Opening Crawl: Link
It is a time of great turmoil in the Galaxy. The JEDI have fallen, the EMPIRE has risen and rules the Galaxy with an iron fist. EMPEROR PALPATINE has dispatched his servant DARTH VADER to hunt down the last of the Jedi. A mission that has been all but triumphant.
Amid this uncertainty and fear, most of the citizens of this new Empire merely try to live their life in peace. But on the Space Station TRINITY, six strangers are about to learn that DESTINY has other plans....
Trinity station lies along the Corellian Trade spine almost in the center of the mid rim, Orbiting a Gas Giant planet named Selerus. The Trinity has become a veritable hub of activity, with new ships of every purpose coming and going every day, stopping at the Trinity for maintenance, business and pleasure.
The station gets its name from the fact that it it is actually three stations. The Trinity is composed of three space stations, The Pavillion, the Hub and the Works, that orbit the planet in synchronous rotation at relatively different rotations. Each disk of the Trinity covers a different purpose.
The First station that anyone sees from the inside is the Hub. The centermost station acts as a both commercial promenade, with various stores, restaurants, bars, cantinas and just about any other commercial business, both legally and less than legally. The Hub also manages and maintains one of the largest Spaceports in the Sector.
The uppermost disk, The Pavilion, houses administrative offices, diplomatic embassies and rents out space to both businesses and a few of the Trinity's more affluent permanent residences as lofty penthouse apartments. The Pavilion also houses a satellite branch of the Aldaraan Medical Academy, in the form of a highly advanced research hospital.
Finally there was the Works. The last of the three stations is a massive factory, devoted to mining and processing the large deposits of Tibanna gas found in Selerus' atmosphere. The works is only station not open to the general public.
Over the past couple of days, each of you has arrived at Trinity Station, each merely believe it is simply the next waypoint on your travels. And each of you would be right, from a certain point of view...
Cordal sits in the pilot seat of The Wanderader, an old Ghtroc 720 freighter that looked a little like flattened turtle. In the week since Cordal had been hired on as the freighters pilot he had grown quite used to the old girl. She was modified, mostly for maneuverability, trip length and cargo capacity. Though Cordal didn't know the full limits of the ship yet, this was his first trip with the crew and he hadn't had a good chance to put The Wanderer through her paces.
To the back of the four person cockpit, a hatchway in the floor opens and a Nautolan with dusty blue skin and black eyes that have just a hint of red in them hauls himself up the ladder. Cordal hasn't gotten to know Dak Varess very well yet, but the Wanderer's Captain seems likable enough.
Dak unclips a thermos of synth-caf from his belt and takes a long sip from it, "What's the word Leea?" He asks, addressing the young Pantoran girl who's sitting at the station behind Cordal, "You going to have everything set for our new flyboy here?"
Leea swiveled in her chair to give Dak a skeptical look. "Please Captain, gimme some respect. Already got the codes, just as long as the new kid doesn't crash us, we'll be good."
The captain gives a chuckle at that, "Hear that Cordal, better not crash us... he flops himself down in copilot seat beside Cordal and reaches up for the ships internal comm switch, "Aran, this is the Captain, make sure the engines are prepped, we're about to transit back to realspace,"
Aran lies flat on his back, resting on a dolly to slide underneath part of the ship's Starboard engine. His hands, face and most everything else are covered in a healthy ammount of grease. His droid, Zee waits nearby, passing Aran whatever tool he needs and taking them from him as he passes them back. Zee passes Aran his latest request, a hyrdrospanner that is so clean it looks like it's fresh from the store,as the ship's comm chimes. "Aran, this is the Captain, make sure the engines are prepped, we're about to transit back to realspace,"
Aran Had been working as a part of Captain Dak Varess' crew for about two months ago. The Nautolan captain hired you on Corellia to act as his ship's Technician, and has managed to find work for you to scrape by on since then. The Wanderer is an old ghtroc 720 class freighter but overall she seems to be a sturdy vessel.
"No problem, Cap. She looks like a turtle, but she flies like a dream. We'll have you docked and happy before you even know it. And if I don't, you can fire the girl here." Cordal leans back in the pilot's seat, doing his best to convey competence and charm. Internally he's a bit worried. Every time he docks at a station he's secretly wondering if this is the time the dark armored figures he's heard are hunting Jedi are waiting for him...
