Log:Free Enterprise: Princes Ransom

The team heads out to make some money off a hostage.

OOC Date: June 14, 2018
Location: Socorro
Participants: Ektor, Grishk, Aliraet, The Help, Free Enterprise

On approach, the Socorro System looked much as it always does: perilous asteroid belts with a handful of tramp freighters coming and going from the primary starport. Beneath the harsh red sun and amid the arid black sands, Pun's Cantina weathers the wind and sandstorms with nothing worse than rattling wall panels and the occasional creak of steel girders or clatter of roofing.

Inside are the typical collection of spacers, smugglers, and scavengers, albeit a more sparse crowd than might be expected. Of note, one corner table is occupied by a figure swathed in black, hooded and cloaked, without visible ornament save for a particular flower worn pinned at the left breast, and a small carrying case on the table before it.

Grishk sits clad in his Ubese raider armor across the bar. Having showed up a good while beforehand to observe the transfer hopefully without having to be involved. Instead he seems to be relying on the Free Enterprise's droids to handle the majority of the footwork. Hopefully. Poppet, the hunter trainer enters after a few moments, having observed the outside via the numerous drones it's able to command, and approaches the black hooded figure. "Payment requested, son's location then given." It says towards the being with a flower. meanwhile, bound and gagged about a block away in a currently vacant storefront rests the hostage, guarded by One Eyed Willy, another Hunter/Trainer, whos drones buzz about keeping an eye out for trouble.

Aliraet, for her part, is comfortably ensconced in the cockpit of the Heartbreaker, monitoring... .you know, in case a sudden need for a heavily armed dropship is needed. Not that she doesn't trust those on the ground to be able to handle things, but she's a bit beat up still and not quite up to a possible fight quite yet. Or running around.

It was a strange time. A certain individual had radioed ahead to Grishk, informing him that with the departure of his middleman he was re-establishing connections to the nascent pirate organization in an effort to do business, and that a representative would be joining them during this transfer. The representative him(her?)self was approaching the bar now, clad entirely in D.D.C. Riot Gear, and carrying a long weapons case of his own. His identity? A mystery. His benefactor had made a point of anonymity to Grishk after all.

"Greetings, sentients," said the slightly distorted probably-male voice behind the full face -concealing helmet as he sat next to the Trandoshan at the bar. "My employer has dispatched you to establish rapport, and to demonstrate some of his weaponry if you're interested. You can call me The Help." He laid the case down on the bar, noting the security locks, and watching the exchange in an utterly unfathomable manner.

In communication with the Heartbreaker, a bored Ektor sits in the cockpit of his R-41, in high orbit with active scans sweeping the nearby spacelanes. <<Yanno, most planets are dull from orbit, but a flat black ball of sand redefines the notion.>>

When the thin figure in black turns to face the droid messenger, two things are immediately apparent: first is that it is also a droid, though a humanoid one with a projector screen for a head; second, the face projected on that screen is a female near-human, with pointed ears and a smaller second set of eyes at an upward angle beneath elongated eyebrows. "My client is prepared to make the exchange as agreed upon, pending proof that all goods and persons have been delivered as promised."

"Boy is unharmed." Poppet pulls out a commlink and ques it up for Willy to have the spoiled son of the CEC CEO speak into it for a brief second. "Ship is in the badlands, undamaged. Coordinates to be given upon verification of payment." It states, servos refocusing as it recognizes that it is dealing with another droid. "Open the box." Adding. As Grishk observes and looks over to the armored figure of The Help. "I'm always interested in finding new toys. What do you have?" He asks leaning back a bit in his chair now there were two chests he was interested in seeing the contents of.

Airaet murmurs in a clipped tone, oddly emotionless. "Less places for people to sneak up on you Ektor. So far so good. But keep alert. If I were them I'd try to hit us after we make the transfer."

"My employer," explained The Help (who was secretly his employer Zhu Yan in disguise), applying gloved thumbprints to the locks and twiddling them, "obtains military weapons at dirt-cheap prices for resale." The locks turned green and the weapon case opened, revealing a pristine double-whammy of BlasTech A280 and BlasTech DL-44. "Here are two samples, civil war era, capable of sawing a Stormtrooper in half. Yours, for a reasonable fee." The Help's hidden eyes stared at the droid exchange as he spoke, and his head tilted. "What are the chances that your exchange," this one, or that one? "has been compromised?"

