The Pens of Niverton - Printable Version

The Pens of Niverton - Printable Version

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The Pens of Niverton - ryeguy146 - 06-11-2010

The Pens of Niverton
The Meeting

Clif strolled down an isle of the Niverton slave pens. Ignored the string of excuses that poured from the Keeper's mouth, he instead noted empty cages as he passed them. "Too many," he said quietly.

The Keeper asks, "What's that, Underboss?"

Clif rounded on the Keeper and shoved him up against the nearest cell wall. "There are too many empty pens, you sniveling puke," he snarled into the man's face. Clif wasn't often prone to violent outbursts, but lately, paranoia had been getting the best of him. Stepping back, he let the man crumple and left him stuttering more excuses.

Something had to be done about this. Sylpheed had warned him that the increased demand for slaves was going to overtax supply. And it was by his command that Clif was here now. He had ideas, the usual ways, but he decided to call up the rest of the crew to see if anything more efficient came up.

Clif boarded Beggar's Behest, and called up the neural net. He sent out messages to those he wanted to attend his meeting, and where. They were to meet at Niverton to see the problem for themselves, and to discuss ideas. Something had to be done. He exhaled heavily and powered up the engines, setting a course back to Alcatraz.

The Pens of Niverton - Shagohad - 06-11-2010

The ugly Barghest spluttered and coughed. The Use Psychology was not that bad or unreliable of a ship, it's just that pilot was off-his-ass drunk. It did a spiraling decent towards Alcatraz, course correcting every now and then. On her sleek, pointed hull was painted a rampaging Clydesdale, it's hooves ablaze and a bloodshot look in its eyes.

"This be Smiggs. I's wants to docks!" The rather portly ex-Molly sat at the helm, his head rolling about on his shoulders. On his head sat a cardboard pirate hat, with the words "U R SPESHUL" printed on the front in red letters.

With or without docking rights, Smiggs awaited a Hyena to line up with the ports, the docking doors opening slowly. He hit the afterburner, sending the hundred-odd ton slab of ship into the bay at full speed. As he came down, he deployed the brakes, scorching the deck and coming down with a crash.

The Pens of Niverton - Rodent - 06-11-2010

The Rogue network, while not the sleekest of ones, buzzes with activity. Transports going in, and out, and in, and out, with escorts, some destined to return, some not. Nothing of the sort for the Grunting Donut though, one of the rare Rogue Transports with a perfect smuggling record. Amplified by the fact that the crew was an all girl one.

The Donut quietly docked into Niverton's bay, through months of practice and fine-tuning, the sequence was perfected. Soon it's crew emerged one by one, and last, the captain, Diana Hughes, member of Sylpheed's Rogues, walked out, handling her hair. She looked around, then made it a point to go to the lounge to have a few drinks.

The Pens of Niverton - BrotherBear - 06-11-2010

Brown is snoozing heavily in his chair, around him his crew continue to watch the lanes connecting Philadelphia Station and the New York jumpgate. So far they had been there for hours, and not had a single nibble. The crew were getting restless, but they dare not wake their captain.

Suddenly a loud beeping noise filled the cockpit, rousing the captain from his slumber.

'Ugh,' he muttered, sleepily. 'What's all this noise about?'

'Incoming message,' replied his first mate. 'From Clif sir.'

'This had better be good.' Brown muttered to himself, as he prepared to playback the transmission.

Shaking the sleep from his eyes, Brown proceeded to read the message.

'Niverton eh?' he muttered to himself. 'Set course for Niverton immediately!' he barked suddenly. 'And avoid that damned debris! I don't want my paint scratched!'

[color=#0000aa]Brown watched as his crew hastened to follow his orders. As the sound of the LR-Cold.Fangs cruise engines warmed up, he drifted back to sleep.

The Pens of Niverton - ryeguy146 - 06-15-2010

As each Rogue arrived, the Keeper or one of his assistants met them and silently ushered them down the lines of cells. Most empty, but still the halls rang with their wails and crying. Their questions were ignored, and after the Rogues were allowed to inspect the pens, they were led to the meeting.

The door opens and admits the Rogues into a small space with a dingy old wood table in the center. Despite it's age and condition, it was probably worth a fortune. One doesn't just get a table made of real wood anywhere. At the head of the table sat Clif, joint in his mouth and a datapad in his busy hands.

