LR/TBH Trading Summit - Printable Version +- Discovery Gaming Community (https://discoverygc.com/forums) +-- Forum: Role-Playing (https://discoverygc.com/forums/forumdisplay.php?fid=9) +--- Forum: Communication Channel (https://discoverygc.com/forums/forumdisplay.php?fid=59) +--- Thread: LR/TBH Trading Summit (/showthread.php?tid=24525)

LR/TBH Trading Summit - Lucend - 08-07-2009 "Are you sure this is where they said it would be?" Juan waited for the response he knew he'd get. "Aye sir. This is it. I've checked and rechecked the navmap logs." "Alright then, fan out and start searching the rocks carefully. If any of you receive so much as a blip, report back immediately. Understood?" Juan heard the resounding 'Si' and watched the three dimensional scanner show the five red dots scatter in all directions. Juan had brought three Titans and two Decurions with him piloting his small Correo Freighter. The other Elders thought this was suicide, thinking he had finally seen his end and wanted to go out with a bang. Nevertheless, Juan knew that bringing in substantial firepower into the heart of Liberty would only mean attracting the attention of the formidable Navy and Security Forces present in the system, as well as the various criminal organizations and the Corsair's longtime rivals, the Outcasts. Finally, a small blip appeared on his navmap and Juan punched the cruise engines. Sure enough, a large rock appeared out of the cloud. The other ships approached the eerie rock and a general hail greeted them, directing the fighters to several docking ports hidden within the bulk of the planetoid. Juan's ship flew over to a larger docking station, and passed the shielding mechanism with a crackle. His ship caught the grip of the antigrav holding device as well as his two Decurion escorts on both sides, floating down to the floor. The Correo let out built-up steam and other harmless exhausts into the docking chamber as the boarding ramp touched the floor of the Rogue base. Two Corsairs with Rhienlandish rifles ran out and stood at attention on either side of the Freighter as another two figures walked casually out. The first was a tall man, lanky with a large red and black robe and a badge worn on the shoulder connection: As his figure came into focus, his eye implant kept swirling around, taking in data on his surroundings. His long (and graying) braided hair waved as he walked down the loading docks and stopped in front of the welcoming crew that had headed down to see what the commotion was about. He still wore his leather and Titanium-clad pirate outfit that the Corsairs had worn for generations, boots clanging under the soft velvet of the robes of the Anciano en Retiro. (A nice way of saying "useless old man") The second man carried a large metallic case and stopped when Juan stopped in front of the three rogues looking on. "I am here to see a man..." Juan paused, his implant swirled around in the socket looking around for traps or hidden soldiers "....named Andrew Mort." LR/TBH Trading Summit - Guest - 08-08-2009 The commotion between the guards, mechanics and other personel was more then thick as they all seemed to be interested who were the new visitors. Needless to say that after a few moments and whispers there were more then half a hundred sidearms pointed at the few Corsairs, even a werewolf heavy fighter, that was about to launch was now more interested to point it's sammaels and razor at the few people...it seemed that not only the Corsairs were in danger but the station as well. There suddenly was a scream and one of the rogues found himself rolling down the metal plated stairs that lead to the docking bay, having been shun from the doorway by a very sleepy looking and unimpressed man. Andrew Mort slowly made his way down from the elevator, down to the main floor of the docking bay, completely ignoring the corsairs till he got to a control panel and pressed a few controls. There was a loud crash as the antigrav pillow under the ship shut down and it's bulk crashed down onto the armored plating of the bay, before it fell to its side with a loud thud and crackle. Mort then looked at the ship, waiting until the cockpit was opened so he could hiss out to the foolish pilot "Noone ****ing opens fire in the cargo bay..." The young pilot who seemed to be barely over 16 cowered and nodded rapidly, knowing that after the small meeting was over he would probably be in trouble. Only up close the few Corsairs could more clearly see the thin man, his frame wasn't too impressive, the old vest and work pants he wore were covered in oil and now the dust and sand that had been kicked up by the large ship landing on the bay, which wast even cleaned for a few years. From the side of his maw dripped blood and he smeared it away with his palm, only causing a bigger mess by now, slowly waling