How much money can you get while the world ends?

[Vyse de Valorous]

Vyse stands on his ship, pacing back and forth, as he often does when he thinks. He has been in his ship as chaos has taken the galaxy. He knows he needs to do something, but has been unsure as to what.

He wishes he could restore order, but he knows does not have the means to even make a dent in this sea of chaos, so he must think of something else to do as the galaxy falls down around him. And then it hits him, his eyes brighten, the look of finding the answer on his face; With all those people gone, most of the bank accounts in the galaxy must be unguarded, and with there owners gone no one to reclaim them

Vyse now has a goal, the confusion and panic are gone, a fire now burns inside him. But Vyse thinks the question: But, how would I get into the accounts, I am not the best hacker....
Vyse knows what he must do, he goes and sends a coded message to the.....lower levels of society.
The message reads: Hello, if you are reading this message, you must be a person...... with a certain set of skills, I wish to offer the chance to make a lot of money, and I do mean a lot. If you are interested, come to these coordinates, I will be waiting.

 

[Tyro'din]

[member="Lord Vyse"]

Tyro'din sat in his apartment on Nar Shaddaa, taking a break from the dominions his Lord had ordered him on. He was currently sipping the tea he had just made, staring out over the city. He was wearing his usual clothes of a leather tunic, trousers and boots as well as his belt containing many pouches. Off to the side he had a datapad running a scan on a all communications along a frequency commonly used by those populating the lower levels of society. An interesting offer for money eventually caught his attention, "It would seem that someone is attempting to make a name for themselves." He chuckled then pushed his aching body to it's feet and shutting down everything in the apartment before leaving and sealing the place. He headed for the location provided, glad it was on the Smuggler's Moon, the same place he was.


(OOC: Sorry for setting the location as Nar Shaddaa, just seemed the most logical)

 

[Onrai]

Malachor V, Circe Savan's Former Laboratory

Surrounded by the shadows of the Vinithi, their bodies frozen in a stasis that would last for an indeterminate amount of time, she pondered how best to handle the development and creation of the Demilitarized Zone. This farcical ceremony was going to come to an end one way or another, and her method to do such was most certainly going to be innovative. There was only one way in order to acquire the necessary funds, and that way would be to engineer a virus. A very special type of virus, indeed. Semi-sentient, even.

For this virus to work, she would need to initially start with a base, mass-replication code. The answer to that was simple - the personality virus. Though designed for older droid code, with ample modifications, the mass-replication and easy transmission of that virus could be preserved in a standardized package, omitting other sections of the code. It had infected a tremendous amount of droids throughout the galaxy, proving its capabilities.

Next would be a spread. The virus would need to be capable of discovering bank keys. backdoor access routes to accounts. Any way to access the money in question. And once the account was touched... Well, Jentara wasn't someone who enjoyed doing drastic things such as this. In order to weed out the people who had been raptured from the people who had not, and knowing that the first thing one would do in such a traumatic situation would be to check their finances. Any accounts that had not been touched between the virus's creation and the time of the rapture would find themselves targets. Any accounts that had otherwise been touched would be ignored.

Not to mention that Jentara had hope. Hope that this situation would be dealt with and that the people would come back. Acquiring all these funds seemed... wrong. She couldn't leave them penniless, no. Her virus would only take half of the overall funds. Were the individuals to come back, they would be able to sustain themselves on the money.

Now it was time to code some more.

 

[renegade solstice]

Location: Smugglers Moon Spacedock #540-2


Ivy was sent once more to the smugglers moon, the very place she first discovered a powerful ability that manifested within her own sight, a powerful weapon to be used against all whom thought she was nothing but jus a cute face, and a quickie..

The vixen of a blonde strode confidently from her drop ship that this time she had asked for a droid to pilot knowing it wouldn't irritate her, besides.. a droid could always be repaired, and can even pilot a ship with a broken neck, or a missing limb. This day she was focused, and well reserved, but with a more determined look on her face.


Somehow the Silver Jedi thought it would be comical for her to return here, something about them saying "It would benefit you more if you faced off with the demons that seem to control your violent temper, Padawan Pryde" god that so tempted her to even break the neck of the orders more idiotic masters but she didn't, not out of weakness, or lack of soul.. since even they know she doesn't exactly have one.. but out of sheer plausible deniability.


Ivy had always been one to love a good fight, and love to stomp criminal scum into next century. I am sure this moon remembers her from the burned up corpse in a stairwell at the spaceport last time she came here, and the mandhandled miscreant inforchants that had their groins rearranged, but maybe also due to the fact not many wont notice a gorgeous blonde walking arounf the moon the second time she is here. Hell, she knows for a fact she turned alot of heads the first time she arrived.

Striding confidently out of the spaceport she smirks at an unruly thug and continues to walk to the taxi where she will take to the middle levels where supposedly there is an old hermit she has been instructed to meet with, something about this person being capable of purging darkness.. frak that shiz, I will keel 'em if he tries it she comments with a stern malice in her voice.

(will take my time with this, sorry)

 

[Orick T'ane]

Hyperspace was boring when you were on a ship alone, but it was better than the chaos he flew into when he dropped into Nar Shaddaa the day that the galaxy went nuts.

That had been just a day ago, and the smugglers moon hardly felt it. Sure there were hundreds of thousands of people gone, but the credits kept flowing, just as the Hutts demanded it. Profits were insane, everyone was talking about the end of the galaxy. Foolish folks, believing everything they hear on the holo. He had no notion of how or why the galaxy would end, but he didn't figure it wouldn't be like this, a slow weird death. Way I see it, it'll be hot and painful... and hopefully fast. He was walking through one of the many casinos on the planet, waiting for something. His cargo had be unloaded, along with the special extras he has brought. No one was in any hurry to move cargo in the wake of what happened. He was spending his day wandering around the usual spots, looking for any of his old contacts, so far none of them had shown their faces. Maybe they were part of this event, whatever the hell it was.

Maybe I should hit the upper levels, at least the ladies are better looking.