General > Graveyard
Stars & Salvage PBF - IC Thread
Gargulec:
Elizabeth muffled a yawn, and laid down her luggage on the floor, and sat down next to it, closing her eyes. She was really weary, and was really hoping for the chance to get some real sleep sometime soon. She was not really paying attention to the salesman anyway, for her involvement in the purchase was painfully small compared to the one of her much wealthier companions.
If you did not know her, you would probably find it surprising that this lithe, slightly short women who rarely left Doran's side was in fact a veteran of one of the most elite non-Legion formations in the Federation. Of course, there were some give-aways, but none too obvious. Somebody interested in military gear and lifestyle could probably notice that the tight, formfitting bodyglove she was wearing was in fact standard ODI issue sealant sheath, worn under armour to seal eventual breaches, and despite being not very modes nor really comfortable- it made the wearer sweat like crazy- also usually worn off-duty as well, for it drastically cut down the time necessary to get yourself into the battle gear or that her hair were cut in standard military fashion. Somebody gifted with good sight could also possibly notice the stock of a military rifle sticking out from Elizabeth's luggage bag, and that was probably the last clue available on her origin.
She yawned again, this time failing to muffle it in time.
'Sorry...'
Silhar:
"Ze sleep ov yours vazn't too good, ??????? ?", Matvieyevich utters silently, adressing Elizabeth, standing somewhere nearby. After a few seconds, he yawns as well, leaning his back against the wall. It appears that his interest in a purchase is relatively low. But, he decides to ask a question anyway - just for his own curiosity.
"Vould ye mind telling uz, zir, vhich ?????????? did thiz ship belong to before ?"
After a while, he adds, smiling keenly.
"And... vhere iz ze catch ?"
Spoiler (click to show/hide)I may use my telepathic talents to check if the man will be lying when talking about "a catch". At GM's discretion, I would like to do so.
S.K. Ren:
"Yes, that is the proper question. Where is the catch?. If you don't mind, I would like to look over all the paperwork you have regarding this vessel's service records, repair history, a list of all renovations. If there is anything we'll have to fix ourselves, I'd like to do it before we get stranded in space." Evedro asked. His small frame left him unimposing but he had enough confidence to make up for it. Brushing his scraggly brown hair from his face, he pulled out a small notepad and began making notes of the exterior of the ship.
Xander Morhaime:
"Pardon, sir... which what?" the manager asked, apparently not understanding Yurij's thick accent.
"There is no catch, sirs. Granted, the ship has had the majority of its weapon systems removed and its thrusters and power plants swapped out as per decommissioning regulations, but it still is armed, as I've mentioned, with four hardpoint turrets. I would expect the larger cargo hold doesn't do structure strength any favours, but only if it's getting shot at. We don't exactly have a history of the ship on hand here - the vessel itself was confiscated to cover the previous owner's debts, anything beyond the most obvious changes is anyone's guess. I would just like to remind sirs that ships in pristine condition, with a meticulously kept service record and maintenance history, tend to cost many times more than what sirs will be paying. You get what you pay for, as the saying goes."
S.K. Ren:
"Wonderful" Evedro sigh sarcastically. "Well the sooner we sign the papers, the sooner I can give her a rundown."
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