Smuggler Archive
Thread: A Slice of Life, RP from BH to Smuggler
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Gooney
Tue Nov 16, 2004 9:44 am
#1
With a soft "snick" the power coupler casing slid back into place. He hefted the weapon
in his hand; pale blue eyes radiated a diffused light as they played across the lustre
surface, a slight grin played across his blue tinged face giving him an air of
satisfaction. The room he sat in was sparsely furnished; muffled sounds of laughter,
music, and conversation seemed to seep in under the closed door. His small leather tool
kit with its glimmering instruments remained on the workbench immediately to his right,
within easy reach. The room was dark except for the small photon lamp focused directly
over his working area. A small greyish patch of soft cloth occupied the area directly
under the lamp. A tiny focal calliper, with its green diode lamps was on the opposite
the tool set, positioned for ease of use. Also on the table was an assortment of micro
clamps and another small package with wire splices, and pressed circuits.
"Boomer will like this". Prev had completed a small job, performing seemingly
insignificant adjustments and replacements of key components on a very cleverly crafted
weapon. This particular pistol was nearly a piece of art. Its fine black lines became
emphasised by the pale light and tone of the skin of Prevs hand. It gleamed with a quiet
solidness, seeming to Prev to embody reliability.
The Empire called this type of job "Slicing", and had declared it illegal a few years
back. Since that time, there grew a small population of men and women who became
proficient in bypassing Empire required safeguards and tamper systems. The goal is of
course getting at the delicate insides of weapons and armours. These people were known
as Slicers or Rogues or even lump defined as Smugglers, even though very few if any
actually ever smuggled anything other than their tools of the trade.
Like any job in this kind of environment you had to be careful about who you worked for.
The Empire had been extending its grip slowly over former Republican worlds until they
finally reached Prevs home on Tatooine. This had happened fairly recently, but now you
could scarcely travel unmolested by the white armoured goons employed by the Empire.
When the Empire came to Tatooine it came more or less peacefully, but holding a very big
stick. They brooked no argument, quickly stamping down any rebellious uprisings and
making vocal opponents quietly disappear.
What the Empire didn’t count on in Tatooine was how thoroughly the Hutt controlled the
comings and goings of life there. The Hutt controlled everything, buying, selling,
entertainment, legal and illegal enterprises, the ultimate cartel. In many respects that
made the population somewhat easier for the Empire to control, the people of Tatooine had
never grown accustomed to Republican style democratic processes. The Hutt had up until
then influenced nearly every facet of life on this dry and dusty planet. Politicians
were either apathetic to the Hutt or actively employed by them, commerce, if it wanted to
survive went through the Hutt or hoped one of the rival gangs could protect them from the
Hutt.
Surprisingly enough, or maybe not, the Hutt didn’t make any moves to dissuade the Empire.
The Empire for their part seem to simply have accepted the Hutt for the time being, no
doubt making use of the enormous amount of information that could be purchased rather
than risking an organized defiance against an unpredictable foe. The Hutt are primarily
opportunists with an organization stretching over who knows how many light years.
For my part I grew up here on Tatooine, near the city of Bestine. The Hutt has played a
big role in my life, like most here. I started as a currier, moving on to hired gun
hunting down miscreants and deadbeats that had in one way or another wronged the Hutt or
Jabba specifically. Bounty Hunting isn’t as glamorous as you might think, lots of travel
but at the end it always came down to a personal fight. I lost track of the number of
lives I had taken, grew weary. In that business a weary Bounty Hunter is a dead Bounty
Hunter.
Life with the Hutt tends to catch up with you after a while though; it accumulates like
dust on a light bulb. After years of strong-arming and out right killing, I felt heavy.
Not in a physical sense but in my soul. I had grown jaded, and unsympathetic to the
suffering of others, deaf to the pleading that always came before I silenced them
forever. I was a shell, not much better than any droid, single minded and methodical,
ruthless, relentless, tireless.
Beauty? What was that? I could see none; every person I met became someone I one day
would likely have to hunt like an animal and kill. During this time I didn’t only work
for the Hutt, the Empire contacted me numerous times to help them take care of unwanted
problems. Something in me sparked or turned or became confused. With the Hutt, I always
on some level knew that my target knew why I was coming for them. That’s just how
justice works where I come from.
With the Empire the marks weren’t people like me, they were outside the life I lived and
grew up in. They weren’t criminals, not like us anyway. No they were often inconviences
to the Empire, agitators, activists, subversives, and idealists. Killing those people
was somehow different, their eyes showed defiance and fear, not like the grubbing
self-preservation of a fellow criminal. I think this is what did it, I couldn’t hunt
down these people any more; it weighed too heavily on me. I had to get out. So I
dropped off the net for a while, trying to reconnect with something approaching a normal
life again.
I travelled to Naboo and immersed myself in studies of self-discipline, strengthening my
body and mind. I spent hours in meditation and slowly the weight began to fall from my
shoulders and soul. I left the past in the past and began to again think about the
future.
I made the decision to go back to Tatooine; I wasn’t going to be hunting men anymore
though. Instead of being used as an agent for the Hutt I would use them to provide me
opportunity. I am going to be my own boss now; I will choose the jobs I take. I will
build a web of contacts that could eventually take me out of the uncertainty of a common
thug and into the security of a true Boss, my own boss. I would be a respected and
feared operator or at least a man that can sleep at night.
My years of experience with weaponry made the modification of weapons a natural skill.
Lady Fortuna smiles on me, and it is my fervent hope that she will continue to do so. I
am a freelancer, a pirate, and a self-sufficient entity. Like everything though; a lone
Ekopi gets devoured by Dragonets.
-Gooney
Jaguarrr
Tue Nov 16, 2004 10:06 am
#2
Nice one. Can we expect more?
Urge to write own fanfiction rising... Arrrr
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