[Pre-TL RP] The Deals We Break

[Tetsu]

Location: Corellia, Cornet City

Pomeral hated how clients always kept him waiting. The fishman Mon Calamari sat at the table impatiently waiting for the steward to return. He had brought a sample of his product, a simple blaster with a custom fitted grip and battery pack feed for faster loading and usage. He had personally modified the weapon to be lighter than any competitors weapon, though he did not have the capabilities to mass produces these blasters. His good standing with the Czerka corporation would also serve as a business incentive, the fishman thought to himself as he sat there.

Deals like this always made the Mon Cala nervous. He had been double crossed too many times to count, and his trust was not easily gained. His green mesh jacket hid his grey utility suit underneath. He looked at the drink that had been ordered for him, the clear blue liquid seemed tempting, but all the same he felt it might be best to save the drinking for after the deal had gone according to plan. His wait was suddenly over as a slender young man, accompanied by three armed guards, approached their table with a stride of casual grace.

“Pom Bogbarka I presume,” The fellow said with an aloof tone that made Pom question the boss’s seriousness. “I’m kale Drazt, one of the leaders of the Drazt group…I’m sure you’ve heard of us.” He commented as the fish blinked with annoyance. “Sure…whatever you say, I’m here to offer you a deal from Czerka on their weapon stock…I can only offer medium grade blasters, they’ve been recycled but I think you’ll…” he began as he was cut off by the annoyed fellow. “recycled? No no no, that just will not do.” He expressed as the three guards seemed a bit twitchy at his words. Pom gripped his blaster pistol in its holster with his right hand as he pushed the CZ blaster forward with his left. “That’s not a deal breaker…listen to me, I’ve personally modified these blasters to come fitted with a X2 adjustable scope, side mounted battery pack vent, and custom fitted grips to make them top of the line weapons…” He told the fellow, leaning over the table while feeling the heat of the situation. “I can tell you this much, these weapons would go for just as much, if not more, as a fresh off the belt CZ-XXX1 (Fake weapon). “he told the fellow as he hoped that would pacify them.

“Hmm, I see, so this is a custom job…are all the weapons you have for us like this?” The fellow asked as he pointed the blaster forward as if testing the sight. Pom was uncomfortably in the line of fire as he pulled his pistol from his holster quietly. “look, do you want the blasters or what?” the Mon Cala asked, feeling the chaotic nature of this fellow he was dealing with. Why did he always have to deal with the crazies?

@TWD26

 

[TWD26]

Corellia, his data queries returned a few interesting queries of merit. It seemed that many great pilots had come from the planet, and they say that the infamous and mythological Han Solo was from this planet. The droid had no doubt in his processing units that if he had been around then, that the smuggler would have had a gaping blaster hole through his chest. Analysis: Is this what it feels like to dream? Oh I savor the possibilities of killing legendary organics...for the maker! The droid, clanked through the industrial streets, his blasters drawn in both hands.

It seemed that the core worlds did not take to the brandishing as those within the outer rims. It seems the skinsuits are soft in the core worlds, fascinating. The droid scanned over the signs until he found the markings of the cantina. The tracking fob beeped and whistled, signaling that it was indeed the correct location.

"Get lost gearhead, no droids allowed" A stout Vulptereen bouncer hissed at the door.

The bounty droid's eyes swiveled to focus on the organic, as his cold electronic voice commanded, "You are interfering with official Bondsman Guild duties, such is punishable within official court systems." The droid paused as he raised his blaster, "Independent Analysis: Eliminating a lowly organic such as yourself would provide little gain for me. But, I must state: interfere with my bond and I will score one for the maker."

The bouncer jumped up from his seat, but felt the barrel of the blaster in his gut, "You.." He spat, "Your kind is scum, hurry up and get lost."

The droid pulled the blaster away, and swiveled through the door, responding as he left, "You made the correct assessment."

It seemed the cantina had been decently filled, with various organics from across the galaxy. Many turned to face the limbering droid who approached a table where three men stood. "Statement: Kale Drazt, a mark has been placed on you to the bondsman guild." He raised his blaster rifles, as the glee could be felt through his electronic voice, "Execution with extreme prejudice."

tag: @Tetsu

 

[Tetsu]

Pomeral could see the gangster’s interest in the weapon. Pom has packed a duffle bag of his custom blasters, 5 in total with battery packs, in hopes of striking up a sample deal to moisten the pallet of this underworld wannabe. He grinned with a fishy lipped smile that expressed his joy in selling some more of his merchandise.

“You know what...” Kale said as he put the blaster down. Pom was unsure of how many credits this guy was willing to pay up, but Pomeral would not be content with anything under 2,500 per weapon. “I can do 500 per weapon, for all five.” The scoundrel offered. Pom’s eyelids flickered in rage. “Gah, that’s unacceptable, the price is 2,500 per piece, take it or leave it.” The fish glubbed as he reached for the tabled blaster only to be beaten by the gangster’s quick hand.

“How about this...500 credits and I don’t fry you like a fillet?” He expressed, his eyes twinkling with glee. “Why I, I ought a descale you you Guttlefish lipped sinker.” Her shouted, gripping his pistol tightly in his hand under the table. He was caught in a bad spot for sure, but that was prone to happen when you dealt with low life. He was about to reluctantly accept the offer when suddenly a robotic voice blurted out.

"Statement: Kale Drazt, a mark has been placed on you to the bondsman guild. Execution with extreme prejudice."

The metal bounty droid pointed his blasters at the gangster, and Pomeral could feel the instant tension as his body guards moved between him and the droid. The whole bar seemed to be watching the exchange as the outlaw laughed. “You and what army.” He chuckled as a majority of the bar began to draw blasters of some sort, training them on the droid. The guard had taken the pleasure of taking his weapon bag and distributing the rifles while he had been stuck up. Pomeral held his breath as he waited for the IG droid to make it’s move.

@TWD26

 

[TWD26]

The droid's optical sensors circled around his head, pinpointing the various blasters that had been pointed at his chassis, he was heavily outmatched--precisely the way he preferred such things to go. The thugs attempts at humor did little to affect him, he had not been programmed for such organic interaction. Nor was he capable of feeling fear, it was all algorithmic, "I count twenty five blasters, pointed in my direction..." The droid stood stoic with his blasters still raised. "That is too little I'm afraid."

Out of his chest compartment, a flash grenade would eject into the room, bursting everything in a flash of light and sound. The droid, thinking ahead would power his optical and audio receptors as the blast ejected, leaving him immune to such a tactic. With swift and brutal precision, he would place the barrel of when rifle against one of the stumbling thug's temples before pulling the trigger. His body would shift in a circular motion firing off towards those who stumbled to raise their blasters--eliminating three men in rapid succession.

A bolt would streak across, hitting the droid in the back. The droid would stumble slightly, turning to see the bouncer. The droid hardly thought of anything as he raised his left arm in the direction of the bartender and blowing him away. He would limber and clank to cover behind the bar, as the bounty and the patrons began to wake up from their stumble. A rain of fire would strike all around the bar bench, and the droid had gotten himself into a situation. "Assessment: I have miscalculated the firepower, preparing mandated self-destruct sequencing." He'd respond as a thermal detonator emerged from his chest.
tag: @Tetsu