After waiting some time, Clif realized that three Rogues was the best he was going to get. He stood and addressed the gathering. Smiggs, Diana, and David were all that were going to show.

"I do be fairly sure that yer lil' stroll down our alley of woes did clue ya in to the nature of this lil' meeting. Everybody be wantin' a hand in the trade these days. Our acquisition of labour can barely keep up with Danny and his smuggling wing," Clif cursed his fellow Underboss for not showing up to help him. "And now we're sellin' to non-Rogues who want to try their hand. Them pens can't support it boys, and it seems that we're the ones that gonna fix it."

Clif allowed the implications to sink in. There'd be some work in it, but each of the Rogues would be rewarded for their role. Most likely the only reason that the dogs were here, but it was enough.

"Curacao. I'm wantin' each of ya ta increase presence in Cortez. I want ships at Montezuma, available to hit the lines. If any of you three are wantin' an extra boat for the task, let me know. I'm suggesting the Bactrian for it's hold and firepower. I'll pay twenty million into it, if it's kept at Montezuma. Why? Tourism. All them rich folk that be visitin' the paradise planet be perfect for our needs. They're soft, and Orbital Spa & Cruise are our new marks. I want us to hit them with everything we've got."

"Anyone you take, bring them to any Rogue base for processing. They'll be shipped off'ta Niverton," Clif gestured around him. "Now, Rogues, I want some ideas. Who's gonna help us fix this problem of ours?" He looked at each of the three Rogues in turn and waited.

The Pens of Niverton - BrotherBear - 06-15-2010

Smiggs, Diana, and David were quiet. Clif kept looking at each of their faces in turn, hoping that one of them had an idea he could use. Disappointment etched his face, as he prepared to steel himself for the worst.

'Not one of you have an idea?' he asked.

'There might be one thing we can do Clif.' David replied.

'Let's here it then ma boy!' Clif exclaimed, happy at last that someone had thought of something.

'Ok, so what I'm thinking is this; we set a trap.' David said. 'There's a Hacker base in Ontario right? We could get those hackers to get into the Toronto Stations systems, and broadcast a message to Bretonia. Say something lucrative, which will bring in some tourists to Ontario through Cortez'.

[color=#0000aa] While Clif thought it over, David remained still and waited.

The Pens of Niverton - ryeguy146 - 06-24-2010

Clif nodded his head as David spoke, but paid more attention to his neural net datapad. Amidst plans, one that was about to come to fruition. He had been contacted by a Vagrant Raider, one Scotty Hill, about some potential workers. During the meeting, he had sent orders to Cortez for the Stockholm Syndrome to meet up with Hill at Alcatraz to pickup the cargo and to drop them off at Niverton. Clif tapped his foot as David's idea tapered off, but his thoughts were on the expected arrival.

"So, what do you think?" David asked.

It jarred Clif's thought process, and he wrinkled his face in frustration. From what he had picked up from David's idea, it sounded like something that he had already considered, the question, was how?

"Simply brilliant as always. But how ya figure we're gonna go 'bout this? A frakkin' ad campaign? We still have tourists goin'ta Curacao, we just need'a capitalize. That's why I want those bactrians there. An ya mighta heard: got a new pirate transport in Cortez for us. It's docked at Montezuma, bay 12. Bought it from some Molly in Dublin for some platry cash. It's been delivered and outfitted. Use it ta supplement yer patrols of Magellan an' Cortez. I do want our presence there known. 'Sides, if they pass through California, they're bound'a pass through either'a them two systems. And ain' no law dogs or hunters out that way. Nobody peein' on yer parade, ya dig?"

The footsteps down the hallway had gained in volume throughout Clif's tirade. As he cut off the last, they began hearing the crying of hundreds of people.

"This is what I'm wantin' ta see from you boys. I'm wantin' this kind of intake of slaves" He pointed down the dank hallway as the morose group emerged from the shadows. One scruffy recruit scrambled to Clif and handed him a report of the deal. Jailers led rows of shackled prisoners and threw them into the empty cells that they passed. Most of the people were dressed as if on vacation, with a few uniforms from various companies scattered throughout. The lot looked in a bad way, unfed and broken. Halfway on their journey to either Malta, or the diamond mines of the Omegaes.

