Chronicles of The Omniverse Archived Volary

Tiko

Draconic Administrator/Mentor
Administrator
Mentor
Nexus GM
as written by barney_fife

As Miles Hagan had delivered the initial communication that he was the one who happened to own Shanthi, and having learned that the Galaxy Police had been snooping around in the Aschen Slave registry. He figured it was high time he figured out how to return Shanthi, and thus profit from the whole exchange.

It was at the Volarian Spaceport that Tech Con had decided to rear it's ugly head.

Though a spaceport like the one in Volary was likely much better suited for Taiyou ships, the Aschen vessel found no difficulty landing on one of the spaceport's designated landing pads.

As it settled in, the rather ornate Tech Con private transport opened up with an audible hiss, two well dressed Tech Con bodyguards following suit, and then Hagan himself slowly emerged from the transport.
 
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as written by Tiko

Avantia swept through the city with two dozen of her royal guard and a translator in tow. Her brow was furrowed and her steps just shy of hurried. She was far too dignified to let any urgency into her steps as they neared the space port. The city was in a bit of a stir with the arrival of the Aschen vessel, and its very much armed tech con mercenaries. It had only been by her direct orders that the vessel had been permitted to land.

Perhaps it was a lapse in judgement as Kamil has warned her, but she wasn't going to stand on a matter of legalities if this man was indeed in possession of Shanthi as he had claimed when he had first contacted her.

As they approached the landing pad where Miles Hagan was being escorted, Avantia moved forward from her own guards, flanked by only two as the rest held back. Their weapons were out, but lowered, and they were clearly uneasy at the Aschen weapons on scene.

"Mr. Hagan," Avantia greeted as she and her own guards reached the landing pad.

Her eyes glanced to the transport, and she briefly wondered if Shanthi herself was aboard it. She could have the ship seized, but if she were mistaken and the girl was still on Langara, it could well cost her any chance of recovering her.

"It is not often that we receive visitors from the Aschen Empire," she told him as the translator at her side repeated her words in the common Terran tongue - a language she hoped Miles was familiar with. She had been informed that most Aschen spoke it. "I understand you have come to discuss a matter of mutual interest? That of Shanthi Hakkar."
 
as written by barney_fife

As Hagan approached and listened to Avantia, he nodded slightly as she, or rather her translator mentioned an issue of mutual interest.

"It so happens that I have Shanthi Hakkar in my possession, as you probably know, indentured service is legal in the Aschen Empire, and though the means to acquire her here may have been illegal, my means of purchasing her were; absolving me from any culpability in the matter." He said, leaning against his jeweled cane.

"So, we have a little bit of an economical dilemma, you see; I purchased Shanthi fair and square, and for a premium I might add." Hagan said, shifting his stance.

"Therefore, there's no incentive for me to return her back to you, since I would be at a financial loss, as well as a loss for any tangible goods or services she provides." The Tech con CEO Explained.

"A sum of twenty million Aschen cubits, followed by exclusive economic permission to expand Tech Con group to this region are my only, very amicable terms."
 
as written by Tiko

Anger edged into Avantia's eyes at Miles Hagan's demands, and there was a twinge of the muscles along the edges of her jaw before she simply turned and swept away much to the surprise of those accompanying her. Her guards dutifully moved to follow her but her translator was left looking somewhat flustered.

"Ah... she'll have your answer for you in the morning," he explained to Miles Hagan before he moved to hurry after the Matriarch who was already clear of the ramp leading up to the landing pad.
 
as written by Tiko

Miles' answer came the following morning as promised, though it was not Avantia herself who delivered it. An emissary had been sent in her stead to meet with the Aschen businessman on the matter of Shanthi. The tensions of the day prior were not present this morning, and the emissary was meeting with Miles Hagan aboard his transport.

"Mr. Hagan," the young avorian woman greeted. "The Matriarch regrets to inform you that your request for Tech Con expansion is simply not doable at this time, but she graciously hopes that you will accept her counter offer of fifty million Aschen cubits. It is a very generous sum that should more than compensate for any losses you might have otherwise accrued."

