Where Fate Brings Us

[Cacak Tarn]

The Undercity, Nar Shaddaa​

6:44 PM​

​

The Undercity. Not exactly the nicest place in the galaxy - to say the least. Tramps around each corner drinking wine out of a bag and peeing behind dumpsters. Yet I somehow found myself here. With the scent of urine fresh in the air, my crew and I made our way down the streets. I'll tell you right now - you see some sights in this city. It's most certainly different. Let's see... What did we see down those alleys, lads?

At least two brawls.

Quite a few public displays of affection... If you catch me drift.

Don't forget those hobos that tried to sell us deathsticks... And succeeded in Nanno's case...

Aye, and that's just naming a few. Anyway, let's get back to the story.

So, we enter this bar - 'The Dirty Trout'. Sounds like a great place to have a drink right? I was constantly checking for fish scales in my rum - what's even worse is that I actually found a few. By end of it I was too drunk to care - though - or lazy... I can't completely remember.

A few drinks in and this 'guy' - if you can call it that - walks into the bar. That's where it all started...

[member="Darth Abyss"]

 

[Darth Abyss]

"The Dirty Trout". To say that Abyss was disgusted by this hive of degeneracy would be an overstatement. It was far from the first time that he rose from his hideout deep within the smuggler moon, below crime, below the remnants of the Vong infestation, even below the last remains of the what Nar Shaddaa had been before someone build a city on top of it, in search for people that actually found enjoyment in such dirt riddled holes. He wouldn't been able to run a successful criminal operation in the underworld for years if pride or arrogance kept him out of rundown bars and clubs, exactly the places preferred by those criminals, bounty hunters and mercenaries he needed to conduct his business for him.

The second the husk, a hollow set of armor held together by wretched magic and alchemy, stepped into the establishment, many eyes already found their way onto him, even if they tried their best to look the other way. The Prophet, or at least the legends about him and his all knowing, all seeing eye, were common knowledge on worlds like Nar Shaddaa, and each of those legends instilled a mix of fear, uncertainty and begrudging respect that kept the scum and lowlifes from annoying him.

Between his sharp metal teeth rested a pipe in the shape of a dragon's head, the smoke emerging from it, as well as from his empty eyes, vibrant with strange, arcane energy that only further amplified the already terrifying presence of the Mindeater. Ignoring the scoundrels around him he walked straight to the bar, casually dropping a handful credits, probably worth more then the bar itself, in front of the bartender. Then he raised his voice without his mechanical jaw moving once, a twisted, distorted echo that seemed to be not grounded in reality.

"My sources tell me that a talented captain had the misfortune of stumbling in here. Care to point me in the right direction?"

[member="Cacak Tarn"]

 

[Cacak Tarn]

I smiled - in fact I blushed slightly at the compliment that I assume was directed at me. Pfft... Who am I kidding? It was aimed at me.

"I believe that's me." I raised my hand and took another drink of rum "Who's asking? Just so I'm not referring to you as the floating husk that just entered this bar like a badass. I suppose you're a sith, right? Who am I kidding? Of course you are. You just scream darkside magic. Am I right lads?"

For some reason the lads were the quietest they'd ever been. I guess its because they weren't as drunk as I was. To them that thing was actually intimidating - to me it was just a blurred mist with a skull on top.

I rolled my eyes. "Wow... I thought I worked with real men. Grow a few pairs and move along." They moved along and I patted the seat beside me, "Come on, friend. Take a seat. Wait... Can you take a seat? Was that insensitive of me? Damn... Sorry 'bout that. Here, float to the left of me." I let off a smug smile.

[member="Darth Abyss"]

 

[Darth Abyss]

It was like the whole bar held its breath, the silence only broken by the bartender who had dropped the glass he was cleaning when [member="Cacak Tarn"] addressed the Prophet in a way that just screamed for a massacre. Abyss found it to be reasonably enjoyable, making sure to that his next steps looked as menacing as his state of being allowed, which frankly was exponentially more menacing than anything a living, breathing man would've been able to. The empty eye sockets danced over the rest of the crew, the smoke rising from them slowly fading.

At this point all eyes in the bar where on the scene, the fear of the common scum overshadowed by the possibility of witnessing what they had only knew from tales passed on from on drunk to another. Abyss path came to a stop right at the table, and was followed by slight raise of his left hand. In the background he could hear another drunkard spill his drink, as his intoxicated brain clumsily remembered the proverb used by the people that had actually worked for Abyss: "The Prophet's Hand is Endless."

Yet nothing happened. No mind was devoured, no bones shattered and no blood spilled. Instead a nearby chair was pulled into his hand, and neatly placed itself on the table. The husk descended onto it, while his laugh began to fill the room. If you could call it a laugh. The sound was barely comprehensible, a cacophony of jarring noise that made most weak man shiver. Still it was enough to make the bar relax a little, as it became apparent that no gruesome, terrifying act of violently murdering a captain and his crew would happen today.

"I take it that you are Captain Tarn then. They call me the Prophet, a pleasure to meet you."

 

[Cacak Tarn]

Cacak watched as his crew slowly and surely moved further and further away from the husk as he sat there - and quite frankly he was embarrassed. After rolling his eyes oncemore he decided to shrug if off and look up to the husk that was sat on the table.

"Aye. Nice to meet you... Prophet. What can I do for you? Got a problem you want dealt with? You get that means 'Do you want someone killed?' right? Just making sure."

((OOC: Sorry this took so long - and it's so short. Been out all day and it's been a long one.))

[member="Darth Abyss"]

 

[Darth Abyss]

"Despite my head being empty in the most literal of senses, I still do not need you to explain my business to me. Also rest assured that I have no need for someone else to solve my problems."

