Þetta er PBF spil sem ég er að spila á Goandnet.com
Spilað er í Star Wars revised core rules kerfinu og er karakterinn minn bissness armurinn af tveggja manna smyggl hring.
Þetta er mest allt copy/paste en ég hef reynt að fara soldið yfir og reynt að hylja sauman á þessu( Látið mig vita ef ég þarf að gera betur).

The Story of Aspen Woods

In the shadow of the grand Counting House, Aspen Woods waits for his friend. It has been an hour since the planned rendevous by the fountain. Jessie couldn't have gotten lost. Mandelheim Park is at dead center of the station. The fountain's water sours high into the air, high enough to leave the micro-gravity of the station. Ounce out of the gravity well, the water breaks up into individual beads, and then sours around following a path made by invisible forcefields, before being guided back into gravity so they can fall into the fountain. No one can miss a landmark like that. This station is too small to get lost for so long. And if Jessie had been delayed, there's always a comlink. Something bad must have happened.
Bad has been the order of the day for Aspen. He wouldn't be in this backwater if not for a little debt to pay off. None of it was his fault either. Rather than debt, blackmail would be a more appropriate word. Worse yet, the clerks at the Counting House insisted that he still owes interest. Taking the interest out on Jessie's hide wouldn't be unexpected. If only Jessie had expected that.

Wondering what to do next, a public vidphone near the fountain begins beeping. Pedestrians walk around it, looking at the phone like a nuicense that carries a deadly plague. Aspen approaches the phone hesidantly and picks up the reciever, listenig silently, waiting for the caller to give up his identidy. – What am I doing? this could be someone elses secret meeting – he thinks to himself – Well.. nice to know anyway… –
A gravelly, mechanical voice comes out of the reciever saying, “Mr. Woods, you could have picked up a little sooner. No matter. About that accured interest, your partner has been taken as bond to assure it is repaid. We do not want money, only a favor. There is an unattender speeder parked twenty meters to your left. In its storage compartment there is a box. We want for you to get that box aboard a ship docked at Portside Berth 742, without it being noticed. If you fail to do so within thirty hours, your partner will find out how far out Mandelheim's atmosphere extends. Do you catch the drift?” The voice is noticably unaccented Basic. “And Mr. Woods”, the voice continues, “Do not open the box if you value your own life.”
“Who is this”, Aspen asks.“Where do you keep Jessie?
– I dont like the sound of this – he thinks – But I better comply –
The person on the other end of the line doesn't answer Aspen's questions. Only a fool would.
With the conversation over Aspen walks over to the speeder and checks the storage compartment, finding the box, he examines it thou not opening it.
The box measures 50 cubic centimeters. It is made of black, composite material molded to look like a standard shipping crate. A soft humm comes from inside when Aspen moves it, but once held still, the sound fades away. After examining the box he gets in the speeder and check if its operational to him, seeing if the keys are in the slid or the password alraedy entered..The speeder is an open-topped, three-engine, two-person model. It has blaster scorch marks on the back, but otherwise is in good condition. No one objects to Aspen climbing in and searching around. There aren't any keys. There is a comlink stashed inside the glove box. The ignition is locked, but nothing that a professional speeder thief couldn't get started in less than five seconds. Scratches around the ignition key slot tell that has already happened. Deciding that this vehicle is to hot to operate Aspen leaves it be, but grabs the commlink and the box. Next thing he does is hailing a taxi.
Destinaton: The local market for ”legit“ merchantdice. – Better get this some camoflage. –

A paint-grey taxi comes to Aspen's hail. It is driven by a droid who swivels it´s dishpan-like head around 180 degrees to look at Aspen with its single red sensor. Which market? There are 14 markets on Mandelheim. All of which sell legitimate goods. 100% guaranteed authentic. Will this be cash or credit? The droid, which is built into the driver's compartment of the taxi waits for a response before moving off anywhere.
”Any market will do, preferably one where cheap electronics can be bought. I pay with a credit chip thank you.“ Aspen replies to the talkative droid.