The offer was two and a half times the twenty million he had initially demanded, and well over triple the fifteen million he had purchased Shanthi at.
 
as written by barney_fife

The Tech Con executive frowned as he listened to the news being brought back to him. "Fifty million, so she wants to pick and choose what part of the deal she can get." He scowled. Fifty million could pay for an investment elsewhere. "Fine." he scoffed, and then closed the transport door in the Avorian woman's face.

Two Tech Con mercenaries scowled at her, as the transport's engines began to fire up.

Hagan turned to the pilot, and leaned back in his plush chair.

"Take me back to Langara." He demanded.
 
as written by Alara and The Afterman

Come morning Thalgan's face had found its way all over the morning news, and notices were being posted up all over the city. There wasn't a shop or business that didn't have wanted posters hung up with a crude but accurate sketch of his face. It would seem that though he evaded capture by Kumar, his face hadn't been so fortunate. The only real saving grace for Thalgan was that by late morning the bar on non-essential civilian traffic had been lifted. Unfortunately while people were allowed to come and go freely again, all vehicles were being searched upon leaving the city. Traffic was so congested that the roads out of the city were backed up for hours.

___

The hours were trying as every news outlet in the city had plastered his face over every source they could possibly cover, maximizing recognition to a hefty degree. Resorting to disguise, Thalgan has adorned a shawl and sunglasses, making sure his face was exposed only enough not to warrant suspicion from others, but also concealing enough of his features to not be immediately discernible from any other civilian.

He had radioed ahead to his other teammates that the situation had changed, and that he would need to lay low for a while until they could slip him out of the city without attracting the attention of the local law enforcement...or worse.

His team had made arrangements to smuggle him out in an ambulance once things had cooled down a bit; the aftermath of the oblivion they had just delivered was sure to leave many in need of medical attention, and the hospitals were more than likely going to become hubs of overcrowding -a fact they could use to the utmost advantage.

Until then, he stuck to the shadows as much as possible, daring not to endanger himself by making lengthy public appearances, even in disguise. With his training, he had learned to endure days and days without need for fod, so he was covered there. He would only ever leave the safety of the alleyways and the desolate building he had taken to squatting in whenever he truly needed something.

All he could do for now was wait for things to fall apart.

As predicted, the lines of vehicles congesting the streets out of the city were heavily saturated with emergency vehicles and ambulances transporting non-critical patients to hospitals beyond the city to help ease the burden on those being flooded with the victims of yesterday's terrorist attack. As the number of patients with radiation poisoning continued to grow by the hour, beds were in short supply.

It would take many of them hours to clear the city limits at the crawl they were moving along at, and each vehicle leaving the city was being stopped and searched before being allowed through.
 
as written by The Afterman and Tiko

It was show time.

The ambulance, constricted within the ungodly sluggish traffic flow that plagued the city's streets, was able to wade its way through the multitude of cars at a snail's pace, moving minuscule amounts of feet every five minutes or so, their pace no better than that of a crippled snail.

The two men up front, and the third covering the back, had all adorned the disguises of EMT personnel, their dark navy jumpsuits adorned with the accessories of the trade, each of them bearing a radio clipped to their shoulders. It was all for show, of course, and none of them were armed, just in case things went a little less than expected.

In the back, they had a fourth man. This one wasn't one of theirs, however; he was an injured civilian that they had abducted for the purposes of authenticity. His first few moments in the back of the ambulance had been troublesome, what with his protests and feeble struggling against his kidnappers. However, at present he was under the influence of so much anesthesia that it would be amazing if he lived to see the next few hours. However, he was still breathing, bleeding and broken, so that was a plus.

Underneath the floor of the rear portion of the vehicle, they had stowed away their real target. Thalgan, hiding within an insulated, lead-lined secret compartment, was accommodated a rather cramped and dark space. He never thought of himself as claustrophobic, but the rather minute storage space he found himself within was trying his perseverance. As consolation, he was provided an oxygen tank so as not to feel like he were suffocating in the damnable enclosed blackness; so long as he didn't breathe in too deeply, he'd be okay.