Zee worked happily along cleaning the tools and making sure they were returned to their correct spots.
It was greasy work and not Zee's favourite. He always felt the need to gargle his insides with var-sol or turpentine after swallowing greasy messes to get himself properly clean.
Maybe he should invest in one of those nice water picks with cork bits in the water? He'd heard they didn't scratch material and were good at cleaning. He could have a nice bath with one of those used to help keep his insides nice and clean.
Unfortunately, he only had 60 credits and would need to work with a better class of criminal if he was ever going to earn enough for such luxuries.
He should have been a ship. The ship was constantly getting money spent on it and labour spent looking after it's systems. No one seemed to spend the same money or attention on a cleaning droid.
Zee continued to work while continuing to dream of one day having a home with a fleet of cleaning droids keeping it sparkling clean.
H'ishmau and Koros
It's been said that the commercial districts of the Hub were taken right from Coruscant itself, and H'ishmau and Koros find it hard to disagree with the assertion. Holographic Neon signs point the way to a myriad of businesses and sentients from all over bustle through promenades and thorough-ways to wherever they're destination is.
The two met a week ago, H'ishmau had just arrived on the station after gaining transport to Trinity on a cargo freighter, and after such a long time crammed into the bowels of a heavy freighter with a hundred other passengers, the Togorian had relished a chance to stretch his legs.
Wandering the corridors of Trinity's lower levels, H'ishmau ran afoul of a number of Trandoshans, who saw the newcomer as easy prey. The Togorian warrior fought valiantly, but in the end was almost overpowered, until the intervension of a young Zabrak, Koros. In all honest H'ishmau was never quite sure how the smaller man had dispatched his assailants, but nevertheless he probably owed him his life.
Now they weaved through the promenades to a popular cantina called Oasis. Earlier this day Koros had returned to the Hostel that the pairhad booked cots in to find a datapad in his locker with a single message, We've heard you've been looking for us, I think it's time to talk. Oasis club, 2100 hrs.
For a feline race, H'ishmau sure growls a lot. He flexes and stretches powerful muscles. Being cramped on this little station has been rough. It is too crowded to begin with and the corridors aren't designed to accommodate such a large frame.
The one fortunate thing the Togorian has going for him is his intimidating stature. Almost 3 meters tall with white striped fur, his claws and teeth keep most people at bay. When he walks through the corridor, the crowd moves for him. Except for the slavers who tried to recapture him, no one had given Hish any trouble.
That's not to say Hish is opposed to getting in trouble. If there's anything that him and Koros agreed upon, it was fighting the Empire. Now it seems they had an opportunity for just that. He growled at the very prospect.
"Thanks, Zee," he murmurs as he takes the hydrospanner and puts it to task. His mother (or surrogate mother, anyway) had always taught him to be polite, even if he didn't really treat Zee like the droid was his own.
After the captain's call, Aran trips his own com-link to reply. "Starboard's looking, ah, pretty good, sir. Just need to close her up and get out from under her. Port's already taken care of, sir." Just as quick as he'd opened her up, he closes her, tools flying back and forth between him and Zee almost faster than the droid can clean them. The job's routine enough he finds time to regret they were heading for a space station and not a planet - there was a 'joke' about hoping the engines didn't fall apart, hit the gravity well, and get the captain fined for littering that just didn't work in this context.
Nobody, including himself, thought it was that funny, but it usually got a rise out of Zee.
With everything done, he slides out from under the engine, kips up, and inspects himself. Gonna need a change, he thinks, wishing he'd bothered to put on some coveralls. At least he'd left his good jacket in his quarters, but this shirt was probably gonna have to go. He had never been as fastidious as Zee - that was, quite literally, humanly impossible - but even he had his limits. Besides, being covered in grease - while a mechanic stereotype - messed with the feel of the wind on your face and the smells of being planetside.
He lets out a sigh at that, remembering they were going to be docking at Trinity Station, looks down to Zee, and remarks, "Well, it's a job, huh? Let's get back to quarters, I need to clean off." He trips his comlink briefly to let the captain know everything's ready, puts the dolly in its place, does a quick head-count of his toolset, and gets ready to head to his quarters.
Zee does a quick cleaning of the exterior casing of the engines to make sure no fingerprints, skin, or hair had been left behind to mare the engines pristine appearance.
