[font=Garamond]Walking in with his bleary eyes, Dervin reached into his pocket for his trusty cardamine on the way to
Claymore's table. The drug steadied him and he felt hyper aware. Motioning to the bartender was no
longer necessary, and wine was sure to find its way to his table in no time. He lightly clapped Claymore
on the back and took a chair across from the man. "So, I hear you've a proposition of some sort? I'd
have come earlier, but tasks... I'm sure you know how it is. And thank's again for Artificial Horizon's
return. It'll be going to one of my promising new Rogues shortly, and will see more action, no doubt.
But let's get to it, shall we?"
Roger observed the new Crime Boss sit down, and knew that he was using cardamine to some degree. Probably an addiction. Roger had been careful to avoid the stuff and an inevitable addiction. It would've cut into his wallet pretty deeply, and made him too reliant on the Outcasts. But when you organise the smuggling operation of the drug into a large area, you would probably get addicted yourself.
Roger put his age at late-thirties or early forties, but he wasn't exactly well-known when it came to guessing the age of people. Roger guessed he carried at least two guns on his person, like any Crime Boss worth his life. A knife, possibly. Maybe some other things, like brass knuckles. Everybody was different when it came to a choice in weaponry.
'Glad to 'ear that tha Artificial Sunset's gonna get a new pilot. It's a good ship, but with tha WRF in their Wraiths 'n' shield runnin', they woulda just picked at 'er until she was gone. She'll be better off fightin' tha LNS swarms.
'Now, 'bout ma proposal. I told that littl' rat Clif 'bout it, told 'im to tell Sylpheed. 'e was pro'ably gonna pass it off as 'is own idea, but whatever. But I'm sure that it'd make us both a great deal o' cash.
'If ya 'aven't 'eard, I've been 'avin' some great successes in tha minin' areas o' Omega-7, Dublin 'n' Tau-23. Tha minas gotta make thirty millions a run, 'n' then if ya charge 'em four millions for tha entire day, then it gives 'em tha time to make 'undreds o' millions. Some o' 'em even complain that it's too much! They get a Snack in their 'egemons for sayin' that crap.
'But recently... there 'ave been more problems. More minas resist for a starter. Or more form groups. But tha real problem is tha rise in lawful activity. They get organised so they got a pretty much guaranteed victory 'gainst me. I'm talkin' 'bout gankin', which I know tha guys on tha lanes pro'ably get worse than me.
'I make so much money with this thing. I musta made over 'alf a billion creds since I started, 'n' I'm just one guy in a Roc. So... 'ow much would be made if we 'ad a proper operation for this?' He paused and took a swig from his Sidewinder Fang.
'What I'm offerin' is an expansion o' ya piratin' operations, without 'avin' to tell any o' ya allies or even acknowledgin' our existence. Or even announcin' ya don't support us 'n' want us killed or somethin'. Ya got plenty o' great pilots in Cassini when 'ow often do any 'ostile ships ever attack that system? Rarely. I was in tha Cassini Guard for twenty years 'n' I saw very littl' action. We just entertained ourselves on patrol with our singin'. I sung tha Frank Sinatra stuff, but that ain't tha point.
'A guy from tha Cassini Guard 'as already come down 'n' 'as now joined me in 'elpin' out. 'e 'as a Roc like me, 'n' I'm tellin' ya we'd be able to take on four times tha force that I coulda taken on ma own. 'n' if we pirate individually instead o' in a group, then we get four millions each. 'n' if tha lawfuls arrives, we Snack 'em together. 'ow effective would that be if there were five Rocs?' Another swig.
'One goes 'n' pirates tha minas, then tha next, then tha next, then tha next, until ya got tha minas payin' twenty millions to five different pirates. 'n' if they refuse after tha first two or somethin'? Then tha third guy blows 'im up 'n' a transport comes in to pick up tha ore. Then sell it to tha other minas.
'If ya got any pity for tha minas, ya should just think 'bout tha fact that they shouldn't've been greedy enough not to 'ire security. They're rich 'n' greedy, so we should exploit that.' A third swig, this time emptying the cup. He put it back on the table in slight frustration and stared at it, as if wishing for a refill. Eventually he stopped and looked back at Dervin.
