Post by Konstai Vekdara on Jan 14, 2011 20:34:11 GMT -5
Having secured his ship and spending several hours to wind his ways through the dark depths of the industrial section, he comes across the place that he has journeyed so far for.
He is enters into a small vestibule, once a worker entryway to some long abandoned factory. Refuse and debris clutter the corners, the place reeks of mold and decay and the pungent smells of industrial waste chemicals.
A figure approaches, a slovenly minion, his clothes not much better than tatters. It gestures for him to follow it. Inside his robes, Konstai fondles the hilt of his dagger; these sorts of dealings always make him nervous.
An onrush of heat hits him as they walk into what once was a long factory floor, the high ribbed arches climb their way above into the darkness. Several rows of what to a non-expert would look to be bacta-tanks loom in the darkness, their contents shades of crimson not green. Konstai finds himself distracted and envious of this man's facilities. With the number and size of bio-reactors like these, so much more would be possible and in a much more agreeable timeframe.
A Twi'lek, in much finer clothes, speaks to him:
"Your request is ready... doctor. I assume you are ready to complete transfer of the payment that was agreed upon, yes?
Konstai is shaken out of his musings by the question,
"Mmmmm... Yes, yes your monies are in order, I trust that you have the batch already packaged for me as requested.
The Twi'lek confirms it with a nod and a gesture to someone off in the shadows who replies that indeed the money has been transferred. Another disheveled figure approaches carrying a smallish canister and a small case tucked beneath its arm. It sets the canister down and offers Konstai the case.
Konstai needs to check the contents of neither, for he can feel though the force that they have done an excellent job refining the small samples he provided them months ago. With no further business to conduct with them, he takes his purchase and heads back out the way he came.
The Twi’lek calls after him about it a pleasure doing business, but it goes unanswered, Konstai’s mind if focused on much more important things.
The better part of the day later in the deep evening, Konstai returns from having a wonderful meal at one of the better dining establishments near the senate building. Utilizing the shuttle services, for it would be suicide to try and pilot a craft in this place, he finds the other thing he was looking for on his evening excursion. What appears to be the perfect night-cap, stands just a few feet in front of him. The young woman carries several diplomatic document containers and is tapping her fingers anxiously on the side of the hand-hold. He opens himself to the force and gently sifts through the top layers of her mind to be rewarded. Even a beginner could sense it, she positively broadcasted her emotions, worried that she will be reprimanded she is anxious to get to his office… Konstai is not familiar with the mental image he sees of the senator, but he will have a look through the datafiles on his long trip to confirm.
As the ship approaches it’s platform, Konstai “assists” in halting the craft with the force. The sudden stop sends everyone lurching forward, some even loose their grip and fall. Letting his own weight carry him forward into the back of the girl, the needle of the injector he has cupped in his hand finds its mark in the small of the woman’s back. Everyone spends a moment, righting themselves and trying to find their belongings and apologizing to their fellow passengers. Konstai acts no different, he helps the woman regain her composure and it rewarded with a calloused thank you spat out at him before she pushes her way out the door of the shuttle.
Now it should only be a matter of 12 hours before he sees if his creation has the intended effect.
Upon returning to his ship, and before lifting off, Konstai contacts one of his minions to have him arrange the brokers to purchase certainties on Bacta futures. Oh it will be an exciting morning tomorrow.
He is enters into a small vestibule, once a worker entryway to some long abandoned factory. Refuse and debris clutter the corners, the place reeks of mold and decay and the pungent smells of industrial waste chemicals.
A figure approaches, a slovenly minion, his clothes not much better than tatters. It gestures for him to follow it. Inside his robes, Konstai fondles the hilt of his dagger; these sorts of dealings always make him nervous.
An onrush of heat hits him as they walk into what once was a long factory floor, the high ribbed arches climb their way above into the darkness. Several rows of what to a non-expert would look to be bacta-tanks loom in the darkness, their contents shades of crimson not green. Konstai finds himself distracted and envious of this man's facilities. With the number and size of bio-reactors like these, so much more would be possible and in a much more agreeable timeframe.
A Twi'lek, in much finer clothes, speaks to him:
"Your request is ready... doctor. I assume you are ready to complete transfer of the payment that was agreed upon, yes?
Konstai is shaken out of his musings by the question,
"Mmmmm... Yes, yes your monies are in order, I trust that you have the batch already packaged for me as requested.
The Twi'lek confirms it with a nod and a gesture to someone off in the shadows who replies that indeed the money has been transferred. Another disheveled figure approaches carrying a smallish canister and a small case tucked beneath its arm. It sets the canister down and offers Konstai the case.
Konstai needs to check the contents of neither, for he can feel though the force that they have done an excellent job refining the small samples he provided them months ago. With no further business to conduct with them, he takes his purchase and heads back out the way he came.
The Twi’lek calls after him about it a pleasure doing business, but it goes unanswered, Konstai’s mind if focused on much more important things.
The better part of the day later in the deep evening, Konstai returns from having a wonderful meal at one of the better dining establishments near the senate building. Utilizing the shuttle services, for it would be suicide to try and pilot a craft in this place, he finds the other thing he was looking for on his evening excursion. What appears to be the perfect night-cap, stands just a few feet in front of him. The young woman carries several diplomatic document containers and is tapping her fingers anxiously on the side of the hand-hold. He opens himself to the force and gently sifts through the top layers of her mind to be rewarded. Even a beginner could sense it, she positively broadcasted her emotions, worried that she will be reprimanded she is anxious to get to his office… Konstai is not familiar with the mental image he sees of the senator, but he will have a look through the datafiles on his long trip to confirm.
As the ship approaches it’s platform, Konstai “assists” in halting the craft with the force. The sudden stop sends everyone lurching forward, some even loose their grip and fall. Letting his own weight carry him forward into the back of the girl, the needle of the injector he has cupped in his hand finds its mark in the small of the woman’s back. Everyone spends a moment, righting themselves and trying to find their belongings and apologizing to their fellow passengers. Konstai acts no different, he helps the woman regain her composure and it rewarded with a calloused thank you spat out at him before she pushes her way out the door of the shuttle.
Now it should only be a matter of 12 hours before he sees if his creation has the intended effect.
Upon returning to his ship, and before lifting off, Konstai contacts one of his minions to have him arrange the brokers to purchase certainties on Bacta futures. Oh it will be an exciting morning tomorrow.
