Home of The Meat King

[The Meat King]

The Lemmens Meat Factory was the largest meat processing plant in the whole of Coruscant, it was also the best selling meat and poultry company within every supermarket and grocery store on the city sized planet.

It was a common household name, Lemmens and it was a name that was counted as upstanding and genuine, they served the community in the meat veriety extremely well and had done for 30 years.

Lemmens, the company, was trusted.

The factory generated no less than 20 billion Coruscant credits every year and its profits were still booming as Lemmens progressed in its interplanet market. Thyferra, Bespin and so fourth were beginning to hire the services and buy the meat that was processed by Lemmens.

By word of mouth Lemmens were the best there was in Game, Poultry and even fish in some sectors, the factory was becoming a major corporation in the galaxy, at least in the meat business. The company had their hands in other pies around Coruscant also. Technologies and speeders were a few areas they had bought a share in and with Lemmens name on the deeds even those areas were growing streadily.

Lemmens as a person had hardly ever been seen. In the early years he was a well built, ginger haired man who had a rich smile and a hearty voice, advertising his young company on holovision and on live air.

In the later years, perhaps 15 years into the factories life, he was never seen, ever and this was slightly suspicious to some but many blew it off as nothing, it was the meat that was selling good, not Lemmens pearly smile. He was given the name, now common knowledge; The Meat King which seemed to be never disputed, it was now he name, not Lemmens as it once was, but The Meat King.

However, this is where things went slightly strange behind the the viel of Bantha and Vein, Lemmens was now quite a different man, he was known as ' The Meat King' even to his closest accociets and he was one never to cross with.

The pies he had fingers in had gone rotten, and Lemmens with it, the crisp white front Coruscant saw was simply that, a front. Behind the scenes it was quite different and it was about as white and crisp as Lemmens butt. The Meat King was no longer well built and pearly, the man was now extremely large, large enough to be bound to his bed through extreme weight. To much of his own product no doubt.

This of course was the reason for his disappearance.

He paid his assistants to do everything for him. He had a large staff that weighted on him hand and foot, pardon the pun. Washed him, fed him, clothed him and even rolled him to the bathroom from time to time. He mealy shouted his requirements and orders and anyone who wanted to keep there body and not have it eaten by the general public, did what they were told. The Meat Kings inner circle were extremely loyal.

' Where is my Bantha meat you frelling bastards?! where?!' He roared, his voice booming across his apartment, situated above the meat factory floors. ' I have not been fed and washed today, where is my staff, Bishop?!' He bellowed further, the glass in the room rocking slightly.

Bishop was his right hand man, a reluctant right hand but he did everything outside of the factory that The Meat King, Lemmens, could not do himself for obvious reasons. The duties often required a thick stomach and a hard bargaining tone, the explanation for this would come later.

Lets just say the pies had gone rotten, so much so, that if it came out through the factories crispy white front, The meat King and his colleagues would be thrown in jail or rolled in Lemmens case, for a good number of years.

His bellowing disturbed the staff, they rushed around him as fast as they could, the was basin came out, and the women began to wash his heaving belly, something extremely disgusting the worst job in the word to the worker women there at the factory.

' BISHOP! He called once more.

[The Meat King]

'Mr.Lemmens sir, Mr. Bishop is downstairs in the factory, shall i go call him for you sir?' It was the head worker women that spoke up above the swishing and swashing that was going on between The Meat Kings legs as the women cleaned his under side, a simply vile position to be in for the women, one of pleasure of course for Lemmens.

' Of course you stupid bitch, what do i pay you for? I know it's not to stand around and do frell all, call him for me, now. He and i have to discuss matters of importance!' He roared violently at her, spitting up bits of cooked bird that could of been there for months. The worker woman was deeply offended by the way The Meat King spoke to her, she always was, he always spoke to his staff in the same way, such a vile tone.

But one money could afford.

' Yes Mr.Lemmens' With that, she gritted her teeth, smiled and strode out of his rather ornate bedroom a silent expletive sounding in her mind. How she hated him, but dare not to question him.