Zee then activated his scrubber vac attachment to follow along the trail that Aran had made making sure the decking was returned to his preference of spotless.
When he got back to quarters, he took down his bio-ball and watched his Landorian Sun Worm. It happily radiated various patterns of colours as it scoured the interior of the ball eating up small micro shrimp like plankton.
People claimed Landorian Sun Worms weren't intelligent but Zee was sure they were wrong. He was sure his friend radiated different colours every-time he picked up the bio-ball as a way of saying hello.
He'd found the bio-ball one day lost and abandoned when he had been forced to spend three days waiting under a bed for an opportunity to leave. He and the Landorian Sun Worm had grown quite close during that time. It surprised Zee that the occupants in the three days had shown no remorse over the missing Landorian Sun Worm.
Thus, when Zee left the apartment, he'd taken his new companion with him.
Aran, Cordal, Zee
A voice echoes in the ship's cockpit, "Unidentified freighter, this is Trinity Control, please identify yourself."
With a mischievous smile on her face, Leea's hands fly across her stations controls and she fits a small headset to her ear, "Sorry about that control, just having a bit of an issue with our sublight transmitter. This is the Dusty Duck, picking up a cargo of vaporators en route to Sorroco and Tatooine. Transmitting shipping orders, crew manifest and all credentials now."
A silence fills the air, and for a moment Cordal is sure that they've been made. But for her part, Leea never loses her little grin, a moment later the radio crackles to life again, "Dusty Duck this is Trinity Control, You are cleared to land in Docking Bay Theta, Berth 1138."
Beaming ear to ear, Leea clicks the comm one last time, "Thanks for the assistance Control," then looks to the Captain, and then to Cordal, "Told you to have faith, flyboy."
Docking bay Theta is a massive open docking bay, with two extra levels that encircle the first floor. Berth 1138 is on the uppermost ring. Cordal pilots the ship in and lands it in her appropriate spot.
The five of you meet up in the ship's cargo bay. Captain Varess enters wearing his typical loose fitting cargo pants and black muscle shirt, a heavy blaster strapped at his side. He grabs an old duster coat and pulls it on, "Leea, stay here and get the ship ready for our cargo, don't open the hidden ones yet though, just in case. and get the third bunkroom prepped."
Leea's head turns inquisitively, "Are we taking on passengers?"
Hitting the control to lower the exit ramp, Dak shrugs, "We'll see what we find. Cordal, Aran, you boys and the Droid are with me, let's go." and without waiting for a confirmation, The Nautolan heads down the ramp.
Cordal shrugs at the girl. "Good deal, kid. Anyone I walk away from is a good one." Hearing the Cap's orders, Cordal stands, adjusts his blaster to loosen up the draw and discreetly brushes his hand against his "flashlight". Never hurts to have that close to hand, just in case.
Zee beeped his assent and fell into step behind the others. He loaded a fresh chip into his processing circuits and prepared to follow along taking pictures of the various sights and sounds as he traveled along.
Zee had learned on his last assignment that there was credit to be made in just taking pictures and tossing them into a composed piece along with a bit of text and editing.
Sure, there publication laws against official distribution of pictures without proper authorization of the people pictured. Zee didn't worry. The clients that purchased the pictures and video he sold weren't to fussy on where the source came from.
Koros kept his eyes down on the datapad in his hand as he walked towards the Oasis club through the busy thoroughfare, scanning the single sentence as if he thought more would appear if he concentrated on it hard enough. He had little to worry about in the way of bumping into people as the crowd gave the large Togorian walking a step behind him a large birth.
Glancing back towards the cat-man Koros thought back to their first meeting. H'ishmau was being assaulted by some slavers when Koros had happened by. It was not long after Koros had arrived on station and he was still on edge from the loss of his adopted mother. When the Trandoshan turned his vibroblade on the Zabrak and told him to mind his own business Koros lost it. All the pent up sorrow and anger in him unleashed from his fist as he punched the lizardman in the chest and sent him flying into a second Trandoshan with the force. The remaining Trandoshans were frozen for a few seconds in shock from what must have looked like a Zabrak punching with the strength of a Wookie. This was all the time H’ishmau needed to turn the tables on his would be attackers.
Hish and Koros became fast friends after that. H’ishmau had been grateful to Koros for saving his life, a point which Koros was doubtful of after seeing the Togorian fight, Koros for his part was just happy to have a friend in this station full of strangers. It certainly didn’t hurt their friendship that both of them hated the Empire.
