A Larger Sum - Scrapper's Auction
This thread is open to all - no restrictions on combat.
Bracca
2300
This thread is open to all - no restrictions on combat.
Bracca
2300
The Vahla was, for the first time in a while, sure of his progress in life. His homeworld of Rhen Var had asked him to represent them on the Galactic Stage - choosing to end their isolationism for fear of an impending invasion. The fears where unfounded, but nonetheless Gram took the calling seriously. Their application to join the Free Worlds Alliance had yet to be formally accepted, so the mystic went about an alternative persuasion of credit gathering.
Bounty Hunting work, and this time, something more. He needed modifications for his ship, and an entirely new vessel for an enterprise in the making. It was his plan to retrofit a freighter into a makeshift workshop. It would need to be a bargain buy - not because he was strapped for credits, but rather because he was scrapping the majority of the interior for space, and customer service. And to that end, the best place for a trodden down vessel - the Outer Rim. Specifically, he had chosen Bracca.
The Scrapper’s Guild had in its possession an entire planet of derelict ships. Not all the vessels that passed through their processing planets where dismantled. The salvageable vessels were stripped or sold as is in an auction open to any and all. The issue; it was also an open auction to the seedier dregs of society. All the better, however, for the new businessman.
He’d already docked the Mantis on one of their pads, and made his across Platform Ceti. The shanty town of crates and boxes, cut and fused together with ancient ships for major buildings and offices made for the scrapper’s auction facility. There was one or two blocks worth of living quarters before an abrupt wall dividing the area. The auction items were held inside a well defended enclosure.
At the entranceway was a single laser gate guarded by several mercenaries, armed scrappers and tamed kath hounds. Laser turrets lined the wall. The line was nonexistent, so he walked up. The checkpoint guard was absolutely oblivious to Gram’s presence until at last he tapped on the metal bars separating them.
“Ea?! Qa ohk dan circaa toe?”
(Oh?! What are you doing here?)
Gram gently raised his credit chips, but the Twi’lek shook his head smugly.
“Gan sahak tlaran Tum'eni ro Vlakesa…”
(We don’t take Republic Credits…)
The Vahla frowned momentarily, before his eyes twinkled, lowering his hand to his second pouch and drawing out a hefty sum of druggat. The clattering could be heard throughout the entrance with a faint echo as the Twi’lek’s grin widened from ear to ear.
“Enough to cover my entrance fee?”
“Ka! T'u ir kuces... toe san ar fic a tersa, fel? Qaon toyid gan fa'kan dan?”
(Yes! More than enough… for me to have a tip, eh? How can we help you?)
“I’m looking for a ship, I need specifics. Happen to have any mining vessels?”
The Twi’lek began rapidly tapping on the computer terminal in front of him, no doubt searching through the manifest. The search returned with a green light - Gram could see it in the reflection from the goggles on his forehead.
“Ka, gan fic a Y-8 vashna ji t'arija bo ji fiyao- n'irs v'edigila. Mtan ohk tilsa bo Josis Cresh.”
(Yes, we have a Y-8 missing the majority of the port-side plating. Should be part of Lot C.)
“Thank you. Keep the change.”
Gram whisked past the security gate before it reactivated, spurning the advance for more money. The Vahla wasn’t fluent in the exchange rate between Druggats and GCS, but it didn’t take a genius to figure out he’d overtipped. The bidding area was surprisingly lavish compared to the exterior, with a wide fur rug covering the durasteel floor, and various weapons and armor set up along the walls. The main stage was created with stacked motivators, upon which a scrapper stood without his gear on, raising himself to the podium.
The microphone tinged to life.
“The auction will begin in twenty. Please keep to yourselves in the meantime.”
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