Below The Meat Kings plush apartment was the processing meat factory. It was filled with butchers, assistants, packing staff and all the employees needed to run a meat processing facility. It was icy cold in the factory because the meat needed to be kept chilled and so most of the staff were wearing thick shirts, aprons and wooly hats to keep warm.

The factory bustled with con vier belts, meat hooks carrying dead carcasses of animals and sounds of cleavers chopping meat. The place was actually quite dark and dingy, the factory provided no light but artificial and so it remained quite a eerily nasty place. The smell was at best, terrible so that made it no easier. A smell of dead flesh circled the hyper air conditioning while blood splattered up walls, doors and work surfaces crossed out the nice view.

Contradicting Lemmen's great reputation for being a clean respectable company, the place was essentially a tip and had the hygienic factor of the city dump. But those who didn't know, didn't hurt them right?

The head worker woman, Berrel, not that The Meat King had ever learned her name ,walked down the spiral staircase that connected The Meat Kings apartment to the top level of the factory. She was looking for Bishop who was showing a potential client around the meat factory, one that might be buying a large quantity of meat from the factory to a newly opened supermarket in the Coco district regualy. Berrel liked Bishop for some odd reason, she thought it was perhaps because they shared the same sentiments against The Meat King, they both just put up with him, or feared him.

Berrel stopped one of the butchers assistants as he carried a leg of Bantha from a refrigerator.

'Do you know where Mr.Bishop is Frankee?' She asked smiling, she always thought Frankee was cute.

'Yeah Mrs.Fanforee, hes showing the owner of Greenflowers around the refrigeration unit downstairs, why? is The Meat King yelling again?'

' Keep your voice down Frankee! god knows who might be listening! yes hes calling for Mr.Bishop and hes in a foul mood! Stalking off, skirt raised to avoid her getting blood on it she ventured downstairs to find The Meat Kings right hand.

[Bishop]

Bishop slowly circled the man sitting in the chair.

"Now what is this I hear? You, as the owner of Greenflowers, are actually considering withdrawing your contract with us?"

He stopped pacing in front of the man and the cold lifelessness of the mask that Bishop wore slowly turned to face him. The man shook his head vigorously and yet to no avail. His mouth was taped and his neck was tied back with cord to the chair. The rest of his body was securely bound as well, he was not going anywhere fast. Bishop's leather gloves creaked as he clenched and unclenched his fingers.

"Word also has it that you've let some of your employees slip... information concerning our contracts. I'm sorry but the Meat King can't allow such... liberties."

His voice sounded like grating metal coming through the mask. The sweat running down the temples of the bound man stopped quickly in the cold climate of the freezer. His breath came in short puffs of white smoke. Bishop's hand went to the sword hilt hanging loosely from his belt and the man's eyes widened slowly, the pupils dilating in fear.

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK

Bishop turned about fluidly, his eyes beneath the mask rolled in surprise and frustration. He could feel the veins protruding from his skin on his face pulsing quickly. The deal was almost finished and someone had to show up now?

"Come in..."

[The Meat King]

Berrel hated going down into the refrigeration unit within the factory particular when Mr.Bishop was conducting his concerns down there.

It was not the fact it was bitterly cold within the confines of the place, it was not the fact that it was eerily terrible and dark with minimal artificial light, it was the fact that when Mr.Bishop was down here doing The Meat King's dirty work, it not always meant that the blood upon the ground and tiles walls was simply the drippings of a carcass, sometimes it was human.

That was what made it extremely horrible to venture down there. Not to mention the haunting walk from one end of the Unit corridor to the other where 7 extremely large freezers had been built. Blood was spattered up walls and doors, flesh of all kinds slipped on the ground which made it hard to walk, it was like something out of a horror movie.

When a refrigerator was closed, locked and no one was inside collecting meat to be processed a red light would flick on and off upon the doors. One knew when a fridge was being occupied, the light instead of being red, would be green and it would be a soild green, un flashing.

Berrel, The Meat King's head worker woman, still lifting her skirt, made her way to the last of the gigantic freezers. Its door was partly closed and she could hear muffled voices through the durasteel door. The voices seemed threatening, she knew exactly what she would be met with as she ventured in, she had seen it several times.

She reluctantly knocked on the door.

