Prefsbelt Commander
Dr James Carrigan was hauled into the cold, dark room with a sack draped over his head. Several bickering voices could be heard, along with the almost melodic hum of a repulsorlift. Carrigan was forcibly sat down on a chair, and then chained to it, by two mysterious figures. One, which had slimy, reptillian hands, the other, gloved, colder than the frigid air which surrounded them.
A silence sat over the group, "Well, when are we getting paid?" One voice growled, clearly basic wasn't its first language, and evidently, was aggravated.
"All in good time gentlemen." A cool voice replied. It was a strange one. It sounded human-ish. But it had an artificial tone to it. Perhaps it was a recording, or a droid.
"All in good time?" A third voice cried out, another alien one. Not the same as the first judging by accent, although this one more outraged than its counterpart. "We hauled this chutta from halfway across the Galaxy, we were shot at, we were-!"
"Silence." The second voice commanded, shutting down the debate. The repulsorlift became louder, and seemingly circled the chair the good doctor was chained to. There was a pause, and the repulsorlift sound moved away, "I specifically ordered the guest be left unharmed." The voice said. It wasn't angry, but held an edge to it. One which disclosed irritation. Anger.
There was a pause, before the first voice began again, "He fought back. He tried to run during capture, we stopped him." The alien pleaded, "We treated him well, once the tranquilliser went through, he was fine, no problem."
There was no relenting from the voice. "I specifically said, no harm was to come to him. Was that too difficult to understand?" The artificial voice replied. Another pause clung to the air. No one responded, "You gentlemen disappoint me." The voice glowered, "But nonetheless. You've earned your pay." The repulsorlift sound became prominent again, moving away from Carrigan. "Dispense with their payment, captain."
"With pleasure." A fourth voice rang out, this one faraway, in the corner of the room, and distorted beneath some kind of helmet. Within little under a second, the sound of blaster fire reverberated around the room, intermixed with alien screams. There was a silence, and then three dull thuds.
"Bastard!" The second voice cried out, "You karking son of a-!" A lone blaster bolt was shot, and silenced the voice. The smell of roasting flesh now beginning to pollute the air.
"Lieutenant, see to it our guests ship is taken care of." The artificial voice commanded.
"Understood sir." A fifth voice replied, exiting out of what sounded like some kind of blast door.
The repulsorlift sound became louder, and louder, until it stopped, just before Carrigan. A hand reached for the sack, and plucked it from the doctor's head. The first thing James Carrigan would have noticed as the sack was relieved from his head, was the massive, white droid which sat before him. Cloaked in a white, leather-like robe. It held a rank insignia, but what was perhaps most startling was its head. A blue projection of a mans face sat within a black screen. It looked like a man in some environmental protection gear. For a second it looked human, until the repulsorlift began to hum again, as the droid leaned down, unshackling Carrigan.
Behind the droid, three bodies lay. All of which were attired in spacer and mercenary gear. Two Trandoshians, one Mon Calamari. The Calamari's face was distorted, as the water which held the faces consistency was evaporated as the blaster bolt hit his head. His eye and brain tissue sizzled in the dark room, with a plume of smoke blowing an acrid, fleshy smell out of an eye socket.
The droid now stood up, with Carrigan free, and moved backwards, reaching into its cloak, and pulling out a brown roll, and a lighter. "Doctor Carrigan, my apologies." The droid began, "Unfortunately, there could be no loose ends regarding the operation to extract you." The droid informed him, extending a hand, and offering the two amenities, "I do hope that the termination of their employment can bring you some solace."
"It is a pleasure to meet you."
[member="James Carrigan"]
A silence sat over the group, "Well, when are we getting paid?" One voice growled, clearly basic wasn't its first language, and evidently, was aggravated.
"All in good time gentlemen." A cool voice replied. It was a strange one. It sounded human-ish. But it had an artificial tone to it. Perhaps it was a recording, or a droid.
"All in good time?" A third voice cried out, another alien one. Not the same as the first judging by accent, although this one more outraged than its counterpart. "We hauled this chutta from halfway across the Galaxy, we were shot at, we were-!"
"Silence." The second voice commanded, shutting down the debate. The repulsorlift became louder, and seemingly circled the chair the good doctor was chained to. There was a pause, and the repulsorlift sound moved away, "I specifically ordered the guest be left unharmed." The voice said. It wasn't angry, but held an edge to it. One which disclosed irritation. Anger.
There was a pause, before the first voice began again, "He fought back. He tried to run during capture, we stopped him." The alien pleaded, "We treated him well, once the tranquilliser went through, he was fine, no problem."
There was no relenting from the voice. "I specifically said, no harm was to come to him. Was that too difficult to understand?" The artificial voice replied. Another pause clung to the air. No one responded, "You gentlemen disappoint me." The voice glowered, "But nonetheless. You've earned your pay." The repulsorlift sound became prominent again, moving away from Carrigan. "Dispense with their payment, captain."
"With pleasure." A fourth voice rang out, this one faraway, in the corner of the room, and distorted beneath some kind of helmet. Within little under a second, the sound of blaster fire reverberated around the room, intermixed with alien screams. There was a silence, and then three dull thuds.
"Bastard!" The second voice cried out, "You karking son of a-!" A lone blaster bolt was shot, and silenced the voice. The smell of roasting flesh now beginning to pollute the air.
"Lieutenant, see to it our guests ship is taken care of." The artificial voice commanded.
"Understood sir." A fifth voice replied, exiting out of what sounded like some kind of blast door.
The repulsorlift sound became louder, and louder, until it stopped, just before Carrigan. A hand reached for the sack, and plucked it from the doctor's head. The first thing James Carrigan would have noticed as the sack was relieved from his head, was the massive, white droid which sat before him. Cloaked in a white, leather-like robe. It held a rank insignia, but what was perhaps most startling was its head. A blue projection of a mans face sat within a black screen. It looked like a man in some environmental protection gear. For a second it looked human, until the repulsorlift began to hum again, as the droid leaned down, unshackling Carrigan.
Behind the droid, three bodies lay. All of which were attired in spacer and mercenary gear. Two Trandoshians, one Mon Calamari. The Calamari's face was distorted, as the water which held the faces consistency was evaporated as the blaster bolt hit his head. His eye and brain tissue sizzled in the dark room, with a plume of smoke blowing an acrid, fleshy smell out of an eye socket.
The droid now stood up, with Carrigan free, and moved backwards, reaching into its cloak, and pulling out a brown roll, and a lighter. "Doctor Carrigan, my apologies." The droid began, "Unfortunately, there could be no loose ends regarding the operation to extract you." The droid informed him, extending a hand, and offering the two amenities, "I do hope that the termination of their employment can bring you some solace."
"It is a pleasure to meet you."
[member="James Carrigan"]