The four-eyed lawyer on the droid's screen arches a long eyebrow. "And the location of the remaining crew? Our agreement was that they shall also be delivered upon payment." That said, the proxy droid does raise a hand to run a dataprobe our of one finger that unlocks and opens the case, revealing precise, even rows of credit chips set into slots in shock absorbent foam. Sienar Corp: only the very finest for your ransoming needs.

<< I hear you, Ali. Scopes are still all clear,>> Ektor drawls, lazily.

Grishk looks at the A280, this figure before him knows the way to the Lizards heart as his eyes clean over the weapon. "Havent seen one of those in a while. Am interested." He replies, glancing over as the droid/lawyer opens the other case. He glances back. "Remains to be seen, I like that A280 though. What are we looking at cost wise?" Adding.

"2 of the crew resisted and were extinguished, a few abandoned ship, the rest are safely aboard, waiting for you to retrieve them. Poppet looks over the credits. "close it and hand over, will have boy delivered. Then ship location revealed." It says.

"Fifty thousand credits, and you walk home with it today," said The Help, his voice buzzing slightly from the modulator under his helmet. He pointed to the front part of the weapon and continued. "My employer also has in his possession the pristine barrel of an A-300 rifle," read, a T4 Barrel, "which is compatible. Sniper-like punch with no downsides, an extra thirty-thousand credits. And, if you want the weapon altered before purchase, my employer can do that too for an additional two thousand credits." He paused for a moment before concluding. "A total of eighty two thousand credits for a weapon that will evaporate a Stormtrooper."

The proxy droid closes the carrying case with a smooth motion- not even the faint whir of a servo, this thing is well maintained- and the case is left upon the table in arm's reach of the pirate automaton. The near-human face on the projector states crisply, "Delivery of the coordinates is expected within fifteen minutes. Beginning now."

Poppet moves to grab the case. "Bringing up its comlink. "Deliver" It radios stepping back a few paces. "Boy will be brought here, I leave when he enters. Datachip with ship location will be given on delivery. ETA 10 minutes." It says. Grishk looks over the A280. "Im definitely interested in both. Will need a few days to handle funding. Keep it on Ice for me, yeah?"

The Help watched the exchange going down warily. His face was not directed at Grishk when he answered. "That I can do. My employer opens lines of credit for good customers." Dramatic pause. "Provided they remain good customers. Don't become Sar Yavok," whether or not the tale of Sar Yavok having his ship yanked out from under him had become common knowledge, it was still a thing that happened, "and you won't have a problem."

The proxy droid displays a distinctly businesslike sentient mannerism of composing both hands on the table in front of it, and dipping its projection screen to mimic a short nod. One finger taps precisely every ten seconds.

As Poppet waits, Willy unblindfolds the youngster and, after both droids have verified the coast seemed clear, begins escourting him to the pub. Meanwhile, Grishk nods to the arms dealer. "I see..Good to know. I will be in contact promptly then" Grishk knew of Sar only from his Pit fight against him and getting beat. An experience to learn from all in all. "May go for it without the barrel attached, kind of considering putting it on something else. High quality barrels are always wanted, so keep me in mind if you come across them."

"Your call," said the masked mysterious maybe malevolent man. Alliteration, yo. He continued to watch the exchange in a space-hawk like manner. "As soon as a credit transfer is confirmed, she's yours. Are any of your men interested in the gun that killed Tobias Beckett?" asked the Help, gesturing to the DL-44 also in the case. "Including this one, there are three for sale at the low rate of thirty-five thousand credits each."

The most notable prisoner, the esteemed Viscount Valin Santhe, is rather less pretty than he had been upon capture. A hangover that had lasted for days, no more alcohol (though he'd whined for it) and going unshaven have done the pompous young man's appearance no favors. Clinging to stained and tattered dignity he is escorted along by Willy, giving a disdainful sniff at the sight of Pun's Cantina before being shown inside.

Poppet waits as the prince is brought in. Willy approaches and puts a datachip in his pocket. "Ship location. Remaining crew aboard safe." Stating through the vocorder before turning to exit with Poppet and the credits. Grishk merely keeps an eye out, waiting for the pair to exit. "You're based out of Nar Shaddaa, right? Will have to hit up the bank, can perhaps set up a deal."

The Help was alternating his attention between the exchange and his own exchange. "Perfectly fine. My employer isn't the type to burn a deal simply because of a financing delay." This employer seemed reasonable and wonderful and an absolutely stand up guy who had women fawning over him despite selling weapons to pirates. "Arrangements can easily be made."