"Come in..."

She had trouble opening the freezer door, the freezers engine had been working over time as it compensated for the open door and so large bits of ice had built over time blocking the door, it was hard enough to open. Eventually pushing the ice clear she entered the more chilly compartment of the freezer and in between hanging corpses of Bantha and other free range animals were Bishop and aman bound to a chair.

She hesitated.

'Er...My apologies Mr Bishop But The Mea- i meant Mr.Lemmens would like to see you, he says it is urgent.' She looked from Bishop to the look on the Greenflowers owner, he looked desperate, but she could do nothing if she wanted to keep her life.

[Silvo]

Silvo flicked a few credits to the driver as he opened the taxi door and stepped out into the beating sun of Coruscant. In front of him stood fairly short building complex which stretched to Silvo's left and right, making it a pretty big, low to the ground building.

Silvo adjusted the black bag on his shoulder and walked out towards the front door, adjusting his sunglasses and looking to the front door. He had been here once before, called out fo nowhere to do "business" with a man known as 'the meat king'. He was not able to see the actual employer, instead told the job by a man named Bishop. The man had thoroughly freaked Silvo out, his odd facemask seemed to contain an infinite amount of hate and Silvo felt that it would burst out to him any second. The mysterious man, however, payed him handsomely for the job, and he was not about to turn down another chance of a big payday.

His previous job had been given to him spontaneously, maybe the man had seen his work before. After being frisked for about 30 minutes, he was given a job to "deal with" a man who wanted to cut off ties with the meat king. Doing this with little trouble, he was wired a hefty sum of 70,000 credits, the most he had been payed in his career.

After being sent another message from Bishop on his comlink, he packed his bag and set off to the complex again. Now about 10 feet from the front door's guards, about 6 guards all kept their blaster rifles handy and said,

"Bag down and against the wall."

Silvo silently complyed as the guards began to frisk him, taking off one weapon after another.

"A blaster pistol in his belt, a rifle in his bag, 5 grenades, a vibroblade, and a knife to top it off in his boot. I think we'll hang onto these." said the guard jokingly.

Silvo straightened his shirt and glared at the guards, stepping into the complex and feeling a rush of cold. One guard stepped in front of him, leading him to a lobby as another pointed his blaster down and walked behind Silvo. The front guard pointed at a fluffy couch and said,

"Wait here."

Silvo sat, leaning back and placing his hands behind his head as the guards went to call in his arrival.

[Carl Simons]

'I'LL KILL HIM! Im gonna' get his frelling body and tear it in two, im gonna bloody rip him to shreds so bad, you mark my words, Simon, you mark my words!' He spoke out with such rage his eyes looked almost demonic. When Carl got upset, you left him alone to his own dealings, go near him and you might just lose a hand, or worse.

Carl was extremely adept in the handlings of a Katana, a weapon given to every one of The Meat Kings Inncer Circle. He could use the weapon to his advantage and could use it well.

Simons would think little of it to slice of a vital part of ones body if he or she angered him or refused to give him what he wanted. Carl had little feeling to anyone outside The Meat King's Inner Circle and of course, he loved his brother, Bishop.

This time however he had been beaten and quite badly, blood freely dripped from a head wound upon his forehead and his bisep had been torn open by what looked like ether a lightsaber or a blaster bolt and Carl was extremely frelled of about his defeat, it happned rarely. Carl was the 'Left' hand of The Meat King and noone in there right mind dared to mess with him, not unless they had something to fall back on.

Leaning over a sink in the factories bathroom he slowly washed the blood from his face, it was simply caked in the red fluid. He was raging with retribution and the damage on the sink showed his feelings where he had sliced downwards with his katana and had cut a chunk of it off. 'I'll have him Simon, i'll have his face for this, you see if i dont!' He raged, his eyes stung with how much anger coursed through his body, this man had a extremely bad temper, thats why he had been hired.

Looking up to view himself in the mirror he paused to see his face. it was to much to handle and he launched his fist into the glass shattering it down into the blood stained sink. His hand was now also bleeding, but not badly.

' Does Viosa know of my defeat, Simon?' Viosa being the real name of The Meat King.

