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Star Wars (d6): The Gunfighter, the Bounty Hunter, and the Feral Kid
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<blockquote data-quote="Iron Sky" data-source="post: 5279730" data-attributes="member: 60965"><p>Moments later, they pushing their way through the stuffy, crowded press of the Dockside, Blondie in the lead, moving in that way he had that made him always look like he knew where he was going. </p><p></p><p>A repulsor fork-lift with a giant cargo container began pushing through the crowd to shouts and curses, the dense press of bodies driving the three companions to the outside wall. Ishmael grabbed the rim of a porthole for stability and glanced out just in time to see a decent-sized mining ship with the name <em>Dullest Fang</em> anchor up with one of the Dockside Ring's dozens of airlocks. </p><p></p><p>A few minutes later, the lift was past, but there was more commotion as the near-side of a nearby airlock cycled, an excited pint-sized alien with pointed, flap-like ears and gaping eyes chittered at one of the tall armed, armored, and uniformed toughs that lounged about here and there near the airlocks in ones and twos. Ishmael squinted at the insignia on the nearest tough's uniform, making out an upside-down blue triangle on a shield of black.</p><p></p><p> The uniformed guard listened with seeming disinterest, but eventually nodded and spoke briefly into a wristband comlink. Blondie began moving as if to push back out into the main stream of traffic flowing through the Ring, but Ishmael pulled him back, pointing at the other security personal converging on the <em>Dullest Fang's</em> airlock. </p><p></p><p>A few minutes later, a dozen now-alert looking uniformed toughs with hands on blasters were escorting a hovering stasis projector and the three small alien miners that pushed it through the crowds. Standing on tiptoes and straining, Ishmael could make out half-a-dozen fist-sized blue crystals floating in the stasis projector's field.</p><p> </p><p>“What is going on there?” Blondie said.</p><p> </p><p>Ishmael turned to answer but saw that Blondie was talking to an ancient human miner so bent over by age that the man's head seemed to be sprouting from the front of his chest. He also saw Christian vomiting in an unattended duffel bag by a different airlock. He shook his head and leaned in to listen to the old miner.</p><p></p><p> “Can't see worth a darn down here, they got some Isalis Security goons escorting some miner's pay-dirt?”</p><p> </p><p>“That's what it looks like,” Ishmael said, watching the crowd slow to a standstill to alternately gape, stare, curse, cheer, coax, or threaten the diminutive aliens and their ring of guards.</p><p> </p><p>“They musta struck it rich, how many crystals they got?”</p><p> </p><p>“Looks like six... seven?”</p><p> </p><p>“Any count on the facets? Crystal's facets tell ya how much it'll fetch at the Cartel's office in the Inner Ring.”</p><p> </p><p>“That one has eight or nine, the others seem to have what, five, six?”</p><p> </p><p>“The biggest one has about twelve or thirteen,” Blondie said, gazing into the distance and spitting.</p><p> </p><p>“That'll fetch a good price. Would be better'n if could get 'em to the off station buyers, but no use riskin' the Cartel's wrath. They're playin' it safe, playin' it smart. Them crystals ain't worth dying for, if'n you asks me, but that don't stop a whole passel of people from all across the Republic and beyond from comin' here an' doin' just that!”</p><p> </p><p>“What do you mean, 'the Cartel's wrath'?” Ishmael said. “They one of the power players on the station?”</p><p> </p><p>“One of? They're the power here son. Don't cross them if'n your thinkin' of ever flying outta the Shroud again. Nope, best to play it safe like them lucky ones there. Hire Isalis Security so they's goons don't find you and beat a protection fee outta you anyway later, sell at the Cartel Office rather'n make a run for someplace out-system. Make your profit while there's profits to be made, make it out alive. Risk versus reward, son, risk versus reward.”</p><p> </p><p>“Why not just jump in from somewhere else, scoop up a bunch of crystals, then jump back out?” Ishmael said. “Not good enough money?” </p><p> </p><p>He saw Christian moving up behind them and put his hand on his credit pouch just to be sure and turned so his back wasn't to the kid. He didn't think Christian would try anything, but that kid had gotten a damn <em>lightsaber</em> somewhere and Ishmael wasn't 100% sure the kid wouldn't try to use it on him if he gave him the chance.