The droid waits for Aspen to slip his credchip into a slot so it can deduct the cretit as the miles tick by. The ride is a short and fast one. The taxi speeds around the park, going down one side of the Counting House. It pulls up into a mall around back of the Counting House.

Your Destination, Parkside Mall. Five credits have been deducted for your ride. Please, have a safe day, Sir.

The door opens on a outdoor mall. The fronts of shops are open to the air, with merchandise on display. Salesmen stand out front hawking for customers while keeping an eye on their goods. These people have no shame about what they sell: intimate clothing, blasters, low quality Lunar Spice, cheap knock-off electronics. Presumably, every mall on Mandeheim sells stuff as legitimate as this. Aspen walks to the cheapest and lousiest electronics booth he can find and askes the merchant if he can take look at his wares. ”I need 500ic worth of this junk in a bag or box, is that arangable?“
”Junk?“, roars the merchant indignantly ”None of my goods are junk. These are the finest consumer electronics straight from Commenor. You'll not find any finer vidchip players in these parts. And everything is still in their original boxes. But if 500 Dactaries is your budget, I have some very nice home entertainment systems to show you.“ According to Aspen's appraisal of the goods, only the goods that are as he says are up front. Pushed to the back are the knock-offs of well known brands. But without opening any of the boxes, it's impossible to tell if anything it truely in its original box. No box here matches the dimensions Aspen has been told deliver as no box here is a perfect cube.
”Realy, well then show me, please do“ Aspens attitude has spun from a hardass consumerfriendly pricecop to the intrested buyer, who is ready to buy any ware.I am trying to impress a friend of mine with a big birtday present, does´nt have to cost much, its the size and feeling that matters” Aspens gives the salesman a fake smile at the end of that sentence “I wont go any higher than 700 but I can opt for used goods if it fits in my econamical window”
The salesman seems a little insulted at his wares being called junk, but not insulted enough to let a sale get away from him. He puffs up with a fake smile and graciously shows Aspen into his shop. This salesman is short and dwarf-like with lots of curly hair. He looks like what you might get when a woman mates with a Wookie on a high gravity world. His clothes are all silk, or a good facimilie thereof. “Well if big is what your friend likes, big is what I have.”, bawles the man congenially.
He shows Aspen over to the displays of entertainment systems. “Smaller is better in the vidchip player department. Plasma screens and holo displays are all the rage, if you want to really impress your friends. But since you want big, then speakers is where bigger makes the better impression.”
“Yes, speakers thats a good idea, I need something thats at least 50cubic-cm but bigger is better” Aspen looks over the wares here and pretends to be impressed, “So here is where the -real- merchandice is kept” – I better get me some personal trasportation soon, it wont look good if I´m hauling this junk all over the station –
The salesman rubs his palms together, eager to make a big sale. The crackle of static electricity is generated by his hairy palms rubbing. This guy clearly isn't human. The Human race wouldn't dare confess to having him as a member. So far no other race appears to have staked a claim either. “50 square centimeters start at 400 cr. But if you want to really impress your friend, then you'll need all the bells and tweeters. That'll run you up to 550 cr. We accept Republic Dactaries, Athainian Gil, Octomar Bank Notes… None of that currency guaranteed by the Intergalactic Banking Guild.” It sounds like he has already settled on a price. But price tags aren't attached to anything here so that means prices are negotiable. Prices also vary depending on the currency of exchange.
“Lets take a look at something thats 55cubic-cm shall we?” Aspen´s consumer´s voice speaking. “Oh, bigger! You're too kind to your friend. But that's going to squeeze your budget, me thinks.”, the salesman goes on. Aspens checks out the larger wares. “I will pay 800ic for the bigger version without all the extras but all I have is ICs, and that must do” Aspens says with as much sincerity as he can muster. With that appraisal role the first thing Aspen realizes that his offer must be for a pair of them. So far ther salesman hasn't made it clear wether his asking price is for a pair or for a single speaker. And even at that rate, it's a pretty excessive price. But in this backwater station, quality electronics must be in short supply. Nothing of this sort is manufactured around here. “No! No! Intergalactic Credit is no good here! You'll need to go around to the Counting House to exchange your currency. I'm not going to take a risk on it.” , the merchant insists. He then rubs his hairy, black chin and has a second thought. “No, wait. I like you. You treat your friends nice. I take that credit of yours. I might take a big hit on it though. Depends on how big a hit the Banking Guild has taken in battle. Exchange rates flucuate. I think of it as gambling.”
“Splendid, thats a deal, 800ic for a pair of those, and then Im of to impress my friend. Thank you very much its been very nice to do buisness with you and rest assured I will direct all of my friends to come here, because here is where one can make honest and bullshit free buisness.” Aspen then hand him his credit chip to make the withdrawal and prepares to pack his newly aquired stuff, and make it ready for transportation. The speakers come in cardboard boxes, each in a seperate box. In the low gravity of Mandelheim Station, both can easily be carried by a plastic handstrap at the top of each box. The reduced gravity now has a useful purpose; the lighten the load of heavy cargo being loaded and unloaded from the docks.