"Yes Car, hes assembling the Inner Cirle, whoever did this to you Carl, hes in for a hell of a battering, trust me, Mr.Lemmens is in a foul mood over it. Who dares to beat The Meat Kings men?"

' That Sin did obviously!' Carl said, his anger calming slightly knowing that The Meat King was gathering his men to work out a counter hit. ' We will beat the Sin and whoever hes working for into the ground for this, NOONE steps on my toes and certianly noone treds on Viosa's shoes ether, not without facing the concequences.'

He smiled menacingly.

' That kids going down, he don't know who hes messed with...'

[Turcyn Rorke]

“Frell!”

That was the only response Turcyn could mouth as his comlink buzzed from the night stand. Even after burying his head into the pillow, he still couldn’t seem to escape Bishop’s galling voice. Climbing out of bed, he sluggishly crawled into a pair of pants and shirt; both of which had reeked of the night before. Snatching the comlink, he finally gave the frantic Bishop the reassurance that he was on his way. He pocketed the device and began towards the door.

***

Thirty minutes later he found himself at the front entrance of the plant, but for what reason he didn’t know. Bishop had mentioned something about a meeting, but other than that he was out of the loop. He neared the double-doors, the guards giving him a quick frisk before OK’ing him inside. After a few more gratuitous frisks and pat-downs he finally reached the outside of the King’s apartment, his eyes averting to the stranger seated on the couch already.

“Who’re you?”

He stated bluntly, staring soberly at Silvo.

[Silvo]

Silvo did not bother to look up, only readjusting himself on the sofa,

"What does it matter? We were both called down here, thats all I need to know."

[Turcyn Rorke]

The reply was met with an amused cackle. It was a good answer.

“Suits me.”

He flopped down on the seat next to the sniper, falling back lazily on the couch.

[Bishop]

Bishop solemnly nodded. He was tired and agitated. But the Meat King's summon was far more important than this matter. Best get it over and done with. He held out his gloved hand to the guard standing by the door and was promptly given the guard's blaster pistol.

The owner of Greenflowers shook his head franticly as Bishop held the gun before his face. His skinless lips cracked in a smile beneath the emotionless mask. Did the man think it would be that easy? Bishop flicked his wrist to the left and fired, the beam of energy searing through the man's shoulder. Bishop dropped the gun and dusted off his hands like he was finished. His machine-projected voice made all the others look about like they were the next ones on Bishop's black list.

"Leave him in here. I'll be back later."

Berrel knew when she should get out of the way. Bishop didn't give her a reply as he moved past her. The large freezer door slammed shut behind him as he made it to the stairs. He didn't bother with wondering what task the Meat King had in order for him. He would do it. Simple. Easy. But going out of the original order of things meant there would be repercussions to Bishop's agenda... He wouldn't be able to enjoy as much leisure as he would normally take with things, executions, torture, and so on. Not to mention that meeting he had scheduled to occur in soon involving plans of the Meat King's Inner Circle... And he needed another dosage...

By the time the thought of another dosage had occured he was at the door leading to the more luxurious section of the facility. The door was open before he was two meters near it and with that he stormed into the lobby. He gave note to the men sitting within but ignored them, the gaze of his mask never drifted towards them to spare them time. The Meat King had summoned him and he would appear.

He stopped before the door and stood still as the hidden scanner examined him. The keycard chained to his belt beeped and the door opened. It was so much easier to leave the apartments then to enter. But worth the time. Bishop strode through the portal and into the several chambers before the bedroom. He entered the bedroom and as always, bowed stiffly before the Meat King, Viola Lemmens, Bishop's God. His brown hair hung down over the mask as it gazed at the floor.

"I am here as you willed, Sir."

[The Meat King]

' Ah, i am pleased to see that my most loyal still take their time to attend a place next to my side.' Lemmens said sleepily

It was pure sarcasem and from The Meat King, Bishop should of expected no less. Lemmens by this time had had enough of the washing of his body and in order to shoo them three women away he slowly raised one of his monterious legs and side swiped one of the girls in the back of the head.

