stars, hadn't looked back ever since. A drifter, living from job to job.

Who knew? Maybe this job would open up more opportunities.

Sigurd entered the bay housing the Last Laugh and saw only one well dressed man with a drink. Haskins? Probably. Sigurd wore clothes typical of a spacer, with the exception of a heavy calibered revolver on his hip.

He nodded to Haskins as he approached the vessel.
 
The Corellian smuggler grinned heartily as the first of his comrades arrived. This man seemed to be your typical unassuming lone ranger, likely here because he needed the credits as bad as Haskins did. It was safe to bet that he would like a drink as well, perhaps he even had some cigarettes Barrett could bum, he smoked his last just before boarding and had to wait till Kessel to buy some more. The rapscallion tipped his chair back and propped his legs up on the table in front of him, “Have a drink. My name’s Barrett. I’ll be leading this grand adventure.” He gave a two finger salute with his free hand, and ended with a peace sign before sticking it back in his jacket pocket.

“Did you bring any friends with you? My contact was particularly vague on the other members, mayhap he’s hiding something me thinks?” The smuggler tipped his cup in a cheering fashion. “Nostrovia.” It was a toast he had heard on some backwater planet that meant “to health”. Lord knows they would need it, the Republic was not one to take smuggling spice lightly.

@[member="Sigurd Loke"]
 

Sigurd Loke

Guest
@[member="Barrett Haskins"]

Sigurd looked Haskins over as he poured himself a drink, narrowing his eyes slightly as he did. Hmm.

"Na, no friends, just me." Sigurd said as he took a seat and returned Haskins toast.

"I'm Sigurd by the way." finished after he downed the drink and reclined in the comfortable seat, glancing about the cabin as he did so.
 
“Well,” The smuggler said, kicking his feet off the table in front of him and placing them flat on the ground. “It’s nice to meet you, Sigurd. I’m sure over the course of our little conquest we will get quite close. You familiar with this kind of run? It’s not going to be anything too fancy, but we need to be discrete.” He placed his remnants of a whiskey on the rocks on the desk and took a stand to reach eye level with his employee.

The Corellian stood around six feet tall, a little over with his hair, his willow eyes were soft but that was likely due to the light red shade his complexion took when he was drinking. His gaze was still that of a crime lord, that and a proud Corellian. From a young age he was taught never to lose face, eye contact was key. “So with all this said, welcome aboard The Last Laugh, and make sure you buckle in your belt. It may just be the two of us.”

@[member="Sigurd Loke"]
 

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