The proxy droid rises to its feet and approaches the unsteady Valin. The viscount mumbles platitudes, "Ah, Miss Drake.. so god to see your lovely face, even if somewhat... detached-" The droid reaches into the pocket and recovers the datachip, the face on the screen ignoring the young man, and stating toward Poppet, "I believe this concludes our business."

The pair of droids exit as the announcement is made, the drones buzzing overhead, weaving through the alleyways. "I'll be in contact then." Pointing to the A280. "That thing looks like a lot of fun." Standing up. "Lets head out so I can grab a smoke and get your contact info setup in my datapad."

"One moment. You've been screwed," said the Help, pulling the DL-44 out of the weapon case at remarkable speed. It was not the most familiar of weapons to the armored man, but it was good enough for purpose. The weapon was immediately brought to bear at eye level and two distinctive BLAM sounds emerged from the DL-44, accompanying two violent red bolts slamming into the head and torso of the proxy droid. Then, and only then, did the diminutive man get to his feet. "Please feel free to test the sample weapon in the event of any additional hostiles," he said, gesturing towards the A280 in the weapons case. "Also, reclaim your hostage because you were never getting paid for today."

As blaster fire erupts, and two bolts reduce the proxy droid to a convulsing heap of durasteel and circuitry, Valin shrieks, "Not again!!" and ducks under a nearby table, hands over his head. No more of the bravado remaining from the first time he encountered the pirates.

To Grishk, relayed from high orbit via the Heartbreaker, Ektor's lazy voice reports with minimal static distortion, <<Ah, not for nothing? A Guardian-class light cruiser just came outta hyperspace and launched a half squadron of TIEs. Prolly a near-system microjump, yeah? They ain't on intercept for nothing yet, but.. Yanno. Now ya know.>>

Aliraet sighs aboard the ship. "Great. Well, I guess I shouldn't be suprised...lets kill some doublecrossing idiots." She growls the last, sounding like she's quite pleasedt o take her aggressions out on something at the moment.

As the Help makes his expert attack at the droid. Grishk merely watches, a bit stunned. His hand going to his hip, but not producing anything as the threat disappeared as fast as it appeared. "Well then. Thank you. Lets get outta here and talk more after." The Trandoshan states as Poppet yells states that more things are approaching. "Grab the Boy, Willy, we're moving" He says. Looking at the smouldering remains of the mysterious helpers victim. "I think our welcome is worn out." Moving to the door. "Gun the engines up, shits heating up down here. Blow that yacht up, fuck it, we got the kid still. I have a plan for him."

The two Hunter Trainers go into action, Willy moving with his stun blaster raised, the other arm grabbing the hostage. Poppet raises his sun blaster arm as he holds the case. "Straight to the ship!"

"I'll bet you ten credits that we've got ground forces incoming," added the Help, pulling the big Riot Shield off his back. Party tank, yo. He fell in behind Grishk and the droids, eyes fully open. "You'll find that the A280 has exceptional stopping power combined with above-par accuracy," he explained, adding his sales pitch to the impending chaos that was about to happen. "Thankfully, we're going to get some live targets for a demonstration."

Aliraet flicks a few switches, the Heartbreaker firings its engines as it starts to descend into the atmosphere. "Ektor, keep the fighters off me. I'm going to go remove a few doublecrossers. And that ship." she says coldly. "Did we leave them tied up? I'll give them a running start to exit..."

Valin protests, "I am *twenty* you reptilian cretin!" feebly kicking at the hunter droid, but only managing to get dragged out from under the table by a foot. The protest notwithstanding, the young Santhe is shoved and prodded along in Poppet's grip.

<<Arright, looks like the light cruiser is going into orbit above the city.. TIEs are going into the atmosphere,>> Ektor notes, adding to the pair of other pirate fighters, <<You heard the Lady, boys; we go in fangs out, yeah? Lead with the missiles, and lemme go in first to pull fire, yeah?>>

Grishk looks over the A280 and smiles as he holds it alert. "Shut up or you get stun batoned again ." Adding as he kicks a bit of sand into the hostages face. "Make for the landing area. Have a ride ready to get us out!" he says moving into a fast sprint, but looks back to see the droids and Yan arent quite keeping pace, well they are carrying more than him, so he slows down as a pair of mercs come into sight. The Trandoshan shoulders the A280 and squeezes off a round, hitting one of the mercenaries. "First shot a hit! I like this gun already."