' Get out my presence you bitch! and take your idle minded craps with you. While your down there you can bring me my breakfast cant you or is that too difficult for you? Now frell off!'He roared, his eyes angry, he hated those women, and visa versa.

Taking this glorious opertunity to get away from him, the three women picked up their washing gear, including the basin and exited the room, one rubbing the back of her head. It was always nice to get away from the bastard.

The Meat King covered himself over with his bed sheets and then sat for a moment, his back propped up against the struggerling headboard and took in the beuty of silence.

' Now...' he began after a few moments silence. 'Is my two guests outside? if so, Bishop, could you let them in? I can only stand the smell of that Silvo for so long and so long means lets get it over and done with!' He laughed at his own joke heartily, his booming laugh rocking the room while he waited for Bishop to bring in his guests.

[Silvo]

Silvo and the stranger sat in the lobby for a bit until finally a man approached them and said,

"Follow me..."

Silvo stood up, taking his sweet time, and followed him the relatively short distance to the door. The guard put himself between Silvo and the door and sneakily punched in a code, waiting for the green light to flash and the door to open. As they entered, Silvo had an unwelcome feeling, despite the lavishly decorated room. Scanning the room, he quickly noticed the putrid form of a man on a large bed and understood why people called him "The Meat King" for more than one reason. Looking around, he saw the ominous figure of Bishop, his employer for his last job.

However, he could not take his gaze off the form of Lemmens on the bed. He had seen photographs of him before, and he seemed like a fit, clean-shaven man. Now all Silvo could see from his appearance was a disgusting, filthy, unwelcoming person who could not even walk, let alone wipe his own butt

Crossing his arms, Silvo waited for someone to tell him what was going on.

[Turcyn Rorke]

“Here we go.”

Turcyn mumbled to himself as he followed suit. Passing by the trio of irate women, he couldn’t help but grin to himself. The King sure had a knack for courtesy… yeah, right. As they winded down the hallway, they finally reached the apartment.

They had the place locked down like a prison compound. Security panels, surveillance cameras, armed guards - but then again, it all seemed necessary. Too many people hated the King, and too many people would probably give up one of their own limbs just to put an end to the fat bastard.

BREEEEP!

The door opened as the guard finally managed to put in the correct code.

As they entered, the place seemed just like always. Dark and depressing. The King’s dire stench was still present, even after his “bath” of sorts. Aside from him, the place was a bit grandiose. Luxury was an understatement when it came to the Meat King’s living conditions.

Clasping his hands behind his back, Turcyn’s eyes drifted again to the King stranded on the bed.

[Bishop]

Bishop straightened from his bow and with a simple gesture of his hand, he knew a guard would be bringing the two guests in within moments. The door opened and the two men were led in and Bishop waved away the guards. They were not needed, Lemmens trusted Bishop to be able to handle any threat well enough and he could.

He looked to the two hirelings, his mask distorted what they truly were but their statistics were mechanically conveyed from the scanners and to him, that was all that mattered. His voice came through in its usual scrambled pattern, like grating steel.

"Welcome gentlemen. You are being hired again for your performance in previous missions given you by Lemmens Company. Your pay, as usual. will be worth your future efforts and then some. If either of you have a problem with this or the way things are going so far, please notify me at this time that I might be able to kill you and give an extra kick of flavor to our next processed meat package. If you had not planned on accepting the mission you are about to be given, you should not have shown up at the doorstep."

The stoic visage of his mask looked from one man to the next and then the metallic voice continued.

"As to the mission, one of our men has recently been injured by members of the crime organization Black Sun. We here at Lemmens Company adhere to certain values that demand repayment and compensation in such matters and you two are to be our delivery boys."

[The Meat King]

' Not so fast Bishop, retribution can be served anytime, but yes it will be served soon Gentleman, you bet your bottom credit to a frelling barn dance it will' Taking a sip of wine from a goblet placed on a high side board next to his bed he smiled gently to the three, he was still reminded of his Silvo funny only moments before.

' What happned to Carl was quite unexpected and whoever mashed my 'Left Hand' up is skating on thin ice and we will be under it when it breaks. ' He broke from the sentance and was sent into a spluttering cough which went on for several moments before it died down.