Despite the rather harsh tone of the words they were followed by the same unsettling laugh then before. To further support his point the husk raised his right, tapping it against his metal skull which created a odd resonating sound that proved that there was truly nothing inside. It had been a while since he had used his strange state of being to amuse his business associates and allies, but that was due to how little time he had spend in dirty bars these last months.

"Yet you are right in that it is a business proposition that brought me here. My organisation is currently finishing up our work on a high end stealth destroyer, Sith Empire technology combined with the wonders of the black market, to support my flasgship. All we need now is a suitable captain, one with the right talents and the right pay grade for such a job."

[member="Cacak Tarn"]

 

[Cacak Tarn]

I raised my brow - y'know... If I had a brow. A proposition from a Sith Lord? I can safely say I've never had one of those before. I didn't know quite what to say. Was he gonna do some Sith Voo-doo on me or something? I can't cope with someone controlling my mind. Besides - they'd want to get straight out anyway. It's a karking mess.

Christ his laugh is killing my head.

"Hmm... So you're asking me to Captain a Stealth Destroyer made by Sith? I'm guessing that means it looks badass - is jet black and just screams 'Get the Kark out of my way you sons of hutts.'? Hell yeah." I took another drink, "How 'high' is this pay?"

[member="Darth Abyss"]

 

[Darth Abyss]

"Most of the ship's core systems are of sith origin, but the current design was created by an organisation loyal to me, and me alone."

Of course the Pirat captain asked straight for his pay, much to Abyss delight. The underworld, in defiance of the chaos that made up the most of it, was predictable. In the end it was always money, always wealth that made the difference, and he had amassed quite a lot in his time running the Chorus. It was likely that amount [member="Cacak Tarn"] would make in a single day of service for the Prophet would be more than he and his crew had ever seen in one place. Piracy was a useful tool, but it paled compared to the credits someone could make by commanding smugglers, dealers and pirates.

"Name your price."

The Husk then leaned back in his chair, watching the reaction of the captain and his crew. It was not common that an employer offered such an opportunity, and simply by observing them, and judging the amount they would say in the end he would be able to get a pretty good impression of how their internal dynamic worked. After all he assumed that Captain Tarn would want to bring his crew with him to serve on the Sunken God.

 

[Cacak Tarn]

Did he just ask me to give my price?

Huhuho! It was perfect. Time to overprice myself.

I smiled - furrowing my brow slightly as I tried to determine whether he was kidding or not. When I came to the conclusion he wasn't - I was secretly ecstatic.

"Mind if I consult with my crew first?"

[member="Darth Abyss"]

 

[Darth Abyss]

"I expected nothing else. Just try to not waste my time."

Abyss still rested in a relaxed position in his chair. Honestly it made no difference, it wasn't like he felt anything anymore, but it was useful to project a the image he had so carefully crafted around himself. He took another drag on his pipe, or at least the closest thing that he was capable off. The Korriban incense burned by itself, set ablaze by the runes engraved on the arcane trinket.

Despite his casual demeanor, his focus was unbroken. This was clearly what he had meant to provoke, and now the skills and personality of Captain [member="Cacak Tarn"] were already put to test.

 

[Cacak Tarn]

I nodded - pulling my men to the side.

"So? What do you think?"

"We can go as high as we want here - Cacak. This is perfect."

"Not really - Jark'in. We must think logically, no one's wealth is infinite. If we go too high it will turn him away."

"Then what do you suggest?"

"Perhaps we should start high - but not too high. Perhaps-..."

"You talk too much - I'm gonna handle in myself."

I nodded, leaving the group and approaching the... Prophet again. Is it just me or is that name really... Cringey? Anyway...

"6 Million - and we get the weekends off."

[member="Darth Abyss"]

 

[Darth Abyss]

They had again done exactly as he expected, and went for a pretty high amount. Or rather [member="Cacak Tarn"] did. It was the mark of a capable captain. He had offered his men a chance to take part in the decision, but once it became apparent that it was of no use he made the final decision himself. Both parts were equally important. A captain that ignored the opinion of his crew wouldn't be a captain, or alive, for verx long, as was one unable to call the shots himself when needed.

"Six Million minus expenses for future repairs that your ship will certainly need. The better you do your job, the more money you get."

It was an easy way to keep the captain and his crew motivated, without using explicit force. Would they fail to do well, then their cut would shrink considerably, as repairing a top notch star destroyer wasn't cheap. Would they do well then they would get all, while the cost he had to pay would stay the same.

"You get any day off when there is no work to do. If there is you work. Understood?"

Finally he raised his right hand, offering it to the captain to seal the deal.

 

[Cacak Tarn]

I smiled - accepting his handshake firmly.

"Deal.. When do we start?"

[member="Darth Abyss"]

 

[Darth Abyss]

"The finishing touches on the Sunken God, as I dubbed your new ship, will still take a week or two if we encounter no new problems on the way. Until then enjoy your retainer."

For a last time the Prophet laughed as he rose from his chair, placing a small pouch filled with at least 50000 credits on the table. Then he allowed his unholy, empty eyes to wander over the crew very slowly, before turning towards the exit, his from still shrouded in arcane smoke.

"Have a drink on me Gentlemen, by decree of the Prophet."

Finishing his exit with another proverb of the Free Cities the sith made his way out of the bar, leaving [member="Cacak Tarn"] and his crew to celebrate, while one of his agents, looking like any other patron of the bar, stayed to further observe them. Better to be safe then sorry.

 

[Cacak Tarn]

I waited until the husk left - then burst out with excitement.

"HOLY POODOO!! Lads... We're going to be karking rich!"

Getting up from my seat - I ran over to the bar and jumped it - searching for bottles upon bottles of liquor.

"Drinks on the Prophet! Hallelujah!"

[member="Darth Abyss"] | FIN