'So, ya get some volunteers together 'n' we 'ead out o' Liberty to tax tha minas. We could even try 'ittin' 'em when they're actually goin' to tha place they sell tha ore, which could be easier. But if ya 'it tha field, ya ain't gotta wait on a lane while ya 'air turns grey.
'Ya can say whatever ya want 'bout us. A bunch o' quitters came 'n' joined me, or ya sent 'em 'cos ya wanna make extra money by usin' me, I don't really care. I just like 'avin' some wingmen. Then we send a part o' tha profits to tha Rogues 'n' ya back 'ome. I'm still a Rogue in tha 'eart, so o' course I wanna 'elp ma people. Even if they wouldn't wanna 'elp me.'
He paused, waiting for a response from Dervin. He had talked for long enough, probably the longest he had ever talked without somebody talking back. So he wanted to hear what the new Crime Boss had to say about his little scheme.
[17:45:39] Wolfs Ghost (Murphy): Tom, you have problems. Go kill yourself.
[19:25:12] Johnny (Jam): Tomtom, I will beat you with a spoon.
[14:22:56] Prarabdh Thakur: KILL HIM WITH A SHEEP.
[17:40:48] Eagle (Junes): Tom should be slapped with a spoon.
[11:32:18] Warspite: Thank you for being so awesome Tom. <3
[18:17:36] Metano: I love you tomtom
[20:06:24] Warspite: I will seriously give you epic head.
' Wrote:Edit: also, Tomtomrawr, fappin' like a boss.
Full of Anger Danny quickly walks into the Bar, standing next to the Bar he looks at the drunk Customers, the Customers on Cardamine and the Customers with Whores like he was searching someone. Finding the Person he was looking for he charges towards the Table. "Lash!" he yells while his Fist is rising, then hitting Lash's Face and knocking him unconscious.
"Who is it doing this synthetic type of alpha beta psychedelic funkin'?"
[font=Garamond]Anger lit the eyes of Malfient at the mention of Clif. It was obvious that there was no love lost with the
man's capture. The arrival of the wine quenched any stirred feelings. A low ranking Rogue set it on the
table and ran off. Dervin's eyes followed the man as he reached to pour himself a cup, offering Roger
the remainder as the man finished setting out his proposal.
"I'm interested in your ideas, to say the least. It's a small wonder that Clif hadn't passed them off
as his own invention, but there's been no discussions on the issue. There's more reasons than just this
to develop a more... covert wing of Rogue pilots, but it would serve as a motivation to get the idea off
the ground, no doubt."
Dervin sat back and sipped his wine thoughtfully. "Since I've called in every bugger to Liberty to
keep the lawfuls busy, Liberty has been a traffic jam of madness. It would be interesting to expand
our horizons, so long as Liberty get's paid its due attention, of course. I'll have to discuss it some with
my underbosses, but I don't see any reason why this shouldn't happen. On the down low, of course.
I'd rather none of my friends in Rheinland catch wind of this operation, nor the existence of such a
wing. Fortunately, a man in my position has ways of laundering the money..."
He trailed off and reached again for the baggy of cardamine in his pocket. He carelessly inserted a
knife and snorted a small pile of the orange powder from the blade before continuing. "Of course,
this means that we'll have to be careful who we include. Considering your history with the Rogues,
I'm sure you know that not all are to be trusted, but I've a few in mind. It may take a short time to
gather everything, but I'm optimistic that this could be a good avenue for the Rogues, and the
existence of such a secret wing would ease a good number of sticky situations." Malfient reached
into another pocket to grab a datapad and began to make a few notes whilst drinking his wine. After
a time, he looked up at Roger, "Anything more you might add while I'm here? The more detail, the
better," He grinned wolfishly and swallowed the remainder of his wine, a small blood red drop ran
down his chin from the corner of his mouth.
