The Road to Hell is paved with Bad Intentions [The Dead Road]

[Darth Abyss]

Lowick

Lowick was pretty much the definition of irrelevant. A world of farmers on near the edge, just a jump away from the great unknown beyond. The Vong invasion was the only somewhat important event it ever had been involved in, and even then it had done not much more than being overtaken by the enemy from another galaxy then their own. But for once being utterly unimportant to the galaxy as a whole made Lowick the perfect world for something. Not for something important, but it was still an upgrade compared to every other day.

Sundown was already over on the wide field, only the slight hum of a ships generator filling the air with sound, and only the lights of said ship breaking through the darkness. Several supply crates had been placed around the ship as makeshift seats for the gathering that was about to take place here.

But what kind of gathering would pick the most backwater place on the most backwater world out there? Easy, a gathering that wanted to avoid anyone with even a sense of self importance joining it. Passing on a message through the underworld directly was close to impossible without a courier, but spreading a rumor was painfully simple. Tell a barkeeper about it, wait until the barkeeper tells it to a spacer, who then tells it to the next barkeeper and then wait a bit longer.

A few days later you had words spread throughout the galaxy, even if details suffered a little with every time the rumor was told another time. Not that it mattered, there wasn't much to learn from the rumor than the fact that a criminal alliance was forming, that they had a very lucrative offer for anyone interested and that they would gather on Lowick. Details would be discussed in person, simply to keep this whole thing as low as possible. Criminals announcing their plans to openly normally didn't lived that long after all.

[member="Lark"] (Also again tagging [member="Serenity Loveheart"] and [member="Thraxis"] in case of interest.)

 

[Lark]

Lowick was not unlike Myrkr, the desolate swampland where Lark spent the early parts of his childhood. Both were covered in dense forests that hid all manner of monsters, Lark had to fend off more than a few number of vornskrs that viewed him as a helpless child, a succulent dinner meal. But whereas Myrkr was neighbor to Mandalore, and was a common hive of criminals, pirates, and gangs, Lowick was an ignored mass of green that isolated itself from the rest of the galaxy. Lark wondered what it would be like to live in a world so separate from the wars and struggles of their celestial neighbors.

And what brought him to such an immaterial planet? Nothing more than a rumor, a whisper that slithered through the galactic underworld like a serpent. Normally Lark did not spend time chasing myths or the wild tales of drug runners, but something about this one seemed to posses a shred of validity. He wasn't sure what struck him about the offer, but he was drawn in by it regardless.

Lark walked into a musty smelling ship, and found a solitary figure standing in a room full of makeshift seats. Either Lark was the first to arrive, or the earliest fool to be conned into showing up. There was something not quite right about the figure, he could sense a dark aura surrounding him. Lark's yellow-orange eyes briefly glazed over with a hellish curiosity, but he concealed the look after a short moment. Lark was sure the man was aware of his arrival. "Hello," he said politely. "Might you be the source of all these whispers?"

[member="Darth Abyss"]

 

[Thraxis]

Lowick? Thraxis had to look it up, scanning for anything of significance but begrudged he had to go. If this one was who he thought, which was quite frankly the man who put him up on snatch the amulet than he might as well go for another pay day, though a single thought the whole time plagued his mind. "What the hell!" Thraxis snapped, his arm drawn along a coffee table, spilling booze and feed all over the floor. A few worried glances as Thraxis complained in the corner of the ship, distracting the Pilot from his job. "Why Lowick!" his hand smashed into the wooden frame, chips of wood cracking and spreading over the floor in his fit of anger. "What Criminal Empire Starts there? What are we going to do!" He screamed, running over to a Weequay with exaggerated motions. The Weequay looked with worry as he watched Thraxis go through a mental breakdown.

"What, we gonna frolick in the salt marshes?!" he said as he started frolicking, the same exaggerated motions still infecting his motion as he danced about from point to point before stopping in the middle. "Oh, I know." sarcastic undertones infiltrating his words as he sat down in the Captain's seat, arms extended as he reeled a hand in circles, his head bobbing back and fourth as his tone quickly snapped to that of some Redneck hillbilly, "We can go fishing in the rivers? Go live a wholesome goddamn life!" He continued his rant before a Gammorean got out of his seat. "Oh, and where are you going exactly?" He inquired, standing up with a bent head.

"Going outside?" The Gammorean responded an arm raised as he pointed out the window. "We landed a couple minutes ago." he continued flatly before proceeding out of the ship, the Cargo door swinging open as Thraxis was left hanging, simply looking at the scenery for a few seconds as he recomposed himself.

"Right... Umm..." He stated as he looked around, he could feel the tension in the room as he looked around, a grin forming across his face, if he could laugh, they could laugh. He out a small chuckle, looking back and forth as the group slowly fell into joyous laughter at his embarrassment. After a few seconds, he waved himself out, letting a sombre tone take place for a little while. "Imma gonna head out, find the contact. You guys go have some fun, explore the scenery. And anyone who brings back a Morello egg gets a secret surprise." He stated, a knowing tap on the nose to confuse the crew as he stridded outside of the ship, giving a pat on the Gammoreans back as he took his Speeder, the Gammorean a little miffed at his speeder being stolen, and knew full well that Thraxis was not to be trusted driving a speeder.

