OtherSpace MUSH

Bargain Hunting: That time on Reach of the Empire when IG-88 tried to assassinate Boba Fett…

Merchant District <Ord Mantell>

This seaside city sits on a rugged hill on the shore of a salty harbor, beneath a fruit cocktail sky. A broad street, thick with pedestrian traffic, sidewalk musicians and pickpockets, runs along the hillside, connecting the city’s various districts to the sprawling spaceport facility.

The buildings of the merchant, casino and tavern districts are domed cylinders of different heights and widths. All of them have the appearance of painted and glazed pottery, with ruddy walls ringed by geometric designs.

In the east, barely contained within an encircling metal fence, stands the infamous Ord Mantell junkyard.

R8-0N turns its domed top towards the auctioneer a moment, then back, recording all its scans into its memory banks, its light flicking from blue to red under its optic sensor.

Warlugg turns its beady black eyes towards the auctioneer and seems to consider the item up for bid. The Gamorrean grunts, but doesn’t make any move to bid on the item.

Kron looks at the stuff on the auction block and waits abit, for something that she has her eye on

As absolutely nobody bids on the item, the auctioneer sighs. “Oh, fine! We’ll skip that one. Next up, I have a brace of thermal detonators. Four of them, each one capable of knocking through a ship’s hull or vaporizing a dozen opponents. I’ll start the bidding at a low seven thousand for the set. Can I get seventy-five?”

Bindah Morposs gawks at Rikal. He stands there, unmoving and silent as the cyberneticist raves on about Reward Points and what have you. His jaw works, though this time no secret messages are transmitted; merely the actions of a stunned Aqualish. The shirt is caught in a gust of wind and slips carelessly to the ground. The auction? Ignored for now.

Vadi Solis looks down at a datapad attached to her belt. Had the helmet of her powersuit not been in the way, a frown would be visible. She looks back up to the auctioneer, but makes no move to bid. She evidently does not notice Boba Fett nor IG-88 enter the auction area.

Boba Fett leans against a storefront. He faces the auctioneer, and raises his hand to place a bid.

Warlugg raises its beefy right arm, the one holding the vibro-ax, and shakes it towards the auctioneer while letting out a snort.

With measured, mechanical and purposeful steps, the small hydraulic pistons and electronic servos whirring softly, the assassin droid IG-88 enters the merchant district and swivels its cylindrical head to observe the auction in progress. It activates a sensor suite, scanning the crowd as the droid’s heavy repeating blaster clicks to active – but neutral – mode.

Boba Who? IG-What? Rikal’s never heard of them, and in this sea of pure testosterone and bad-ass-ity, Rikal wouldn’t be able to distinguish them from the rest of ‘that type’ here. Rikal watches his shirt fly away and frowns as it is trampled by the mass of people watching the auction “You never seemed like a wool kinda guy anyway… more cotton. Someone’ll pick it up hopefully. You still got craploads of rewards point. Next time you come in I’ll show you the catalog. Absoutely /fab/ gifts.”

“Seventy five? Seventy six! Do I hear seventy-seven? You’ll not get a better deal than this for these fine specimens of explosive power.” This is the auctioneer’s line, his jowls moving as he speaks into the droid that functions as a mic holder.

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The Conclave: That time on Reach of the Empire when Boba Fett bombed the Bounty Hunters’ Guild.

Hall of Hunters <Bounty Hunters’ Guild: Ord Mantell>

You are standing in a vast vaulted chamber once used for the storage of heavy military equipment. Most of the chamber is dark, but there is a light that shines down from overhead on a wide circle at the chamber’s center. At the center of the circle, under the light, is a crystal obelisk. Around the rim of the circle are statues of the most famous (or infamous) hunters in the history of the Guild. This chamber is used by Guild members for occasional gatherings, where matters of interest to all bounty hunters may be discussed, or Guild members may be disciplined. 

Glassy eyes reflecting the single shaft of light illuminating the obelisk, the Rodian bounty hunter Greedo steps into the Hall of Hunters. His gun is holstered, but within easy reach of his sucker-tipped hand as he approaches the obelisk.

Boba Fett strides into the hall, his helmetted visage sweeping back and forth briefly to take in the surroundings.

Waiting in the Hall, Rio is in a position to observe most of the area. He seems to be trying to keep an eye on everybody who comes by, trying to pick out any of the more famous hunters who have been trickling in.

