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| Striking a Deal on Vorzyd V | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Sep 16 2009, 03:04 PM (140 Views) | |
| =MK= | Sep 16 2009, 03:04 PM Post #1 |
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Outer Rim Territories Vorzyd V Vorzyd Party Palace Hotel Approximately 1 a.m. The Vorzyd Party Palace Hotel wasn't the biggest hotel with the best star rating but as its name suggested, the staff and holidaymakers there knew how to have one hell of a party. There was one bar in the hotel - the Vorzyd Party Palace Hotel's Drink All You Can Cantina - which served dangerously low priced cocktails, shots and other highly intoxicating beverages. Private Jerome Hiddick, a Human soldier in the Sovereign Hegemony, and a group of three of his friends from the hotel just around the corner (The Eclipse) had been taking advantage of the Vorzyd Party Palace Hotel's Drink All You Can Cantina since 9 p.m. the previous evening. Now it was four hours later, around 1 a.m. the following morning and all of them were a little worse for wear. Private Jerome Hiddick was going to wish he'd never left his friends to let them go back to their hotel around the corner, drank all those shots, flirted all night with that pretty Twi'lek and took her back to her hotel suite. Alone in a hotel he shouldn't even be in, with a Twi'lek a year too young for him and more drunk than he should be, Jerome was in for a nasty surprise. All kinds of landspeeder taxis, civilian vehicles and even a few sport versions were parked alongside the kerb outside the Vorzyd Party Palace Hotel. In between two of the landspeeders was a repulsortruck. The lumbering machine was a little worse for wear and was very out of place amongst the other luxury vehicles. People - the vast majority of whom were drunk - wandered by and meandered through the rows of stationary vehicles. The bald headed, cigarra smoking man sat in the cabin of the repulsortruck and seemed oblivious to what was going on. There he sat, reading his newspaper, inhaling then exhaling the odd lungful of smoke from his cigarra and listening to some of the typical high pace, high energy party music that was broadcast on just about every radio station in this area of Vorzyd's nightclub district. "Oh be careful Jerome!" Hysterically laughed the Twi'lek who was accompanying the Sovereign Hegemony Private as he fell upon the bonnet of the repulsortruck. The second Jerome hit the bonnet of the truck, the driver switched off the radio. "Sorry!" Slurred Jerome as he scraped himself back from the vehicle and up the access ramp to the reception of the Party Palace. There he and the Twi'lek half stood, clinging onto each other to make sure neither of them were capable of collapsing in their drunken state. As they asked for 'the key for room 201' from the worried looking Human female receptionist, the repulsortruck's driver heard every word they tried to say. In silence, his stern, dark yellow gaze followed the raunchy Twi'lek and Jerome as they began making their way up the spiral staircase to room 201. The minute they'd turned out of sight, the repulsortruck driver sprang out of his vehicle. A group of party goers actually stopped and marvelled at him - he had muscles on top of his muscles and all of them were bulging. The plain black, skin tight t-shirt he wore looked ready to burst at the seams and begin overflowing with sheer muscle mass. The plain black combat trousers he wore were baggy, but the two Vorzyd men in the group of passing party goers assumed they'd be huge too. They nudged each other and exclaimed 'look at the size of him!' as the hulking repulsortruck driver, who was far and away more muscular than the two of them combined, headed towards the Party Palace. It wasn't that the men themselves were slim, in fact they were quite athletically built as well - it's just this bald had the figure of a professional bodybuilder on all kinds of performance enhancing drugs. For such a superhumanly muscle bound, intimidatingly tall man, he moved with the grace and fluidity of someone much smaller. Within moments he had walked by the receptionist, who didn't even ask him were he was going. The driver kept his head down and the right side of his face covered to conceal the Sith tattoo where it was most prominent, but the receptionist had a good view of the rest of the tattoo which ran up his tree trunk sized arm. Meanwhile inside the hotel room, Jerome was just getting into his stride with the Twi'lek. The two of them had decided not to have another drink and instead they had fallen into bed with one another. They were still there now, giggling to themselves as the Twi'lek sat atop the Private and rested her slender hands on his chest. The two of them kissed and began undressing one another. Unfortunately for them, their antics didn't get the chance to last long. Poor Jerome must have been heartbroken. He'd spent all night trying to woo this hot young Twi'lek into bed and now he wasn't even going to get the chance to see her breasts. Before the Twi'lek had lifted her skimpy dress up and over her head, the hotel room door burst open and slammed closed again, nearly taken off its hinges by the brute force of the man entering - none other than the repulsortruck driver. "Oh shit!" Squealed Jerome, his voice seemingly demasculinsed by the sight of such a