Ōz Wiōs
SWRP Writer
- Joined
- Feb 22, 2016
- Messages
- 3
- Reaction score
- 1
The misery of Orvax IV is a millstone upon the soul. Every sound, from the clank of chains to the snap of electrolashes to the piteous wailing of families fragmented forever, wounds the mind. The air itself brings a poisonous assault, saturated with secretions of fear so thick that even the miserable sense of smell cannot help but drown in them.
Not that there are many honest beings on this wretched planet. Their presence is rare, though their mark is everywhere. Once a blighted backwater that spent the bulk of its profits bribing the Sector Rangers to stay away; this horrid world has blossomed amidst the galaxy in secrecy.
Species oppresses species on Orvax IV, but the vast commercial exchange of sentient flesh, and the glittering towers that rise in the upper city, were the result of a decree sealed by many dark hands.
Galactic Decree A-SL-4557.607.232 – a piece of legislation that has touched the lives of billions, yet it lies buried deep in the legal archives. Passed without fanfare or review in the early days of the galaxy, it has no official name.
Supposedly slavery is a violation of law. Officially none of the beings bought, sold, or kept as sentient cattle on Orvax IV are slaves. In the twisted eyes of the law they are prisoners, convicts whose bondage is governed through a variety of ‘cultural exemptions to standard penal codes.’
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0400
Ōz's ship soard into the planets atmosphere. Roaring as it bellowed towards its surface. Carrying an unknown cargo, the shipment was packed full.
Oz took an oath to not question his jobs and he always followed through with it. But ultimately he knew what he was carrying, for he was flying onto Orvax IV. The planet known to thugs and low lives, of all sorts.
As his ship landed into the docking bay security lined its walls as Oz stepped out and made his way to the local bar. For he knew his shipment would take awhile to unload.
The astromech droids lined up amongst the ships personal droid, storage bay. Where the droids too shut down only to await the ships cargo to be fully unloaded.
These were dark times amongst the galaxy. Very dark dark times......
Not that there are many honest beings on this wretched planet. Their presence is rare, though their mark is everywhere. Once a blighted backwater that spent the bulk of its profits bribing the Sector Rangers to stay away; this horrid world has blossomed amidst the galaxy in secrecy.
Species oppresses species on Orvax IV, but the vast commercial exchange of sentient flesh, and the glittering towers that rise in the upper city, were the result of a decree sealed by many dark hands.
Galactic Decree A-SL-4557.607.232 – a piece of legislation that has touched the lives of billions, yet it lies buried deep in the legal archives. Passed without fanfare or review in the early days of the galaxy, it has no official name.
Supposedly slavery is a violation of law. Officially none of the beings bought, sold, or kept as sentient cattle on Orvax IV are slaves. In the twisted eyes of the law they are prisoners, convicts whose bondage is governed through a variety of ‘cultural exemptions to standard penal codes.’
===============================
0400
Ōz's ship soard into the planets atmosphere. Roaring as it bellowed towards its surface. Carrying an unknown cargo, the shipment was packed full.
Oz took an oath to not question his jobs and he always followed through with it. But ultimately he knew what he was carrying, for he was flying onto Orvax IV. The planet known to thugs and low lives, of all sorts.
As his ship landed into the docking bay security lined its walls as Oz stepped out and made his way to the local bar. For he knew his shipment would take awhile to unload.
The astromech droids lined up amongst the ships personal droid, storage bay. Where the droids too shut down only to await the ships cargo to be fully unloaded.
These were dark times amongst the galaxy. Very dark dark times......