towards his new guests, completely open. He stoped only once he was up close to Juan, the scent of alchahol, ship greace, cheap tabbaco was strong on the tall rogue and his bloodshot, dark eyes looked over the Corsairs like a butcher looked over his newly brought meat to hack. "Welcome....to Buffalo, Corsair...." He finally spoke and gave a sneer, suddenly turning around and roaring out in a loud and rather deep voice, very uncharacteristic to his frame "You ****s can stop aiming now and get back to work, stop wasting air and space!" he murmured something to himself and then turned his head back to Juan, completely ignoring the man with the suitcase as if he wasn't even there. "I was told you had an...opportunity to purpose, which could benefit both of our people, yes?" He chuckled silently, knowing that most of the Rogues weren't people, hungry dogs without a master, ready to tear anyone up just to get their fill. Another grin could actually be heard as the dust that had been kicked up roughly churned between his clenched teeth. LR/TBH Trading Summit - Lucend - 08-08-2009 Juan and Andrew walked through the halls of the hollowed out planetoid. He thought to himself that this base should have been destroyed ages ago, given it's relative size and position in one of the most heavily patrolled areas of space. This pleased Juan even more, if these bloodthirsty men and women could survive in this environment, then he might just have a chance of pulling this off. "This is my assistant, Patro." Juan said as they moved through a large pavilion area and then ducked into a small walkway that led to a room, deep inside the bowels of Buffalo. Andrew didn't seem to care who the other man was. "You will have to forgive my stately dress. I feel, how do you Libertonians say it, overdressed for the occasion?" The trio entered a small room with a metallic table, which the other Corsair dropped the heavy case on. A servant asked them what they wanted to drink. "Water, is fine." Juan whispered, casually. LR/TBH Trading Summit - Guest - 08-08-2009 Sylpheeds office was as dark as usual, only what seemed a very old blood stain which soaked the man's desk lightened up the mood, back when the Phantom had visited Mort, asking for a ship, offering human organs in return. Mort never had bothered o clean up the mess it seemed. As they had walked to the chambers, the two Corsairs were exposed to some particulary interesting sights, like a room which held over half a hundred people behind rusted bars, probably slaves, which waited their next ship for a deluxe trip to Malta. Another room had two young boys in seperate sides of the room, holding switchblades at eachother, Mort had mentioned something about them being best friends, now needing to choose who will live to be a Rogue and who will die. The surroundings were harsh indeed, even the room they were now in reeked of death and one could feel it wasn't like that, before Sylpheed had departed. The man didn't bother to sit down on a chair, instead he slumped against the wall and shook his head at the mention of he clothing. "Pop's always said clothes are needed only to be taken off...with one's teeth, slowly, that is..." He sneered again and shook his head. "Formalities aside, I think this is going to be an odd meeting, considering we do not usually get your people here...the Outcasts down in the bar might not like what they see either, so we had your ships hidden. As much as Hidden can be." he then looked up at Juan, this time his face completely serious "You do realize I cannot gurantee your safety here, you know...not from the Outcasts or the Junkers who do not like you. My Rogues don't really care, 40$ says one is trying to nick something golden off your ship by now, but that won't be a problem, I know almost everything that goes around." He added after a moment, before looking at the woman who had brought them some water. Soon after she left, another one came in with a smile on her face, her clothes shredded and stained with oil as well, a mechanic, her both legs seemed to be metallic by nature, in her hand was a sidearm, pure black, yet it did not shine. "Oi...Mortimer...I got yer gun fixed up, it should work perfectly now." She said and threw him the object which he swiftly caught and before the corsairs could blink, a shot was fired straight into the woman's chest, ripping away some of the rags, unraveling the armored vest beneath. Soon after she got up from the floor, looking shocked, Mort handed the gun back, grinning. "Still alive eh...well then it means you did a lousy job, increase the energy output." He shook his head as she left, it was hard to find a good mechanic and weaponmaster these days. "The place is not usually this busy, my guests. Must be patrolling time in New York, so most of the forces are recalled back to base and badlands."