"Now, I'm contacting the LPI as well. Those corrupt frackers will sell us slaves too. I'm sure of it. We just need to find one with access to a transport. Bribe them with millions if you have to, I'll see it paid." Clif paused to see if his sense of urgency had sunk in. "I want Niverton positively brimming with these pukes!" Clif screamed.

Almost embarrassed, he spun and walked into the dark of one of the hallways and quickly strode to his ship. The meeting was over, but the hard work had just begun.

The Pens of Niverton - ryeguy146 - 07-19-2010

The Pens of Niverton
Project: Aquisition

The new Bactrians were serving well. The fleet was already active, and in fact, were currently descending on Planet Curacao, Los Angeles, and others to fulfill their grim purpose. Clif was aboard one of these and eyed San Francisco, a major city on Los Angeles. His view was obscured by heavy rain and the thick glass window of the Stupid Singularity as he descended to the planet's surface. A heavy lifter controlled their fall through the atmosphere on the dark side of the stormy planet. Clif dozed in an attempt to avoid the heavy vibration that resonated through the hull.

The Rogues were usually content to just amass their stock of 'workers' from loan sharks and makeshift hijackings of passenger ships. Unpaid debts were numerous in Liberty, and those that were owed often chose to send their debtors into slavery to recoup the loss. These were usually sufficient means to keep Niverton filled. However, the recent increase in demand had caught the Rogues unprepared, and the pens of Niverton were dangerously low. They had to do something about this before anyone else caught on. It wouldn't do to have to turn down the next smuggler. The Outcasts would be outraged, and the diamond mines of Omega-11 would grind to a halt. And the Rogues needed credits, not angry customers.

A hiss from the thrusters of their lifter woke Clif from his thoughts. They had made landing, and the time to collect had arrived. "Right you Rogues, you've done this before. We're here for the strongest backs, the prettiest women, and children." He suppressed an inkling of guilt that arose, thinking of how those last would be used. Profit, he cleared his mind and continued.

"Round up what you can and meet me back here in," he consulted his datapad for the time, "0300 hours, local time. Steal what you can and get out." He keyed the hatch and sent the Rogues running. Clif reminded himself that he wasn't exempt from the task, and followed. He closed the hatch behind him and addressed a ground team nearby. "I want this Bactrian hidden 'til 0100, then I need 'er ready to fly within the hour. Refuel the lifter and check the couplings. I don't want to be dropped on the way out.." He turned to leave before adding, "And we may have us some company, so stay sharp."

The Pens of Niverton - ryeguy146 - 07-20-2010

After leaving the compound, Clif sprinted towards a house that he had picked out on the map some time ago, a small mansion with opposing curved stairs leading to the font door. But Clif had other designs for entry. The advanced team, in addition to securing a landing point, had provided the rest of the Rogues with possible targets, and recon covering each. Clif took the obvious cash cow. It was all done up with white gaudy pillars and a facade that cost more than his gunboat. It was a low and grated window leading to the basement that was to serve as his entry point.

He arrived out of breath and stooped to the window. Out of a jacket pocket came a packet of acid and an alkaline catalyst. He placed a mixture on each bar and waited as it sizzled through the metal. A silent entry was always best, and Clif congratulated himself on making it this far. As he lowered himself into the basement, he heard screams and a few shots to the east. Another of the team, most like. Hope they don't get caught, he thought. Sirens sounded from the same direction and more shots. At least it ain't me.

The advanced recon suggested that the inhabitants of this house would be home, seven children, two parents, and some maids, maybe a chef. Quite the haul, if he could wrangle the lot. Unfortunately, he had no information about where any of these people would be, but he doubted that any were awake. In the dark of the basement, most likely a wine cellar, Clif removed a pistol from his pocket and checked the clip. Ten dart rounds of tranquilizers would do for any runners. He finished checking his kit and slid past the door.

The Pens of Niverton - Rodent - 07-20-2010

Back in the shadows, Diana Hughes waited for confirmation to begin executing the plan. She was well hidden in the bushes with a skin-tight black dress that worked for camouflage.

Come in 'ere Clif, we gettin' restless! She said over the transponder, checking her equipment. She had tranquilizer guns, and bolts, as well as some good old sticks to beat people over the head with. She sighed, and prepared herself for adventure.