huge, raging, testosterone filled man. What worried the Sovereign Private even more, was that he recognised him. "Darth Mendacium!" Before Jerome could even get the Twi'lek off of him and run for his life, Darth Mendacium had picked her up around the back of her neck like a toy doll and threw her against the wall with such force that she could have gone straight through it. A sickening loud crunch was heard and the Twi'lek girl was dead. Her neck was broken so badly by the impact with the bedroom wall that her head was limply hanging on. Jerome tried to get to his feet, but was stopped short by Darth Mendacium's size twelve boot, which kicked him flat footed in the chest and pinned him to the wall. "What the-" The Private was silenced by a vicious backhand from his assailant, which sent most of his front teeth flying from his mouth in a spray of blood. "Shut the FUCK up Private or I'll rip your head off your fucking shoulders and piss down your throat." Snarled Mendacium, his face contorted like a mad man. "Please no, God n-" Jerome tried to cry out, now even more terrified because Darth Mendacium recognised him, but tears streamed down his face. "Get up and shut up. Get up!" Mendacium commanded through gritted teeth as his entire bin-lid-sized hand clasped around Jerome's throat so tightly that his fingers and thumb touched at the back of his neck. "Here's the deal," Mendacium spoke quickly, knowing he didn't have much time. He couldn't keep hold of Jerome like this for long, otherwise the Private was going to suffocate or his eyes were going to pop out of their sockets, "I'm gonna put you in that dead bitch's suitcase and carry you outta here." The grip around Jerome's throat was relinquished and the Private fell sideways onto the bed, wheezing for breath after being held a foot off the ground in one hand by his neck. As he lay there, praying, crying and struggling to breathe, Mendacium hurried around the two bedroomed apartment room to search for the dead Twi'lek's suitcase. Soon enough, he found it. Jerome was lifted off the bed, forced into the suitcase, sealed inside, then threatened to 'not make a fucking sound' if he wanted to keep his genitals and stay alive. Darth Mendacium managed to pass by reception carrying the suitcase without any hassle. Everyone around him was too drunk, too scared or too envious of his foreboding physique to even look at him and Jerome made no noise to attract any attention. The back of Mendacium's repulsortruck cargo compartment was opened and the suitcase containing Jerome was flung inside. "We're going for a drive, Private Hiddick. The same rule applies as before: keep the fucking noise down or I might accidentally swerve too fast around a corner of the road," explained Mendacium, just loud enough for his captive to hear above the cabin radio "I'd hate to see you thrown out of the back of this truck at 80 klicks (kilometres) an hour and collide with an oncoming landspeeder. You don't want that, do you?" Jerome didn't even reply. Mendacium could just about hear him whimpering from the suitcase, rested neatly upon a pile of crates, boxes and other random containers inside the truck. He'd placed tonnes of them in the truck earlier that evening, so nobody would bother to pull him over and check inside every single one of them. The repulsortruck lurched forward as it was driven into gear and started chugging away down the road on its journey away from the Vorzyd Party Palace Hotel. Jerome had no idea how long had passed, but it seemed like an eternity before the truck stopped. From inside his suitcase prison, the terrified Private heard the truck door open, close and then Mendacium's heavy footsteps approach. The suitcase was zipped wide open and the Private was dazzled by light as he was pulled out of it. Before his vision even had time to clear and become re-accustomed to the light outside of the suitcase, Jerome was already being threatened by his former Colonel Mendacium. "I remember you Jerome Hiddick and I can tell you remember me. I've been watching you for months and I know everything there is to know about you. Where you live, how old you are, what hand you wipe your fucking ass with after you've had a shit. I know EVERYTHING and I don't play games, Private, so don't think you're part of one. You're part of something very important to me. I need you to find out whoever's responsible for providing the Sovereign Hegemony with their starships. If you don't know who that is, then find out and find out soon. When you've found out, you better remember that fucking name. If you DON'T remember when I come back to get you - and don't worry, I WILL come back to get you - and ask you to tell me the name... you better have the right answer. You've got two weeks, Private. DON'T fail me." To make sure Hiddick had heard his message, Mendacium kicked him hard in the ribs. The Private wheezed and began mumbling an affirmative. By the time he risked opening his eyes again, Mendacium was nowhere to be seen. The repulsortruck was still there, but the former Colonel had vanished. Private Hiddick stood up and looked around, thinking he had no idea where he was. It took a second for him to register in his mind since he was still drunk, but when he realised he was shocked. Jerome was stood in an alleyway opposite The Eclipse Hotel - the hotel he was staying at. |
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