Boba Fett strides into the center of the room, and the obelisk. He faces it for a moment, his features unreadable behind the mask of his mandalorian armor. At length he turns around, pointedly turning his back on the obelisk.

Bindah Morposs plods out of the armory. He carries a round helm under his arm, revealing his muddy-brown face with its large tusks and four glossy eyes. The Aqualish leans his bulk against a wall, silent as a shadow as he studies the notorious bounty hunter Boba Fett.

Greedo turns his tubular snout so his large, greenish-blue eyes can fix on the hunter in the Mandalorian armor. “You are a disgrace to this Guild, Boba Fett.” 

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Mistaken Identity – That time Greedo went after the wrong guy…

Lobby – Galo Towers <Coronet: Corellia>

The main lobby for the Galo Towers is situated on the first floor from which the ten towers, all white edifices of varying heights bunched together, may be accessed. The room is spacious with maroon carpeting covering white marble floors, seperated by a small solarium and two fountains. The front desk stretches along the south wall where a number of protocol droids are prepared to assist visitors and residents alike. The towers are also guarded by a small CorSec office at the north wall. Most of the first floor is dominated by three high class restaurants and a popular nightclub, while on the far wall a row of lifts are prepared to take people to any of the towers.

Har Sendo stands in the center of the spacious lobby, watching the crowd as they pass. He’s standing alone, watching, mildly disoriented.

Into the lobby of the Galo Towers steps the Rodian bounty hunter, Greedo. His snout twitches and his ears rotate just a bit as he steps off to the right of the front entrance, scanning the crowd with his gleaming blue-green eyes. His suckery, slender fingers hang near the holstered pistol near his hip.

Har Sendo watches the Rodian as he enters the lobby. He frowns slightly, and edges toward cover. He mentally berates himself for travelling so lightly…

Greedo keeps looking around the lobby, watching as people come and go. His head tilts and his snout puckers in frustration as he continues scanning the crowd.

Har Sendo slides behind an old couple, and steps with them for a moment, then behind a large pillar. He grimaces as a small round droid stubs his toe when he isn’t looking. He peers slowly around the pillar to watch the Rodian.

Greedo swivels his ears atop his bristly head as he spies someone he thinks might be his quarry, but then, just as quickly, he loses sight of the Corellian. He draws his pistol from its holster, keeping it at the ready while walking further into the lobby, scanning the crowd for his elusive prey. “Solo is a slippery one.” 

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Conflict In The Clouds: The time it turned out Princess Leia was a Sith…

Port Town (Level 134) <Cloud City: Bespin>

In stark contrast to Cloud City’s pristine appearance on the upper levels, the lower areas known as Port Town are dimly lit due to vandalized lighting fixtures, dirty because of malfunctioning (and stolen) maintenance bots, and generally much more downtrodden than the rest of the city. The population density also appears much higher, as it is on every other corner or bend in the criss-crossing broadways, each of which is wide and tall enough to fit the large cargo sleds and trucks, that there are people talking in some dark alley, trading harsh words in low voices.

The Wing Guard security forces, too, are in sparse supply down here, being seen only occasionally. And that lack has given rise to plenty of unlicensed, unregulated businesses that range from seedy bars and casinos to illicit weapon merchants that smuggle their goods in through Port Town’s many industrial loading docks.

From out of the darkened side alley rolls something round, gray and a little heavy, with a crooked protuberance extending from beneath a pair of dusty goggles: The head of a Kubaz, it rolls to a stop at Roga’s feet. The head appears to have been cleanly severed at the neck, the wound somehow cauterized.

Obi-Wan Kenobi enters the dimly lit area, stopping to look around. “Ah, much better.” he exclaims quietly, heading for the entrance to a tavern.

Roga’s eyes nearly bulge out of his head as he stares down at the head, backing up a few steps. “Whoa.. Uh.. Sir.” He looks at Ben “Hang on a second. We have a problem” Stepping forward a few steps he kneels, looking at the head more closely.

Obi-Wan Kenobi turns his head, arching a silvery eyebrow. “Problem, what kind of problem?” he asks Roga.

Leia steps out of the side alley, drawing a cylinder from her hip and presses a button, causing a crimson light blade to *fzzzzt!* outward from the hilt. She grips it in both hands and smiles tightly as she looks at Obi-Wan. “General Kenobi.” 

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