- Joined
- Feb 11, 2009
- Messages
- 11,769
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Naboo. The world was a stark contrast to Winslow's homeworld of Grizmallt. Whereas Grizmallt roared with the clang and screech of industry, Naboo's pristine air was filled with the cry of avian life and the water teeming with armadas of fish.
The cities of Naboo were far more beautiful as well, and the wide-open plains unmarred by the sight of mechanized agriculture. The people themselves were much more straight-laced as well, with corruption and uncleanliness being much more difficult to spot amongst the colorful throngs of Naboo citizens.
However, it was not the tourism appeal of the world that had brought Sir Johann Winslow and his business partner, Jacob Roseberg, to a long-abandoned homestead in the plains of Naboo.
The Homestead was a typical example of the architectural trends of Theed, with ornately colored concrete walls that had faded and pitted with age, and a domed roof that was similarly worn. It was a two-story structure, and behind it sat the destroyed ruins of a barn of similar construction. The remnants of the barn served as concealment for the drab gray Phoenix Corporation light freighter that had landed there. The corporate logo had been painted over, and the logo of the long-defunct Tricell Corporation stenciled into its place. Likewise, the ship's serial numbers and transponders had been similarly erased, making the ship untraceable.
Winslow stroked his beard as he stood in what was once the living room of the home, examining a stack of rectangular olive drab plasteel weapons crates, each one unmarked and untraceable. In the center of the unfurnished living room sat a folding table, on top of which was a datapad and holographic projector. Thick blankets had been scrounged from the Light Freighter's crew quarters and draped over the windows to keep light out while the holographic projector was active, and it also served to keep out the crisp early afternoon air, which was surprisingly cold.
"Well, that should be everything. Now we just have to wait for the lads from the Sontrebren Crew to arrive." Winslow muttered to himself, as he removed his tophat for a second and ran a gloved hand through his light brown hair, before settling the old-fashioned black hat back atop his head.
Yes, that was the reason he and his partner and good friend were at the abandoned homestead, out in the middle of nowhere. To negotiate an alliance between their corporation and the criminal faction known as the Sontrebren Crew. An alliance that, if Winslow had his way, would be mutually beneficial to both factions.
The cities of Naboo were far more beautiful as well, and the wide-open plains unmarred by the sight of mechanized agriculture. The people themselves were much more straight-laced as well, with corruption and uncleanliness being much more difficult to spot amongst the colorful throngs of Naboo citizens.
However, it was not the tourism appeal of the world that had brought Sir Johann Winslow and his business partner, Jacob Roseberg, to a long-abandoned homestead in the plains of Naboo.
The Homestead was a typical example of the architectural trends of Theed, with ornately colored concrete walls that had faded and pitted with age, and a domed roof that was similarly worn. It was a two-story structure, and behind it sat the destroyed ruins of a barn of similar construction. The remnants of the barn served as concealment for the drab gray Phoenix Corporation light freighter that had landed there. The corporate logo had been painted over, and the logo of the long-defunct Tricell Corporation stenciled into its place. Likewise, the ship's serial numbers and transponders had been similarly erased, making the ship untraceable.
Winslow stroked his beard as he stood in what was once the living room of the home, examining a stack of rectangular olive drab plasteel weapons crates, each one unmarked and untraceable. In the center of the unfurnished living room sat a folding table, on top of which was a datapad and holographic projector. Thick blankets had been scrounged from the Light Freighter's crew quarters and draped over the windows to keep light out while the holographic projector was active, and it also served to keep out the crisp early afternoon air, which was surprisingly cold.
"Well, that should be everything. Now we just have to wait for the lads from the Sontrebren Crew to arrive." Winslow muttered to himself, as he removed his tophat for a second and ran a gloved hand through his light brown hair, before settling the old-fashioned black hat back atop his head.
Yes, that was the reason he and his partner and good friend were at the abandoned homestead, out in the middle of nowhere. To negotiate an alliance between their corporation and the criminal faction known as the Sontrebren Crew. An alliance that, if Winslow had his way, would be mutually beneficial to both factions.