Koros held the datapad up over his shoulder, gesturing with it as he spoke. “Hish my friend I think this is it. If we can get in with an organized rebellion we should really be able to take the fight to the Empire.” Koros said, confident that the thousand conversations going on in the crowd around him would prevent him from being overheard. “Well, that… or it’s a trap. Still, either way this meeting should result in an opportunity to put the hurt on some Imperials.”
With a guttural Togorian accent, H'ishmau voiced his agreement. "I'm just looking forward to not being cooped up like a dog. I spent years in cages and I'll be damned if I ever end up in one again." A Twi'lek came too close to him, causing Hish to growl at him. The green skinned being took a few steps back and turned, tucking his lekku away as he tried to make himself scarce.
Hish considered the Zabrak in front of him. The first Zabrak he had met was a cruel slavemaster who sadistically tortured him in a bid to make him even more vicious. It worked far better than the slavemaster could have hoped, as evidenced when Hish tore the Zabrak's head clean off his body in a rage. He knew that there was an owner out there somewhere who lost quite a bit of money when he escaped, but he didn't care. Freedom was something worth fighting for, something worth killing for. If the mysterious message offered a chance to fight for freedom, Hish would take it.
Koros was totally different from his former slavemaster. Hish could easily relate to his moroseness and anger, but there was quite a bit he did not understand. He seemed to be capable of things that made no sense to H'ishmau, things that didn't seem possible. Hish hadn't made a point of asking Koros about it. Togorians had a saying about curiosity...
Aran makes quick use of the facilities to get the worst of the muck gone, missing out (as he preferred it) on the gut-wrenching routine of pulling one over on the control team. He'd never gotten used to that and he preferred to be anywhere but the bridge when it happened.
Cleaned up, to spacer standards, anyway, he gets dressed, throws a sidelong glance at Zee's habitual worm-gazing, and grabs his belt. His trusty blaster winds up hanging low - waist-space was at a premium with all the essentials he kept at hand out of habit. "Come along, Zee, captain's probably waitin' on us."
He shows up last to the cargo bay, straightening out the collar on his orange jacket. Between that, the tucked-in light gray shirt and unassuming dark trousers he looks the part of a straight-laced spacer that could easily fade into a crowd. He nods to the rest of the crew in turn.
He falls in to line behind the captain wordlessly, glancing around as they go, taking in the sights and sighing to himself every time something reminds him of being on the ground.
Cordal nods at Aran and the droid. He keeps his eyes down as they walk, but his body is tense and ready to spring. Years of looking out for the inevitable attack taught him to be ready whenever he's not onboard ship. You could never tell when the attack would it come, but Cordal has seen enough to know that it would always come.
Use the Force: to sense any other Force Users, just to ensure they're not heading in his direction
Zee noting Cordal seems tense decides to engage his processing routines to categorize what he is seeing into threats and non-threats. He still tries to take pictures and compare them to his files of people with listed bounties.
Captain Varess wasn't a bounty hunter by trade but he'd sure be upset if Zee failed to report an opportunity to make money.
Koros and H'ishmau
The Oasis is billed as one of Trinity's most popular cantinas, and as you enter the establishment you can see that the reputation seems well deserved. The whole place is lit in a dim blue while neon blue holograms trace patterns of crashing waves across the walls, cieling, and everything else. As far as you can see, the club has three levels. The uppermost level seems to be some sort of a private balcony, walled off with retractable transparisteel, you glimpse some sentients lounging up there who appear to be insanely rich, ungodly beautiful, or both. The Second level encircles the entirety of the bar, open to the public, it is mostly tables and booths set for people to relax and enjoy a drink. The first floor is by far the busiest. Three stages dot the north, east and west compass points, each with an absolutely beautiful female gyrating and dancing provocatively. Most of the floor is taken up by throngs of people dancing and socializing, though a number of secluded booths line the walls. The bar is in the center of the club, a complete circle with a hologram of one of the girls enlarged to monolithic proportions above it.
The two of you quickly realize that while you were instructed to meet at the Oasis, you have no instructions after that. So, with no other recourse, you do what any self respecting person would do. You go to the bar.
You lean against the counter, taking a cursory glance at the menu, you scan the crowd behind around you.
"Rumor has it, you two aren't all that pleased with the management."