Taking a sip of wine and gasping for breath The Meat King slowly recovered. This was happerning all to often, he would have to quit taking the substances or risk dieing from the stuff. Drugs and Lemmens did not go well.

' Rorke!' He roared saluting his Director with a gesture of his wine goblet . ' How are my drugs? i still hope you are coping with you post?'

[Cozen Dagett]

Had I been earning a regular wage, it’s likely that I would have eaten some of the fine produce from the Lemmens meat factory. As it was, I had never touched a single morsel. It was times like these that I was thankful for my lack of money. The company might have had a pristine reputation, but the factory didn’t live up to its standing. Even stood outside I could smell the cocktail of tissue and sinew churning in the plants bowels. It was enough to make my stomach turn, but I fought back the feeling as I approached the main entrance.

Usually I wouldn’t pick such an open method of entry, but I was here on legit terms – it would be a good idea for me to avoid pissing my employee off before I’d even met him. Looked like I was late… or unwelcome. Two men with rifles were looking at me like I’d just spat on their mothers graves. I wasn’t sure what I’d done wrong, but I would soon find out.

“Oi, you! What the frell are you doing here? This is private property.”

So much for company hospitality. Protesting didn’t do much. I tried to explain that I was here on official business, and that my arrival was expected – I guess they weren’t inclined to trust a vagrant like me. Before I knew it, I was being hauled onto the factory floor, to frell knows where. I didn’t struggle- the feeling of the rifle pressed into the back of my ribs was enough to stop that. Frankly, I was too busy focusing on repelling the nausea sweeping over me.

The innards of the factory were appalling. I’d always suspected corporate fat cats sacrificed quality for quantity, letting standards slip so they could pump out an extra shipment a day. Lemmens proved this. The place had all the trappings of a slaughterhouse. I wagered silently that some of the vats I was being pulled by weren’t filled with bantha or nerf at all. Judging by the employees treatment of visitors thus far, I’d even go so far as to suggest that past intruders had found their way into the path of the spinning blades. At this thought, my stomach turned a little quicker than normal.

Turns out I wasn’t destined for life as canned meat. The guards were kind enough to give me a few parting bruises to remember them by. I noted their facial features for future reference. Maybe I could push my fee a little higher for this one, on the grounds that just coming to the job warranted buying a bundle of bacta salves. As I took my last hit, I was forced into a room and dropped to my knees by a hit from what I guessed with the butt of a rifle.

“Just caught this one sneaking around outside.”

My head fell forward slightly, to hide the smirk growing on my lips, as I spoke:

“Shoot first, ask questions later- right?”

[Carl Simons]

Cozen had been pushed into one of the packaging rooms and the noise from the convier belts was almost unbearible. A number of factory employees knew better than to stare at whoever had been thrown into their work area for whatever reason and so effectivly ignored the new candidate for sellible meat.

They knew better than to involve themselves in 'other goings on' in the Lemmens empire, perticuly when old Carl was about, which was the exsact person who came to know about the boy first, worst luck for Cozen.

A terrible high pitched laugh sounded even above the deaferning ecoe of the packaging machines and convier belts. It was one of those cackles that you could quite happily stand up and punch from the weilder of such horrible laughter.

But of course doing that to a man such as Carl was a mistake that could loose you so much more than your pride. Carl's version of persuasion 101 was to slice of something you would most likely miss in the future. Need we say more?

“Just caught this one sneaking around outside.” Said one of the gaurds, his rifle clearly still sticking in the side of Cozen's torso.

The laughter ceased almost right away and was replaced with a smooth, like melting butter sounding voice, sarcasem litrally dripped with every word, it was horrible to listen to. ' A snoop have we now?'

Moving towards the boy upon the floor, Carly brushed his white, expensive suit and crouched down to meet the boy face to face, his long hair shrouding most of Carls face.

' We dont like snoops here do we, Simon?' he said tilting his head and grinning madly. Giving no chance for Simon, the head gaurd, to reply; ' Snoops anger me, put him through the Crushing Mills Simon, im sure he will have fun with the rest of the bones we disgard!' Waving a dismissive hand, Carl stood up and began to walk off while the gaurds began to haul Cozen up.