They kept driving, calm and collected as they attended to their business, eyes on the road and faces blank. They had all their forged identification in order, as well as any necessary paperwork regarding patient transfer out of the city.

Their hearts pounded in their chests, but for the sake of the mission, they couldn't let that show.

By the time they reached the city entrance, the sun was shining high overhead and Thalgan's hiding place had turned stifling where the vehicles air-conditioning couldn't effectively keep it cooled. The cramped space might as well have been an oven.

The moment of truth was upon them at last though and a security guard approached the driver's window of the vehicle.

"Destination?" he asked.

Thalgan was indeed in an uncomfortable situation, but it was nothing he couldn't tolerate, if only for a little longer. He felt the ambulance crawl and come to a stop, their tenure in that spot a bit longer than those previous.

Up front, the driver gave the guard calm, yet firm eye contact. "You...wouldn't happen to speak common, would you?," he asked, trying to move this along without lingering longer than he had to.

The security guard gave the driver a curious look.

"I asked what your destination is," he asked the driver in Terran.

The driver nodded, giving the guy a sheepish smile that he thought would be reassuring. "Sorry 'bout that. Just moved here and all, haven't had time to really learn the language. I'm taking classes," he said, trying to ensure his small talk made him seem more genuine.

"We're headed to Sanasiti, anyway," he concluded. He didn't explain what they were doing; he hoped the ambulance would speak for itself.

"Can I see your identification," he asked.

While he was seeing to the driver, another security guard was making his way around the vehicle with a flier in hand that depicted an image of Thalgan's face upon it. He held it up as he gave the man in the passenger seat a look over. Seemingly satisfied he made his way around the back.

The driver handed over his forged license. It bore a fake name, date of birth, and anything else that could be easily lied about on paper. The card would read as legitimate, as it was doctored by a very talented, very well-payed forger.

The driver awaited in anticipation, not letting his nervousness show.

The security guard checking the ambulance opened the back doors, but neither the paramedic nor the patient matched the face on the flier and he gave the other security guard a thumbs up as he closed the doors.

The one at the driver's window didn't see so sure though. Something wasn't adding up. Like how the man had gotten a job as an EMT when he couldn't speak the language of the people he had to assist.

"A moment," he explained as he stepped inside the nearby booth.
 
as written by The Afterman, and Tiko

The moment of truth was upon them. Either this would work, or they would be detained and things would likely go south. They were unarmed, save Thalgan, who was in hiding anyway, so they were clear in that regard. How the situation played out in the moments to come, however, would be the difference between success and failure.

The driver had one last excuse up his sleeve, should he need to use it; something he hoped would be convincing enough for a security guard that asked too many questions.

Inside the booth the security guard was punching numbers into the small computer as he looked at the ID card. He glanced up at the screen, but no information could be accessed. He frowned and typed in the number again, taking care not to make any mistakes. Once again it came up as invalid.

He offered a brief wave to the driver to let him know he hadn't forgotten about him.

"It'll just be a minute," he called out calmly to the driver.

He picked up the phone, but whatever he was saying couldn't be heard from outside. A few minutes later he hung the phone up and stepped outside. His hand hovered near his side-arm but wasn't resting on it so as to not cause outright alarm.

"I'm going to need you to step outside for a minute," he told the driver.

The request had caught the attention of the other security guards nearby, and a few of them began to move towards the ambulance.


The driver's heart pounded in his chest, and a quick glance in the mirrors showed him that security personnel around his vehicle was increasing. Figuring the I.D. didn't read out correctly, he cursed mentally, damning the name of their contact that was supposed to be handling their records.

Still, he offered a straight face as he regarded the security officer. "Sure thing," he said calmly, slowly opening the door and stepping out, closing the door behind him and standing by, arms at his sides.

"What seems to be the problem?"

"If you could turn around, and put your hands on the vehicle," the security guard instructed.

"Something wrong, sir?" the driver asked.

"Please turn around, and place both of your hands on the vehicle," the security guard repeated.