Grishk adds into the comms "they're tied up in the cargo hold Aliraet, maybe you can just damage it so it has to sit in the desert"

The Help was not a fast man. He was tiny. He was over-encumbered. It's a miracle he hadn't followed the Morrowind Rule of Completely Stopped When At 101 Percent Weight. He was slow AF. He turned and held up his riot shield expecting incoming fire, which he got, but they must have been really stupid individuals because they missed him by a country mile. "Amateurs," he grumbled, aiming the blaster near-blindly around the shield and firing off a wide shot that also missed by a country mile. "Ignore my ineffectial fire, I'm currently tanking shots," he explained, almost-calmly to his Trandoshan buddy of the day.

Aliraet flips on her radio, transmitting directly to the yacht. "Attention expandable staff....your boss fucked up. You've got....oh, about a minute or two then I'm blowing that ship to frellin' pieces. Your choice if you're stil on board when it happens." She flicks the switch off, then powers up the shields and weapons as the Heartbreaker's hull glows redly as it plummets at high speed through the upper atmosphere, descending rapidly straight towards the site.

In the upper atmosphere, a half dozen cutting edge TIE/fo fighters scream through Socorro's skies, on an intercept course for the landed yacht, and picking up an attack vector on the descending Heartbreaker in the process. What looks like an easy kill is complicated by warning claxons in the cockpits as the Sienar Corporation Security pilots are alerted of a missile lock. Two are struck by concussion missiles, a third veers off with only light shield damage, but all the survivors break off pursuit of the shuttle to deal with a trio of unidentified enemy fighters. <<Hahaa.. I love watching them panic. Switching to cannons, your backside is clear, Heartbreaker.>>

Grishk fires again and this time misses wide before he looks back to make sure everyone is still together. The Hunter trainers miss their targets as well and he scowls a bit. "We got this, keep moving." Looking around. "Maybe we hit the alleys!"

"Appreciated...beginning attack run." Aliraet's cool voice comes as she locks both missile tubes on the immobile yacht, aiming for the engines before a pair of concussion warheads roar out of their launchers, spiralling in towards the ship below...

The Help was not a runner. He was not cut out for this sort of thing. His lack of fitness rivaled Hex. The Pillar Men would gaze upon him with shame. Shame. He was moving backwards as well which didn't help. The DL-44 went BLAT and one of the pursuers dropped dead. "Note the power from this gun. Did you know at one point it also had rifle attachments? Also, we almost have numerical advantage."

The Santhe family enforcers on the ground are still in hot and inaccurate pursuit of the fleeing pirates, while the release of magnetic locks within the Shining Ihala has led to a sudden and panicked exodus of surviving servants and bodyguards for whom the black desert is suddenly quite inviting. In the skies, as the Heartbreaker streaks toward its target, the pirate fighters are making up for older equipment with surprise and raw ferocity. Ektor, in the lead R-41, switches to the light laser cannons and rakes across the solar panel and cockpit of one TIE with a sustained stream of fire that chips through shields and detonates the eyeball. <<Three down,>> the Tionese pilot notes, a smile in his voice. The second Starchaser takes a hit that crumbles its shields, but the count of fightercraft in the skies is now even.

Grishk fires again with the rifle, missing again as do the droids, they are both bearing loads though so its explainable. With Yan dropping one of the mercenaries and explaining, the points of the pistol, he smiles a bit. "You're guns are good, my aim is off, still getting use to it, not much practice time so far." Adding as he continues to look around. "If we find an alley we can at least get avoid their fire though and make our way towards the landing pads, sounds like our people in the air are having their own little skirmish."

Aliraet pulls back on the control yoke for the big transport as its nose pulls up, the missiles streaking down to connect with the rear of the yacht as small little dots of people flee over the nearest dune, right as they strike. There's a pair of blue explosions, followed by a much larger one as the yacht's fuel goes up in a massive explosion that tears the ship apart, fire bursting out through the cockpit before the ship disintegrates in a earth-shattering 'kaboom', the transport arcing to the left as it starts to turn back toward sthe fighter fight, ignoring the oncomign speeders and fleeing former crew.

The Help had about had enough of this. Rather than retreating, he backed himself into an alley and shoved the riot shield into the ground. Then he crouched down behind it and looped his arm back into the grip. Two shots were let off around the edge, one landing traction, the other going wide. The shield rocked, one of the corporate samurai had gotten lucky. "Schutta!" he hissed out.