Roger watched the man charge into the bar and land a punch into a patron, knocking him unconscious. He then grinned. Exactly what a Rogue bar should be. He drank from the wine that Dervin had poured into his cup. The slight taste of Sidewinder Fang from what remained of the liquid was what he lavished and held onto.
'More detail? Well, all I can think o' is to only focus on 'ittin' tha minas. They make tha thirty millions a run 'n' tha 'undred o' millions a day, so they're far richer than any traders ya may get on lanes. 'n' ya know exactly where they are, so ya go to 'em instead o' 'em comin' to you. If no minas are there ya know so ya just go 'n' wait somewhere until they return. They can't avoid ya.
'Oh, 'n' Rocs should be tha main ships. They're perfect for fightin' fighters, other bombers 'n' capital ships. 'n' also ya can get 'e anywhere, so they wouldn't be traceable. No trace, so no worry.' He finished the wine, which by now had completely lost the faint taste of his Sidewinder Fang, and put the cup on the table again, using his other hand to reach for the jug and pour another cup full.
[17:45:39] Wolfs Ghost (Murphy): Tom, you have problems. Go kill yourself.
[19:25:12] Johnny (Jam): Tomtom, I will beat you with a spoon.
[14:22:56] Prarabdh Thakur: KILL HIM WITH A SHEEP.
[17:40:48] Eagle (Junes): Tom should be slapped with a spoon.
[11:32:18] Warspite: Thank you for being so awesome Tom. <3
[18:17:36] Metano: I love you tomtom
[20:06:24] Warspite: I will seriously give you epic head.
' Wrote:Edit: also, Tomtomrawr, fappin' like a boss.
[font=Garamond]
Dervin smeared the wine from his face with a shirtsleeve as he listened to Claymore speak. He let the
words pass him by, off in a drug addled world of his own. Malfient's thoughts flew at a cardamine
induced pace as he considered the proposal.
"Rocs." Dervin stated simply, echoing the man's suggestion. "Now that would make sense, wouldn't it?
I've actually been considering something like an unmarked wing for some time. It would simplify
some of our operations in tentative areas. Hunting weapon dealers and the like. Assassinations."
He removed his packet of orange powder from a pocket and renewed his roll with a quick snort.
"To say the least, I'm interested. And while I like Rocs fine and good, I'll be leaving the issue of
vessel selection up to those of my boys that join in the fun. I assume that so long as we've the
firepower of the group, a single fighter wouldn't be an issue. And perhaps useful for interdiction
and such..." He trailed off, returning to the world inside his head for some time.
"Yes. It will be done." He stood up and added, "I'll be in touch," before turning to leave.
David sighed as he walked into the Bar. Things had been hectic ever since Dervin had vanished. A new crimeboss already? Even if it was temporary, it was still unsettling to be flying though the bosses.
The bar was unusually quiet. Not a soul in sight, other than the barman who was asleep on the Bar. David walked over to him and gave him a prod.
"Wuhh? Whozere?" He mumbled.
"David you slob, pour me a drink will ya." David replied.
"Sorry Dave." Replied the old guy. "The Bar's been lacking in customers lately."
The bartender handed David a drink, and stretched out a cramp in his neck.
"I plan to change that." Answered David. "I'll find a way to get people back in here, mate. Don't worry about it."
Hubert enters the bar in a hurry. Right from the hangar... still accelerated by the adrenaline rush of his elegant, but still a bit hysterical escape from the cops chasing him off the Lane..
,,Aye lads !" He shouts on Dave and Dwayne
,,Iv'go a LOT to celebrate, bwahahahaaaa" *laughs and orders a whiskey*
Finding the Alcatraz bar had been easy enough; despite the somewhat mazelike quality of Rogue bases. Sarah grinned. It'd been as simple as following the noise; which, despite a faint headache, was more then welcome.
The slim girl slipped in behind Hubert, quietly thankful that she'd avoided attracting the attention of the bars occupants. Sarah glided to a nearby window; eschewing a suspiciously coloured chair in favour of settling on the window sill. The new Rogue hugged her knees to her chest, assuming an almost catlike stance.
She was content to gaze out into the field and, of course, at her new companions.
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