In the Parkside Mall, air taxis wait for fares to hail them. A shuttle also stops by every ten minutes. The place seems to be set up for the tourism trade, judging from the amundance of transportation. That also means it's no place to find a bargain. Aspen got ripped off on the price of those speakers. But for the purpose he probabily has in mind for them, they're well worth it. Aspen hauls his wares to where the taxis are waiting and gets into one of them.
“Some place quiet” He says and inserts his credit chip.Then he opens one of the boxes and examines the product checking if he can place the little mystery box inside. The droid piloting Aspen's taxi turns its head around and addresses him, Please be more specific, sir. With the crush of people in the busy space station, and space at a premium, ‘quiet’ must also mean ‘private’.
“The sight seeing tour to the Portside berth 742, I wish to see all the important things on this station.”
Buying speakers that are 55 cm square leaves ample space for the box. It done right, the essential speaker electronics can be left inside although the sound quality won't be as good without so much space for resonance. En route Aspen operates on his camofladge as carefully as he can.
“There aren't any tours of the docks, Sir,” replies the droid driver. “Too busy, too ugly, too dangerous. But if you want to see Portside Berth 742, I will drive you there.” It then takes off on a liesurely pace, doing its best to comply with the request to see all the important things on the station. This ‘scenic route’ is really an excuse to drive up a big fare. The slow pace and lack of sudden stops makes conditions favorable enough for Aspen to do his work. Ignoring the droid babble off its improvised tour of the station, Aspen prepares his package using one of the speakers he just bought. By the time the taxi comes to a stop infront of Portside Berth 742 the bill comes to 157 credits. It seems the taxi really took him for a ride.

Looking out at the ship moored to Berth 742, Aspen sees a Corellian Corvette. It's engines are larger than its bridge. It's radar dish is as large as its dorsal turbolaser cannons. It has a lot of carbon scoring showing that it has seen plenty of battle. It's also well maintained. A small army of labor droids are busily stacking cargo into its modular cargo holds.
Getting anything aboard this ship without anyone knowing is going to be very difficult. Security is high around here. Not only are there patrol droids flying around, keeping an eye out for thieves skulking around the dockside. This ship is guarded by soldiers. The soldiers wear navy blue shirts, black pants with gold piping up the legs, khaki blast vests, and white helmets like half an egg shell cut at an angle. And there's about twenty of them patrolling around the berth The droid driver then points out a computer consol. Station Master's Information consol, sir. There you can learn what ships are docked where, destinations, arrival, and departure times. Have a nice day, sir. – Now, how do I get the box onboard the ship? I think I´ll just ask them to take my present to where ever they are going –
===================================—————-> FIRST TOPIC FINISHED <br><br>Dod : [-=HB=-]Gunsalot
Cs : Gunsalot
bf : Gunsalot