nova_wolf
01-19-2003, 08:11 AM
No Jedi. No bounty hunters.
This is meant to be for the scoundrels amongst us (there are enough of us!)
Hope the idea is awelcome one!
Basis:
Its EU time, approx. during time of Thrawn's reign.
The Smugglers Alliance is strong, with the great figureheads of Lando Calrissian, Mara Jade and Talon Karrde paving the way for a brighter, more legal, future.
But events on the rim in Imperial held spce are turning many redeemed smugglers back to their old way, with more fury and violence than ever before.
A fracture is appearing in the Alliance, and its threatening to widen and split the coalition.
Our journey starts on the Rim in a nebula housing a well known fuel stop for cargo runners and scoundrels alike....
Knew I should have said no at the time.
Terot was just too quiet. Even when his captain said he wanted to stop off in the Capital's Graveyard, he just sat there and shrugged his shoulders.
He figured it was his bit in life. Stereotypes denoted his fate. The large guy of the five man crew of the cargo transport Star Scream. He had the muscles, his captain the brains, and everyone else the nerves.
That much he had figured out on the short while he had known the crew. All you could fairly figure out after just six weeks on the unsurprisingly clapped out Corellian stock frieghter - a YT1300 no less. Modified, of course.
Sterotypes - he was forever surrounded by them. His life was one.
Running cargo across the galaxy for just enough to live on and continue his corellian captian's probably genetic need to boost his ship's speed. Corellians - go figure!
They way his 6ft4 bulk had come to join this pitiful band of space rats - what else.
I wanted to travel the stars and see the galaxy. Become a man.
Again with the stereotypes.
'Heh.' A tall dark and scarred male called to him from the bar, where he had been all night with some dubious female from Alderaan, or so she said. 'You may as well head back to the ship with the others.'
So in grossed in disecting the Universe in terms of lablling, he had missed his crew mates dissapear out to the bar's doors. They stood, waiting for him, as they usually did.
Well, the lithe ones must always wait for the big ones - thats the universe.
His mind continued along this track of thought until her returned to the ship, his crew mates again leaving who they percieved as the hulking dumb dumb to his thoughts.
The night was quiet, even the captain and his Alderaanian pick-up failing to disturb him. But then morning came, and with it, one of the universe's great stereotypical events - the Law versus Smugglers.
He kept his usual cool exterior, mistaken by others as the lack of capaicty to realise what was occuring around him.
He knew, he just wasn't fussed. It happened rarely enough, but round here, there was a twist. The Smugglers were the Law.
Some group had started to work for the Empire as marshalls. No one would explain anymore - they said he needed fill what little space I had in my head with intracacies I could never fathom.
This is meant to be for the scoundrels amongst us (there are enough of us!)
Hope the idea is awelcome one!
Basis:
Its EU time, approx. during time of Thrawn's reign.
The Smugglers Alliance is strong, with the great figureheads of Lando Calrissian, Mara Jade and Talon Karrde paving the way for a brighter, more legal, future.
But events on the rim in Imperial held spce are turning many redeemed smugglers back to their old way, with more fury and violence than ever before.
A fracture is appearing in the Alliance, and its threatening to widen and split the coalition.
Our journey starts on the Rim in a nebula housing a well known fuel stop for cargo runners and scoundrels alike....
Knew I should have said no at the time.
Terot was just too quiet. Even when his captain said he wanted to stop off in the Capital's Graveyard, he just sat there and shrugged his shoulders.
He figured it was his bit in life. Stereotypes denoted his fate. The large guy of the five man crew of the cargo transport Star Scream. He had the muscles, his captain the brains, and everyone else the nerves.
That much he had figured out on the short while he had known the crew. All you could fairly figure out after just six weeks on the unsurprisingly clapped out Corellian stock frieghter - a YT1300 no less. Modified, of course.
Sterotypes - he was forever surrounded by them. His life was one.
Running cargo across the galaxy for just enough to live on and continue his corellian captian's probably genetic need to boost his ship's speed. Corellians - go figure!
They way his 6ft4 bulk had come to join this pitiful band of space rats - what else.
I wanted to travel the stars and see the galaxy. Become a man.
Again with the stereotypes.
'Heh.' A tall dark and scarred male called to him from the bar, where he had been all night with some dubious female from Alderaan, or so she said. 'You may as well head back to the ship with the others.'
So in grossed in disecting the Universe in terms of lablling, he had missed his crew mates dissapear out to the bar's doors. They stood, waiting for him, as they usually did.
Well, the lithe ones must always wait for the big ones - thats the universe.
His mind continued along this track of thought until her returned to the ship, his crew mates again leaving who they percieved as the hulking dumb dumb to his thoughts.
The night was quiet, even the captain and his Alderaanian pick-up failing to disturb him. But then morning came, and with it, one of the universe's great stereotypical events - the Law versus Smugglers.
He kept his usual cool exterior, mistaken by others as the lack of capaicty to realise what was occuring around him.
He knew, he just wasn't fussed. It happened rarely enough, but round here, there was a twist. The Smugglers were the Law.
Some group had started to work for the Empire as marshalls. No one would explain anymore - they said he needed fill what little space I had in my head with intracacies I could never fathom.