His hand was still hovering near his side-arm.

The merc noticed the guard's hand lingering above his firearm. There was no doubt about it: they were busted. The driver sighed, raising his hands, turning around, and gently placing them on the side of the ambulance.

"I can't believe this," he muttered inaudibly.

The security guard moved in to search him up and down for any weapons, and once satisfied he gestured for him to sit down next to the booth.

"Have a seat there," he instructed before switching back to the Volarian tongue. "Get the others out," he told the other security guards. "Search them and get their identification. The police will be here in a minute."

The police officers from one of the nearby booths had made their way over by the time the security guards had the other two out of the ambulance and seated with the driver.

One was on the phone, calling a second ambulance as the unconscious patient was found to be legitimately injured.

The police ran all three of their ID cards through a hand-held scanner, but none of them came back as valid.

"Arrest the three of them and take them in," the officer finally said. "We'll have them questioned back at the station."

"The patient checked out," one of the security officers said. "Aakriti Ackbott. He was a patient at Naiasa Hospital. No discharge records. I gave them a call and no one had even reported him missing. We called an ambulance to come pick him up."

"I'll have a pair of officers ride in with him," the officer said. "Maybe he'll know something when he wakes up."

The others were being cuffed and loaded into police vehicles separately.

Thalgan heard the commotion from his hiding place within the ambulance. He rolled his eyes, suppressing a scoff so as not to give the police outside an opportunity to hear him. He assumed his team had mucked it up somewhere along the line, but the possibility of their government contact not coming through topped the list of possibilities the instant it crossed his mind.

This didn't help to alleviate his soured mood at the transgressions he was being forced to suffer through, but at least he couldn't pin the blame on his teammates. On the contrary, he felt rather guilty that, once more, others would fall in his place so that he could make a clean getaway. He admired the mercenaries he was working with in that regard:

If they were nothing else, at least they were loyal to one of their own.

However, now came the part where he would have to devise an alternate escape route.

He figured a less-than-direct approach would see him out of the city smoothly next time...
 
as written by The Afterman, and Tiko

It was evening when he decided to make his move. He had spent some hours scouring a map of the city, looking for potential escape routes. His interest fell upon a river that passed directly through the city; it was a risky option, but figured he'd be much safer under the cover of the dimming sunlight.

He donned another disguise, wearing a turban and a surgical mask, pretending that he was masking himself from the radiation and plague that had been reported as being a potential threat to the public. Other than that, he wore a ragged set of clothes that included a brown sports jacket, perfect for concealing his blaster pistol.

He kept his hands in his pockets and his head down, looking ahead only enough to see where he was going as he made his way to the riverbed. He had made one last call to his Jupiter Corporation contacts with his comm. link before ditching the blasted thing in a dumpster some miles back; he couldn't risk the encryption being broken, not at this stage in the game.

He had given his rescuers the coordinates for a rendezvous that he had plotted via the map he had, and planned on meeting up with them come nightfall. It would be a long walk beside the river, but he was determined to get out of here alive.

And with the increasing discord that came with the destruction they had caused, getting out was looking like a not-so-hopeless effort after all.

____

It had been hours. His legs were tired, the soles of his feet sore. He hadn't eaten in quite some time, and he felt his stomach rebel against him, demanding sustenance before the acids threatened to boil a hole through his intestines.

Nightfall had fallen some time ago, the stars dotting the black expanse of the sky like millions of little fireflies lighting up the endless void of space. The moon shone down bright, illuminating the world below like a giant floodlight, giving Thalgan good visibility despite the dark shroud of night engulfing the land around him.

He had finally reached the shoreline, his body riddled with aches, ready for some much-needed rest. However, he needed to get clear of the mainland before he was clear of any danger. Looking out over the water, he wondered if he were in any condition to swim out as far as he had told them to meet up at. His breaths were, despite his healthy physicality, quite heavy and laden with exhaustion. He doubted he had it in him to brave the waters.

He'd likely just drown.

With a defeated sigh, he cast his gaze off the right, shaking his head as his eyes met...salvation.