[Cozen Dagett]

I knew this character through reputation. Carl Simons was a nasty piece of work. Most people in the business of death and debauchery were there because they had been forced into it, whether through family or a necessity to live, like myself. Simons, on the other hand, seemed to have actively pursued becoming what he was today – or at least that was what I had heard. There was a kind of maniacal gleam in his eyes, and the way he carried himself suggested that he didn’t think he had any cause to worry. I would have bet my right arm that part of the reason he wore that suit just to invite stains on it, so that he had an excuse to get a little violent with whoever sullied his appearance.

“If I had been snooping, you wouldn’t have seen me.”

That caused a slight pause in his step. I was inviting more abuse, but at least it had caught his attention.

“Lemmens is expecting me. Said he needed a good thief.”

[Carl Simons]

OOC: Carl and Cozen will continue their part here: Monet (http://www.swforums.net/forum/showthread.php?s=&threadid=35903) So we dont clog up the thread, those in the meeting can carry on.

[Turcyn Rorke]

“Easy enough.”

Turcyn swaggered brashly as Bishop finished, and in his eyes it was just that simple. They had been assigned the role of the Meat King’s ruffians, and their sole purpose was to atone for some punk’s mistake. But despite how basic he figured the mission was, he did have one beef with it all.

Silvo.

The guy couldn’t be trusted, at least by his standards. Lemmens had some nerve to group with him a complete stranger. There were risks, and pay compensated for those risks, but working with a potential snake wasn’t a risk he’d take--at least not normally. Things were different, money was tight, and this job wasn’t something he could turn down at the moment.

“Rorke!”

The Meat King’s booming voice completely axed his train of thought. He acknowledged Lemmens’ salute with a distrait nod.

“How are my drugs? I still hope you are coping with your post?”

Fact was, they’d had some mishaps with failed shipments and penny-pinching clientele over the past few months. It wasn’t like he’d fess up to any of it. The King’s profits were still flowing in steadily, and what didn’t affect the King he wouldn’t know about.

“Coping?” he grinned smugly, “Couldn’t be any better, Mr. Lemmens.”

He was a damn good liar.

[The Meat King]

Lemmens continued to question, his drug trade was the most important, profitable trade they had coming into the corperation. Besides the meat of course. Silvo he destested and he only just managed to put up with Rorke.

This meeting was going to be over quick so Lemmens could get back to eating. ' So, what of my drugs is selling on th market best and to whome?' lemmens asked irritibly.

The fat bastard always had to ask the stupid questions.

[Turcyn Rorke]

"We're moving about twenty tons of gliteryll alone this week," he groaned, a bit uneasy with the Meat King's inquiring. His smirk had faded, and his face was now fallow with emotion.

"I have an outfit of Adarians looking to buy. If all goes well you should be sitting on a fat profit."

His facial expression finally lightened up. Though he was only half-heartily telling the truth, he wasn't lying.

[Bishop]

Rorke's facial expressions gave himself away to Bishop's sensors as they analyzed every millimeter of it. Too many things in a human face could convey their feelings. Very rarely had Bishop encountered someone who could bypass the Truth of his Mask. But he didn't need his mask to counter Rorke's statement. Bishop was a loyal right hand and he knew everything that went on inside and outside of Lemmen's business. Everything.

This gave him excuse enough... The simple sword hilt that hung loosely at his belt was in his hand in a flash. The extended blade was unleashed and the keen edge rested on Rorke's neck. The lifelessness of Bishop's mask detailed nothing for the others to read from except for the slow mechanical breathing.

"Rorke... For your sake... I would hope that all shipments come in as per ordered and that you are handling all those that don't. I would hate to be looking over our distrubution and storage and see we come up short next month on inventory. I would like to discuss this further with you on a later date if this is at all possible with your busy schedule."

The sarcasm in Bishop's metallic voice was hard to detect without any tone to the voice but he was sure that Rorke got his point. The blade lifted from Rorke's skin, leaving a slim line of blood. With a simple motion, the sword withdrew into the hilt and he had it back on his belt as if it had never left. He almost liked Rorke though, almost. Rorke was partly responsible for Bishop's casual shipment of assorted drugs he took.

