Wampo Groba
Mar 28th, 2008, 08:02:48 AM
(Continued from here (http://sw-fans.net/forum/showthread.php?t=17628))
The luxury yacht was berthed at one of the landing zones in the Corellian district of Nar Shaddaa. It had arrived during the night in the relatively quiet neighborhood, and hadn't drawn much attention therefore. But now, that daylight filtered in from above and basked the ship in occasional rays of sun, the ship's gleaming surface and apparent unusualness had started to draw more than just the odd curious glance.
But everytime one of the too curious onlookers had tried to sneak closer, dark shapes had detached from the shadows around the ship and their menacing presence, combined with a few well-aimed blastershots, had convinced everyone that this one was strictly off-limits.
The nature of those shapes was enough to tell anyone local who they would have to deal with if they took a wrong step - they were Gotal, and the symbols etched into their shoulder plates identified them as belonging to the Earl - Wampo Groba, a local black marketeer who had carved himself a little underground empire and seemed to have earned the respect of almost all the various local criminal associations in the process. Not a person to cross if one valued one's life.
During the night hours, there had been occasional high-pitched shrieks and screams and odd warbling roars and grunts coming from the ship, despite its probable soundproofing. Occasionally there had been noises of something crashing against the durasteel plating, and the ship had bounced and wobbled slightly during much of the time, but the Gotals had not seen cause for worry. They had been instructed to ignore anything but what was happening outside the ship, regardless of what they might hear.
But Gotals were empaths. The emotions they'd picked up from the two occupants of the ship had caused them to wince and shudder, and three of them had to be relieved of their duty and replaced by others because they'd not been able to deal with the onslaught. The rest had endured, with trembling knees and terrible grimacing faces, to do their assigned duty.
And for the last half an hour, it had all been silent. It seemed their boss was asleep, or resting at least, and the lady he was with seemed equally at rest. Now only something of a collective sigh escaped from the 16 Gotal guards at random intervals. All was quiet.
The luxury yacht was berthed at one of the landing zones in the Corellian district of Nar Shaddaa. It had arrived during the night in the relatively quiet neighborhood, and hadn't drawn much attention therefore. But now, that daylight filtered in from above and basked the ship in occasional rays of sun, the ship's gleaming surface and apparent unusualness had started to draw more than just the odd curious glance.
But everytime one of the too curious onlookers had tried to sneak closer, dark shapes had detached from the shadows around the ship and their menacing presence, combined with a few well-aimed blastershots, had convinced everyone that this one was strictly off-limits.
The nature of those shapes was enough to tell anyone local who they would have to deal with if they took a wrong step - they were Gotal, and the symbols etched into their shoulder plates identified them as belonging to the Earl - Wampo Groba, a local black marketeer who had carved himself a little underground empire and seemed to have earned the respect of almost all the various local criminal associations in the process. Not a person to cross if one valued one's life.
During the night hours, there had been occasional high-pitched shrieks and screams and odd warbling roars and grunts coming from the ship, despite its probable soundproofing. Occasionally there had been noises of something crashing against the durasteel plating, and the ship had bounced and wobbled slightly during much of the time, but the Gotals had not seen cause for worry. They had been instructed to ignore anything but what was happening outside the ship, regardless of what they might hear.
But Gotals were empaths. The emotions they'd picked up from the two occupants of the ship had caused them to wince and shudder, and three of them had to be relieved of their duty and replaced by others because they'd not been able to deal with the onslaught. The rest had endured, with trembling knees and terrible grimacing faces, to do their assigned duty.
And for the last half an hour, it had all been silent. It seemed their boss was asleep, or resting at least, and the lady he was with seemed equally at rest. Now only something of a collective sigh escaped from the 16 Gotal guards at random intervals. All was quiet.