With the explosive death of the Shining Ihala, charred bits of gilt hull plating rain down on black sands for half a kilometer; the speeders veer away suddenly, their objective suddenly gone. The recent prisoners keep running, and as the pirates afoot opt to stand and fight, the ineffective running blaster fight turns abruptly into a bloody face to face shootout. In the skies, Ektor's R-41 jolts violently as his shields collapse, but in turn his cannons take a toll in blood and fire on the enemy craft. As the heavily armed shuttle roars into the fray, weapons blazing, the surviving pair of TIEs veer back toward the orbiting cruiser, swiftly outpacing the older, slower pirate craft.

The Hearbreaker accelerates away from teh burning wreckage as Aliraet punches it, heading back towards the meeting sight. "Yacht's blown to bits.' she says in a grimly satisfied tone. "Coming back to get you boys..."

Grishk shoots yet again, missing. "Alright, time to switch things up." He says, passing the rifle back to Yan just as 2 blaster bolts finally make their mark, hitting him in the leg and chest. The trandoshan roars in pain as he turns back into the alley with 'the help' winding up his ligtning cannon. As the stand is made. "The ship is on the way to get us, we just gotta lose these last ones." Stating the obvious with the last part as the droids finish off the wounded mercenery. After the weapon is wound up he adds. "Here goes nothing." as streams of blood leak from the holes in his Ubese armor.

The Help took back the rifle and nodded grimly. He levelled the rifle and tried his darndest to stayaway from the streaming fire of chaos, landing zero hits in the utter mayhem. The scream from dying soldiers and the sound of footsteps indicated that the last one was running the heck away. "Well, that was exciting," he said, sounding a combination of relieved and excited. Up he stood, picking up his shield, and dusting his knees off. Dirty. "As you can see, in this line of business, your boys need to be well armed. And, for the right price, they can be."

Grishk steps out with the cannon and opens up with it, the weapon made to be vehicle mounted making a loud whine as it spews red bolts down the street, mowing down all of the remainders but one. One of the droids managing to land a pop shot that does little to slow him down as he flees. "I guess I should have opened up with that move." Saying back to Yan. Before looking down to his wounds, then to the Prince, now they will need to pay more money for you and no more meetings, hope your dad loves you." Adding as he turns to start limping towards the meeting area. "I like that A280, need all the good equipment we can get." Saying before looking back to the Hunter Trainers "keep the drones spread as we move, no need for another ambush." He hits the comms to Ali. "Will be there soon, had a run in with a bunch of mercs, Im pretty shot up, we still have the hostage."

The Help had avoided all incoming fire. The one shot that would have hit him dead on hit the polarized anti-blaster surface of the riot shield. Dumb luck. "Well, if you need equipment, you know where to find us." His vernacular was lapsing. Maybe it was the adrenaline. Maybe he was tired. Who knew? Good thing the voice buzz was still there. "Great weapons, great rates."

With a rumble, the massive shadow of the Heartbreaker falls over the meeting area, wings folding to fit more easily into the landing area, as its front ramp lowers bfore Grishk and his prize. "Let's get out of here boys..maybe they'll be more willing to pay of we spread around that they lost their son."

<<Arright, lady and lizard: the light cruiser is starting a descent. Now... it's slow as Grishk in an ice box and all, but we ain't gonna want to be here in a few minutes, yeah?>> Ektor drawls. The slightly battered but still flying trio of pirate fighters circle over the Sentinel-class as Aliraet lands to pick up the boys.

Grishk pauses at the ramp, allowing the droids to board with the case of credits and the hostage first, motioning for Yan to come aboard too. "Lets get out of here, will take you to Nar Shaddaa, we can talk more after I get these holes patched. Not much time till a cruiser is here searching for us anyhow, gotta move, now!" he reiterates before heading up to get treated."

The mysterious masked man was the last up the ramp, scanning for danger all the way. It was only when the ramp was fully closed that he let the tension leave him. "A good plan. Once we're there, I'll contact my employer and we can set up a transaction." It may have been an eventful day, but it was a good day for business.

With a rumble the ship lifted off, wings unfolding as its ramp raised again to lick in place, before it switched from repulsorlift to its main einches, arcing up into the sky rapidly to join the fighters in outrunning the old cruiser in orbit...and vanishing into hyperspace once clear.