Across the way, driven up onto the sands of the shore, rested a series of jet skis; no doubt the property of some thrill-seeking locals or vacationing tourists. His eyes lit up as they fell upon the assembled watercraft. He knew full well how to operate vehicles such as these, and took it upon himself to comandeer the nearest one to him, breaking open the ignition switch and beginning to perform a hotwire.

Unfortunately the cloak of darkness was both a boon and a hindrance all in one. With a strict curfew over the city in the wake of the terrorist attack, he would lose the cover of the crowds as evening gave way to night.

It was for this fact that his actions caught the eye of one of the many pairs of officers patrolling the beaches and nearby docks.

"Hey, you there," the officer hollered. "Hands up, and turn around slowly!"

They drew their side-arms and kept their flashlights trained on him.

He froze as the lights engulfed his frame, slowly raising his hands above his head and taking a step back from the jet ski. "Don't move!" one of the officers demanded. He could hear their footsteps crunching in the sand beneath their feet, edging closer to him at the tick of every second.

Soon, only one pair of footsteps was heard, and he could discern the sound of a gun being holstered as the arresting officer brandished a set of handcuffs, taking one of the Mandalorian's arms and attempting to restrain it within the alloy shackles.

He would find his suspect to be more combative than anticipated; as the officer placed his hand on Thalgan's wrist, the Mandalorian yanked downward, causing the officer to stumble, while he simultaneously gripped the cop by his left shoulder, spinning him into the front of his person and holding him there, a prisoner to his will.

From behind the wall the officer provided him, Thalgan was able to take his opposite hand and draw his blaster, aiming it over his captive's shoulder, squeezing the trigger quickly and harshly before the other officer had time to fire up his radio. The first bolt from the weapon struck the man in the left-side breast.

The second found itself between his eyes.

After the first officer's body collapsed into the sand, Thalgan trained his weapon to the side of the cop's head, his finger already halfway to initiating another shot. "Please don't kill me. I got kids. Just let me go, please. Ple-"

His begging was cut short by a hot plasma bolt decimating his cranium, blowing a cauterized hole into the side of his head; the man was dead before he even knew what had happened.

Dropping his prey, Thalgan returned to his business, firing up the jet ski in a few short moments. Once the vehicle roared to life, he pushed it into the water, gunning the engine and making his way to the waters beyond the shore, the jet ski splitting the waters it now tread, the seawater spray ejecting behind him as he barreled towards the agreed upon coordinates.

____

The jet ski sat dead in the water, having run out of gas some miles back. He was left floating now, his arms resting above the handlebars as he stared out into the blackness of the night, the waters around him reflecting the glow of the celestial bodies beyond the sky.

He was beginning to grow agitated; did they forget? Was he in the right place? Were they in the right place? His uneasiness swelled as the minutes wore on. This was his last chance to be clear of the city.

If he were to be discovered now, then it would all be over.

Suddenly, he was bathed in the blinding glow of a boat's searchlight, causing him to raise a hand to shield his eyes from the illumination. His first thought was that this had to have been a patrolling vessel, come to take him down and incarcerate him.

However, as the boat neared, it began to pull up to the side, killing the oppressive light it had shone upon him moments before. Eventually, it had pulled over parallel to Thalgan's position, close enough to allow the Mandalorian to board.

Standing at the starboard side was a very large man who held an outstretched hand for Thalgan to grab onto. The Mandalorian did so without hesitation, feeling the man's immense strength as he was pulled over the edge of the boat and onto the deck.

Regaining his balance, Thalgan looked up at the man. "Thalgan Vash, I presume. My name is Veshi Basara. We're getting out of here, now." With that, he made a waving motion with his hand, letting the boat captain know to turn around and sail away to the north.

"It's good to have you back. Members of the Corporation have been talking about your exploits. It's good to finally meet the man behind the murmurs." Thalgan couldn't help but plaster a smirk across his face. He felt rather proud of himself that he was attracting the attention that he was.

For now, however, he was primarily focused on being free of Volary.
 
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