- Joined
- Apr 24, 2008
- Messages
- 14,785
- Reaction score
- 7
Hax walked into pne of his favorite cantinas for a meet and greet, it was located in a dock block, that is to say a block of buildings used as spacedocks for private ships, providing quick access to his getaway, being away from his baby made him nervous anyway. This of course, was all well and good and he was in the mid sec section of coruscants underbelly, which was also good.
There was a business, you see to smuggling. A Union if you will. Some people were part of it knowingly, providing, moving and purchasing goods that were otherwise outlawed, much like Hax himself, and the person he was here to meet, a cat girl, apparently. Then there were those like the bartender here, the owner of the fine estate who simply took a nice tip, usually in the ammount of credits Hax was even now laying down for him to look the other way. The bartender knew the basic idea of what went down in his establishment, giving a knowing wink as Hax ordered his favorite tatooine style spiced rum. But he didn't know the exacts. He didn't ask questions and that was how he liked it. Plausible deniability.
Then of course there were those who knew nothing at all, simply taking credits that went into bank accounts, to purchase food, new boots, that then went into boosting the economy of a given area substantially, sometimes in cases like Nar Shadaa even on a planetary scale. These people know nothing at all of the high percentage of money they get in their pay checks for doing honest work is funded by dishonest means and bloats the economy.
That was the beauty of the Union, as Hax affectionately called it as did several other smugglers. These thoughts crossed his mind as he took his rum and found a seat in the darker corner of the room and waited for his contact to arrive.
There was a business, you see to smuggling. A Union if you will. Some people were part of it knowingly, providing, moving and purchasing goods that were otherwise outlawed, much like Hax himself, and the person he was here to meet, a cat girl, apparently. Then there were those like the bartender here, the owner of the fine estate who simply took a nice tip, usually in the ammount of credits Hax was even now laying down for him to look the other way. The bartender knew the basic idea of what went down in his establishment, giving a knowing wink as Hax ordered his favorite tatooine style spiced rum. But he didn't know the exacts. He didn't ask questions and that was how he liked it. Plausible deniability.
Then of course there were those who knew nothing at all, simply taking credits that went into bank accounts, to purchase food, new boots, that then went into boosting the economy of a given area substantially, sometimes in cases like Nar Shadaa even on a planetary scale. These people know nothing at all of the high percentage of money they get in their pay checks for doing honest work is funded by dishonest means and bloats the economy.
That was the beauty of the Union, as Hax affectionately called it as did several other smugglers. These thoughts crossed his mind as he took his rum and found a seat in the darker corner of the room and waited for his contact to arrive.