Time past, the humid warmth of a jungle was something he had grown accustomed too, though that wasn't the same for driving. He waded through the low hanging underbrush, leaf litter scattered across his armour as frustrated eyes tried to predict what was ahead, only for mud and gunk to cover his vision. For a brief second it had become clear, he saw his goal, some musty run down ship buried in mud and leaf litter, he let loose a sigh of relief as he pressed down on nothing. His head cocked to the side, looking as the Brake pedal had vanished. "Something feels off..." he stated as he looked ahead, quickly the ship got closer and closer and panic started to set in. He made a quick turn, running the speeder up a rock and crashing it into the tree line above, his form gently sailing down on rocket power, soft bursts allowing him to wade through the air like fish through water. Within a few seconds, he was down, standing outside of some rickety old ship. He peered in, a familiar vision seen, "Oh. Hey Lark. Been a while." whatever malicious tension that could have been formed was quickly going to be washed away by Thraxis presence. Similar to how when someone is stabbed, the life disappears relatively quickly. "So. You the Dark brooding group that left news in the grapevine." He stated, taking a few steps into the ship with a casual stroll.
[member="Lark"] | [member="Darth Abyss"]

 

[Darth Abyss]

"Welcome. I am Darth Abyss, formerly the Prophet of Malachor."

Darth Abyss sat relaxed on one of the crates, a few glasses and a bottle of whiskey standing besides him. He offered a glass to both [member="Lark"] and [member="Thraxis"] before filling up his own. Sure he looked more like a sith Lord than like a common criminal, but in the details it was easy to see how he had fit in into the underworld. Amulets around his neck, a crown on his head and a eccentric wooden mask that obscured his face. Take away the black robe and he might as well could be a pirate captain.

"It is good to see that the promise of wealth still can get people like us to sit at the same table."

He took a sip of his drink, before reaching for one of the numerous datapads stored besides the carte he was sitting on. On them was a very short overview of the plan he had worked out, not in detail but enough to give anyone reading it a general idea of what the Dead Road was about. Again he offered each of them one.

"Details will follow when more have gathered. For now enjoy a drink and take a look. If you already have questions, feel free to ask them."

(Annoyingly tagging anyone in the faction [member="Blackthorne"] [member="Nate the Bounty Hunter"] [member="Lysle of the Hydian Way"] and also [member="Serenity Loveheart"])

 

[Lark]

Lark was consistently amused by how often alcohol brought men together. It was a sign of peace greater than any treaty or armistice. The simple novelty of it's presence was enough to make even the most paranoid man relax a little. Lark took the drink, the datapad as well, and began indulging solely out of courtesy, not because of any desire for alcohol. He greeted [member="Thraxis"] with a smile, taking another sip of his drink. "Pleased to see you're still out and about," he said with a soft chuckle.

Odd as Thraxis could be, he was no fool. If the two of them were both there, surely this couldn't be a trick. He took a seat and looked through the contents of the datapad. He understood some of what it said, talk of hyperlanes and the dying power of the Hutts. "This all seems much grander than I anticipated," he said to [member="Darth Abyss"]. "But I can see the rampant possibilities your plans could offer." Lark mused for a moment, and decided that coming all this way was a favorable decision. "I'm interested to hear what else you have to say."

 

[Thraxis]

Thraxis mentally scoffed. Darth. He wasn't a fan of them. Nor was he a Fan of Jedi Masters. Or... Or Masters in general. He wasn't a fan of Force Users, in general, was the best way to sum it up as he snatched out the bottle of liquor, pulling out of his Duffel Bag, in turn, an empty flask, cooking the lid and out came a putrid stench. The same scent that pestilence and plague left in its path. With liquid slowly filled the container before reaching the summit, just enough to fill the brim before placing the cup back down on the table, putting the flask in his bag for another Day. Thraxis than turned to Lark, a nod of the head in response, "Lark. It almost sounds like you expected me to die." he responded in kind, taking out a seat and sitting down, legs crossed as he dangled his body in a pendulous swing.

He wasn't too phased about the wealth. He was interested in an empire forming, deceit and crime its backbone. Since the Cartel fell who else had risen to take up arms in the name of Villanry? The Underworld? Merely a failed collection of different minds battling between one another for not even a uniform goal. Hell, he tried to think of more yet all else fell flat. Not a single Empire had risen from the Space the Cartel left, not a single man charismatic enough to collect the armies left before him, not a man savage enough to walk through the Galaxy like a King would his land, and no man smart enough to manipulate the masses into rebellion. Was Thraxis any of the above, far from it. A fact of life he had long since accepted. He was at best a Rook in this game of chess. A powerful piece, but no end game piece.

He took a datapad, making a copy and sending it to his crew, might as well have a copy for later. His finger darted up and down the screen, Hyperlanes... Spice Rings... Smuggling... Blah Blah blah. He thought to himself, his head bobbing back and forth as he looked at it from every which way, letting the words sink in. It was everything a Criminal Empire needed, not something with revolutionary ideas, but it had the makings of something powerful. "Right." Thraxis stated as Lark had finished, his legs still swinging himself back and forth as he looked to the Darth, "Who else is coming?" Thraxis inquired, he had said more were to gather and this was the part to make or break. If he had the right gathering of people but each with their own motive, things were going to fall quickly.
[member="Darth Abyss"] | [member="Lark"]