The voice comes from behind you, an attractive Zeltron man in his mid twenties with rose red skin and shaggy dark blue hair. He's dressed in black cargo pants, a white sleeveless shirt and a high collared bomber's jacket. A blaster strapped easily at his side finishes off the Spacer Look. He smiles easily, gaze moving between the two of you.
H'ishmau looks at the Zeltron, untrusting of his geniality. "What of it?" He practically growls the words out, each syllable a guttural spitting. "Who the hell are you?" Hish is anything but domesticated. Most people would see him as little more than a barbaric brute, an image he was totally fine with.
Hish flexes his claws with little subtlety. If this were to turn out to be a trap, he would be ready to inflict terrible violence on the Zeltron male.
Aran and Cordal
"Have fun boys, bring me back a souvenir!" Leea gives you both one more wave before she turns back into the ship while you follow the Captain out of the Wanderer. The first bit is routine, you wait off to the side while Dak barters with the Deck official for how much maintenance and resupply is going to cost.
The two friends lean against the rail, looking out over the massive docking bay. Stormtroopers patrol the bay in pairs, offhand you can see about six of them, but they pay no attention to the Wanderer or her crew.
Taking this time, Cordal lets the force flow out of him, feeling for other people strong in the force. Cordal has to stop himself from jerking upright as he feels a presence in the Force in this very hangar. A presence that is incredibly strong and eerily familiar. For the briefest of moments Cordal is sure that the presence nudges back, as if saying hello...
Zee
You zip out from under Aran and the Captain's feet and make your way to the edge of the balcony, scanning every sentient you can. Matching any photo with known databases is surprisingly easy, and Zee feels a thrill of excitement in his circuits as he receives a match of 89%. Zee focuses in on a Whiphid on the first floor. Dressed in a simple grey poncho and a conical straw hat, the alien doesn't seem the least bit threatening, but if the match up is correct, he's worth a hundred thousand credts alive! or fifty thousand dead.
However the droid finds himself momentarily distracted as a holonet notice flashes up on his internal preprocessors. Three Star Destroyers just exited Hyperspace within the system.
Zee seeing a match happily beeps and displays a picture on his video screen of first the Whiphid that he has spotted, then the bounty report making sure to highlight the words in flashing colour 'Hundred Thousand Credits'.
Zee takes the report of the Three Star Destroyers and puts it in message file and uses his internal comlink to send it to Leea on the ship. Captain Varess is busy here with making money so Zee decides he can be alerted later when it comes time to take off.
Clearly, the priority is the bounty and the 'Hundred Thousand Credits'.
Cordal tenses even more than usual. He slowly scans the hangar bay, looking for the person who pinged his radar.
Perception:
Cordal, Aran and Zee
Cordal's heart leaps into his throat as he sees the origin of the force presence displayed right there on Zee's screen. The large Whiphid is his conical hat is plainly Master K'Kruh, a Jedi Knight and one of the masters who trained Cordal in lightsaber combat as a youngling.
Dak lets out a low whistle as he rejoins with the other two, "Hundred large... Wasn't planning on going this hands on but the money's right... Zee what's he wanted for?"
Zee processes the request and a nano second later flashes the information for all involved. The bounty gives no specifics and only states "Wanted for High Treason and sedition against the Empire."
Dak folds his arms across his chest, "Well, what do we think?"
H'ishmau and Koros
"Easy friend," The Zeltron spreads his arms wide, leaving them far away from his blaster. "I'm just another dissatisfied customer... thought we could discuss how to take this up with the management. How about we find a table and I get you boys a drink..." His eyes dart between them and he smirks again, "We'll all drink from the same bottle, and I'll take the first swig. What do you say?"
Cordal lets out a breath he didn't realize he was holding. "I dunno, Cap'n. It's a large bounty, yes, but he's got to be wanted for something bad for it to be that high. Doesn't look dangerous to me, but there must be something, right?"
Deception:
Zee flickers onto his video screen images of people dancing around, toasting with drinks, waterfalls of money, skimpily dressed aliens showing off brand new gleaming vehicles.
Hish looks to Koros before sitting down at the Zeltron's table. After their new acquaintance orders a drink, Hish gets right to the point. "We want to fight the Empire. Can you help us with that?"
