OOC- This is a redux of an old thread that had some characters and dynamics that I really enjoyed, so I'm gonna give it another go. Vague and Notorious (don't know if you're still about) might remember this one.
IC-
Daniel Obright sat behind his simple oaken desk, sifting through various paperwok. Inventories, ship manifests, contracts. Behind him, a broad window provided a humble vista of a rolling grass field, the horizon cut short by a high wall, showing the border of the Obright estate. Of to the right, the sun hung low. Dan's study was a rough egg shape, the walls closer together near the doors, and broadening out towards Daniel's desk. It's floors were wood, a similarly dark and aged shade as his desk. Wooden beams lead from the floor to the ceiling along the walls in broad, uniform spaces. Between the beams, the walls were shear, some synthetic plastic-metal hybrid, its soft taupe color blending into its surroudings. A cross between the modern age, and days long passed. A rare luxury, indeed. To the walls an either side of Dan's desk were bookshelves, full of books from ship's logs, to law books, to popular and classic literature. More of a show of wealth than of knowledge in these days of the datapad. The other half of the room, closest to the doors, was lined with chairs, coffee tables, and wall decorum.
Setting down his pen, Obright sighed and leaned back in his chair, its base squeeking in protest. Slouching forward, he set his elbows on the table and rested his forhead in his palms. For requiring not much more than the movement of his writing hand, paperwork had to be the most tiring labor he had ever experienced. Sitting back up straight, the man pressed a button on a small panel, inlaid on the edge of the desk. From one of the far corners, two thin, metallic rods rose from inside the desk before a holodisplay flickered to life between them. Inside the display, Daniel pressed a small holokey, and the comm beeped.
"Lori?" he said.
"Yes, Mr. Obright?" his secritary said from the other side.
"Send in Hale."
"Yes, Mr. Obright."
Within a moment, the double doors at the end Obright's study swung open, and a tall, slender man wearing clothes whose casual ruggedness were in sharp contrast of Obright's pressed pinstripe suit, whose jacket and vest were hanging from the back of the man's chair. Dan watched the man aproach, free of the hostile anxiety that usually accompanied a confrontation with a superior, and free of the underlying joy of old friends. The man walked with trust in his shoes. Obright didn't need to direct him to sit down in one of the two chairs opposite him at his desk. He just followed the man with his eyes.
"Captain Hale," Dan said in greeting, a slight smirk of content quirking the side of his mouth.
"Obright," the man replied, apathetic.
"You wanted to speak with me?"
"I did."
Obright leaned forward and rested his elbows on his desk, gesturing with his hands for the Captain to go on before interlocking his fingers and resting his chin over them.
"You know I don't like carrying live cargo."
"Hale, you know how this goes--"
"Daniel, I don't carry slaves. You know that."
Obright sighed and leaned back in his chair, the base squeeking incessantly. "Friod, do I really need to go through this with you?"
The Captain set his elbow on the chair's arm, resting his cheek on a fist. A moment of silence passed as the Captain stared out the window. "No," he said finally. "Just, please. Leave me with the spice, the weapons, anything. Just not slaves. They smell, they shit, they die, and the stench refuses to leave my ship."
Obright chuckled, coaxing a smile from the Captain. "Alright, Hale. Just, Gired had such a nice set of kashyyk oak carvings. He wouldn't settle for anything else."
"Fine, fine," Hale said, waving an indifferent hand in the air. "Just don't let it happen again, alright?"
Obright smiled at the man. "What ever you say, Hale. Just don't lose any of my cargo, and we'll both be happy men." Obright leaned forward again, and shuffled some papers aside, searching. "Besides that, however, I was meaning to speak to you about something." He extended a small flimsy to the space Captain.
Hale glanced over it. "What's this?" he asked, even as he read it.
"It's your next job. A new contract. You in?"
Hale took another moment to read the sheet more thoroughly. "But, that's New Republic space? We don't usually cross the border. The patrols, and what not."
Daniel Obright nodded, smiling. "Yes, I know. But, you are aware of the current events around Coruscant and Corellia, correct?"
"The Imperial advance," Hale said with a nod.
"Exactly. Fleets so large, even the reserves are low. The majority of the New Republic's fleet is likely to be called to Corellia to fend off the Remnant. If the Remnant succeeds, it will be the end of the New Republic, as well as the Commonwealth. Both sides know it. That's why the Imperial fleet will be pouring all it can on Corellia."
"So, no one's gonna be watching the borders?" Hale provided skepticly.
"Not as many, to be sure." After a moment of quiet as Hale thought the deal over, Obright went on, opening up a galactic map on the holodisplay. "It's time to expand our network, Captain Hale. Obright Import Export will establish an office... here." Obright jabbed a finger at a point on the map.
"Commenor?"
Obright nodded. "A perfect trading point for such imports and exports."
"And my ships?"
"I've arranged for clear passage with one of Nar Shadaa's hutts. we'll base our operation there."
Hale shook his head with a sudden anxiety. "I don't like hutts."
"Leave them to me. You just do your job." Obright gave a nod of conclusion. "Finally, on the note of expansion," the man said, reaching into a drawer and handing Hale a datapad.
"What's this?" Hale asked again, this time not looking down at the information in his hand.
"Your new ship."
Hale hesitated a moment, staring at Obright, looking for any sign of jest. The man's easy smile of contentment showed he was honest. Curiosity took over, and Hale glanced down at the specifications. It only took a moment before he shook his head in Hutt-anxiety. "Wait a minute," he said, looking up. "This isn't a transport."
Obright nodded. "I know that."
"This is a pirate ship."
"I know that."
Hale looked back down at the datapad, reading over the specs again. Looking back up, "But... this is a pirate ship."
Obright smiled.
Secret Compartments
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