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Iron Sky, post: 5279730, member: 60965"] Moments later, they pushing their way through the stuffy, crowded press of the Dockside, Blondie in the lead, moving in that way he had that made him always look like he knew where he was going. A repulsor fork-lift with a giant cargo container began pushing through the crowd to shouts and curses, the dense press of bodies driving the three companions to the outside wall. Ishmael grabbed the rim of a porthole for stability and glanced out just in time to see a decent-sized mining ship with the name [I]Dullest Fang[/I] anchor up with one of the Dockside Ring's dozens of airlocks. A few minutes later, the lift was past, but there was more commotion as the near-side of a nearby airlock cycled, an excited pint-sized alien with pointed, flap-like ears and gaping eyes chittered at one of the tall armed, armored, and uniformed toughs that lounged about here and there near the airlocks in ones and twos. Ishmael squinted at the insignia on the nearest tough's uniform, making out an upside-down blue triangle on a shield of black. The uniformed guard listened with seeming disinterest, but eventually nodded and spoke briefly into a wristband comlink. Blondie began moving as if to push back out into the main stream of traffic flowing through the Ring, but Ishmael pulled him back, pointing at the other security personal converging on the [I]Dullest Fang's[/I] airlock. A few minutes later, a dozen now-alert looking uniformed toughs with hands on blasters were escorting a hovering stasis projector and the three small alien miners that pushed it through the crowds. Standing on tiptoes and straining, Ishmael could make out half-a-dozen fist-sized blue crystals floating in the stasis projector's field. “What is going on there?” Blondie said. Ishmael turned to answer but saw that Blondie was talking to an ancient human miner so bent over by age that the man's head seemed to be sprouting from the front of his chest. He also saw Christian vomiting in an unattended duffel bag by a different airlock. He shook his head and leaned in to listen to the old miner. “Can't see worth a darn down here, they got some Isalis Security goons escorting some miner's pay-dirt?” “That's what it looks like,” Ishmael said, watching the crowd slow to a standstill to alternately gape, stare, curse, cheer, coax, or threaten the diminutive aliens and their ring of guards. “They musta struck it rich, how many crystals they got?” “Looks like six... seven?” “Any count on the facets? Crystal's facets tell ya how much it'll fetch at the Cartel's office in the Inner Ring.” “That one has eight or nine, the others seem to have what, five, six?” “The biggest one has about twelve or thirteen,” Blondie said, gazing into the distance and spitting. “That'll fetch a good price. Would be better'n if could get 'em to the off station buyers, but no use riskin' the Cartel's wrath. They're playin' it safe, playin' it smart. Them crystals ain't worth dying for, if'n you asks me, but that don't stop a whole passel of people from all across the Republic and beyond from comin' here an' doin' just that!” “What do you mean, 'the Cartel's wrath'?” Ishmael said. “They one of the power players on the station?” “One of? They're the power here son. Don't cross them if'n your thinkin' of ever flying outta the Shroud again. Nope, best to play it safe like them lucky ones there. Hire Isalis Security so they's goons don't find you and beat a protection fee outta you anyway later, sell at the Cartel Office rather'n make a run for someplace out-system. Make your profit while there's profits to be made, make it out alive. Risk versus reward, son, risk versus reward.” “Why not just jump in from somewhere else, scoop up a bunch of crystals, then jump back out?” Ishmael said. “Not good enough money?” He saw Christian moving up behind them and put his hand on his credit pouch just to be sure and turned so his back wasn't to the kid. He didn't think Christian would try anything, but that kid had gotten a damn [I]lightsaber[/I] somewhere and Ishmael wasn't 100% sure the kid wouldn't try to use it on him if he gave him the chance. [/QUOTE]
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