(Sorry about the lag in response guys I just lost my job yesterday. I’m still going to try and keep up with this RP, but things may get a bit hectic for me. I should still be able to get on at least once per day.)
“Calm yourself Hish” Koros says in a friendly manner while momentarily putting a hand on the Togorian’s shoulder. “We don’t want to scare our new friend off.” Looking back towards the Zeltron across from him Koros leans back in his seat. “Now, are you simply a man with his own grievances, or do you represent a group of concerned customers mister…?” Koros trails off at the end, leaving an opportunity for the stranger to provide his name.
"I dunno, Cap," Aran says thoughtfully, smiling at Zee's antics. He continues in low tones, "Don't tell any troopers but I'm none too fond of the Empire myself. There's no telling from that charge just what he did, so I'd prefer to give him the benefit of the doubt. Hell, I might rather buy him a drink."
He pushes himself off the railing, takes another look at the mark and another to the patrols, and adds, "Besides, if you had a bounty on your head, would you want every two-credit smuggler trying to turn you in? Honor among thieves? Criminals, whatever. If he's that dangerous, he'll get killed or caught soon enough without our intervention."
He looks down at Zee and adds, "Those are all mighty fine things, Zee, but do you really wanna deal with the carbon scoring if things get hairy?"
"I dunno, Cap," Aran says thoughtfully, smiling at Zee's antics. He continues in low tones, "Don't tell any troopers but I'm none too fond of the Empire myself. There's no telling from that charge just what he did, so I'd prefer to give him the benefit of the doubt. Hell, I might rather buy him a drink."
...
He looks down at Zee and adds, "Those are all mighty fine things, Zee, but do you really wanna deal with the carbon scoring if things get hairy?"
Zee immediately uses his wheels to peddle his body back and forth as he whistles in binary a negative.
He displays a picture on the video screen of the picture of the Whiphid bounty poster going up in flames and several scenes of aliens wailing tears over burned out buildings. Zee includes a clip of someone saying, 'I'm a lover, not a fighter'.
Koros and H'ishmau
Koros and H'ish sit down across from the Zeltron as he orders a bottle of Corellian Brandy for the three of you, "Jace," he responds with smile, "Jace Bryar. And if I'm not mistaken you're Koros and our charismatic friend here is H'ishmau." He casts his glance back to the Togorian as the bottle is delivered by a serving droid. "Now to answer your question," he continues, "I do represent a group of like minded individuals. Individuals who need help." He pours three glasses of the brandy and takes a hearty swig, holding up his glass to show that it's empty before pouring himself a second drink. "Consider this a request... and a test. We know very little about you two, but we need help for a job. Consider it an entrance exam if you will, or a freelance job if you change your mind. My partner's out finding us the rest of our crew, interested so far?"
Aran, Cordal and Zee
Dak laughs at Zee's antics, grinning down at the little droid, "Well it seems as though the decision is unanimous. Too bad though, I would have liked to buy a moon or two, Alright then, lets go find some work."
Following the captains lead, The spacers head for a small turbolift that takes them down to the main floor of the hangar and walk towards the entrance to the Hub's concourse, just as the four round the corner, they come face to face with the same Whiphid that was just the topic of discussion.
"My greetings," he says, with a voice that somehow sounds like gravel, and yet smooth and calming, "Are you by chance the crew of the Ghtroc I just saw land?"
Dak is taken aback enough that he glances at his companions before looking back to the Whiphid, "I'm her captain, what's it to you?"
The Whiphid holds up his hands, two huge furred paws with two fingers and a thumb each, "I mean no disrespect my friend... actually, I was hoping to hire you."
When Master K'kruh appeared in front of them, Cordal just about jumped out of his skin. Years on the run believing that the Jedi had all been hunted down by the black clad assassins he'd heard tales of had taught him to lay low and keep quiet about his past. Now, here was not only a Jedi, but a Master who had taught him. It was simultaneously the best and worst moment of his life; what is Master K'kruh gave him away? What if the others realized there was probably a bounty on his head as well? What if.... The questions swirled as Cordal did his best to shrink and appear unworthy of notice.
Zee notes that Cordal is lying. There were plenty of biometric differentials in temperature, heart rate, twitches of flesh and other markers. It was one reason the crew didn't allow Zee to play Sabbac with them.
Zee didn't mind that.
Biologicals were always telling lies.