[Silvo]

Silvo was beggining to get impatient. He hated being around the fat blob known as a person, and every second he was there made him feel more and more inclined to just try and kill the Meat King. However, he kept his feelings and emotions securely tucked in the back of his head, and waited with his arms crossed for the two to finally shut up and get down to business.

[Turcyn Rorke]

"I'll check with my assissant," he quipped, despite the intensity of the situation at hand.

"See if I can work you in."

He shot half-hearted grin at Bishop as he retracted the blade, lifting a hand to the light trace of blood left under his chin. Had the circumstances been more in his favor, he wouldn't have hesitated to pump more metal into Bishop's face. He favored his life though, and he knew any harm on Bishop would come back tenfold on him; even if the Meat King did have somewhat of a slight partiality for him.

"Now," he spoke up again, "if our frellin' samurai over here is finished, are we ready for business?"

[The Meat King]

The Mat King grinned somwhat at the situation infront of him and finaly of the words his close accociate Rorke had said. Lemmens appriciated Bishops interviening but it was not convienient enough for Lemmens to persue the arguement any further. The Meat King let his grin drop.

' Carl, my left hand, has been beaten up today by a member of an orginizeation we have no infomation about. When Simons was picking up our new cashe of Speeders and Swoops, this gentleman a Mr. Sin crushed our men out there and beat Carl nearly to a pulp not to mention stealing the merchandise, im not happy as you can well imagine!' His voice rumbled nastily with every word while his stomerch heaved up and down consistantly.

' I want this man dead...' It was final, no arguments on this point. His expressions made it that way.

[Silvo]

Silvo shifted slightly. This sounded like his kind of job.

A few seconds after the Meat King's statement, Silvo said,

"No problem. Do you have any background information? Any intel?"

[The Meat King]

The meat King suddenly turned his head towards Silvo with a extremely stern face, one of sheer thunder and annoyence. How he hated that stpid boy, but he was the cheapest and not bad at his job.

' Yes Silvo, i snuck out last night in my jim jams just before dawn and collected a vaulible pieace of intelligence on this matter for you! YOU MOOSE TWIT!' He roared sending a hail of wine all over the bed where he spilled the goblet.

' Wake up Silvo! or your gonna' find yourself standing on the same thin ice as Mr.Sin is, capesh?' Lemmens turned to Bishop and his demonic face returned back to normal.

' Find him for me Bishop, and punish him for me, and take Torke and this Twit with you.

[Silvo]

Hearing this, Silvo thought to himself,

'I'd like to see him try and move his legs. On second thought, I wouldn't'

Silvo glanced over at Bishop, blocking out the Meat King's annoying complaints and insults. If he wasn't being payed by him, he would not hesitate to stick him through with his vibroblade, no matter what his own consequences would be. Crossing his arms, he said,

"This is a sad establishment if you do not even have information on who you want dead."

[Bishop]

The hollow eyes of Bishop's mask slowly turned to Silvo. Was Silvo a complete idiot? What did he hope to accomplish in furthering any pathetic goals he might have by even thinking of resorting to petty insults before the Meat King? Examples must be made it would seem but that would come later. Not in front of Lemmens right now. Later.

"Silence. We didn't pay you to be insolent. We paid you to do the job assigned. And that job is find Mr. Sin and kill him. We are not obligated to give you any information concerning the target, that was not part of the agreement. We pay. You shoot. Understood?"

The metallic and distorted voice ended with a slight crackle in the electronics and Bishop then turned to Lemmens and bowed.

"As ordered, Sir, we take my our leave."

[Silvo]

Silvo thought to himself as Bishop said this,

'But I haven't even been payed yet..."

In seriousness, he did not even want to do the job they were offering. This Mr. Sin was probably not as bad as Lemmens, and only wanted to protect his company. However, a job was a job, and Silvo was not about to turn down a quick check.

Nodding his head towards Rorke, he said,

"Do I have to work with him?"

[Turcyn Rorke]

"If you want the job done right you do."

He cackled smugly; the sod had some brass to him.

"Put up or frell off. We ice this Sin kid and we're done. Simple as that."