They lied about where they went, what they had done in the past, how much money they had made, what food was being prepared for consumption and a dozen other things. Zee's extensive knowledge of biological behaviour told him this was perfectly natural.
Zee was only concerned if Aran and him were getting cheated out of 'their share' of the bounty. It wasn't like someone hadn't done that before.
Zee didn't have much need for credits. He just wanted to have some so he could live a quiet life in a clean place with other droids to help keep the place clean. He might have them leave a 10'x10' section to gather dust; so, he'd have something fresh to clean each day and demonstrate proper methods of cleaning.
A comparison of Cordal's responses to Zee's data banks of behaviour didn't show that Cordal was just lying. Cordal had some sort of familiar relationship with the Whiphid.
Cordal might try to hide it but Zee understood the need to keep an operative's cover intact.
Zee settled in to watch what happened.
“Well, you know my name…” Koros says, slightly put off guard. He downs his shot of brandy to hide his shock. “Which, considering how hard I’ve tried to stay off of the radar means either I got sloppy somewhere along the line, or that the people you work for are very good. The Zabrak reaches for the bottle after Jace sets it down and pours himself another shot. “Either way, while I can’t speak for my friend here I am certainly interested. So, what’s this job of yours?”
Perception (for grins)
Aran joins Dak in his laughter. He raises an eyebrow at Cordal, realizing the pilot hadn't quite come clean with them. That was common enough in this business; everybody had a dirty secret or ten to hide, but now Cord's response had him mildly intrigued.
When the Whiphid seems to ambush them out of nowhere, his hand immediately jerks to its holster, but relaxes as soon as he realizes they aren't in danger.
"What for?" Aran oversteps his bounds a bit, once again, out of curiosity. His gaze shifts to Cordal, again acting very... strange. Was this guy dangerous after all?
Zee uses his internal comlink while the Whiphid discusses hiring the Wanderer to double check what the various Bounty Guilds were offering for 'tips' leading to the capture wanted criminals.
It wasn't as much credit as capturing the Whipid themselves but it wasn't as likely to get Zee carbon scored. If the Whipid was going to deliver themselves to the Wanderer at a particular time and place expecting a ride then it would be easy to score at least a few credits.
If worse came to worse then it would give the Captain some bargaining leverage when it came to setting the price of passage.
Zee flashed on his video screen pics of people exchanging stacks of credits. Several of the aliens seem to be taken from bad video sources because they all wink as they receive the stacks of credits.
H'ishmau's chair is fat too small for him. He holds a lot of his weight on the table to reduce the strain on the chair, a lesson learned after many broken chairs. He leans forward to speak to Bryar. "I only have one rule before accepting a job: I can walk away anytime, my choice, no warning. Freedom is more important to me than you can imagine."
He shakes his head when offered alcohol. He had never liked it and did not understand why others did. He startles a waitress when he stands as she walks by. "Bring me warm milk. He's paying." He points to his new business partner.
“You’ll have to excuse H'ishmau, he’s not big on commitment.” Koros comments while reaching for the large cat man’s untouched drink. “Unfortunately his last steady job wasn’t exactly the kind one volunteers for, nor was it the kind one can walk away from easily, so I understand his hesitation.” He downs both the drink he’d freshly poured for himself, and the drink meant for his teetotaler friend, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “Still, I trust Hish with my life, and if you play him straight I think you can do the same”
Koros took a moment to enjoy the feeling of the alcohol flowing through his veins. He had consumed his first alcoholic drink not long ago in this very bar. It was when he first arrived on station, and not long before he had met H’ishmau. In not long at all he had grown accustomed to the relaxing quality of the alcohol, and to the lowering of inhibitions that came with it. In fact were it not for the couple of drinks he had earlier in the evening, Koros may not have broken the rules set for him by A’luna the night he met H’ishmau and minded his own business. He was sure A’luna would be less than happy with his vice. Then again not thinking about his dead mentor was the main reason he drank.
H'ishmau and Koros
Jace looks up unimpressed at H'ishmau, though the smile does fall away from his lips. He nods once to the waitress that he will pay for H'ish's milk and she runs off to get it, a little quicker than is perhaps necessary.
Jace continues to lean back casually in his chair, his eyes boring into H'ishmau's and for a long time he says nothing, studying the Togorian and listening to Koros' defence of his friend.
"Actually..." The young Zeltron starts, and his voice isn't nearly as flippant as it was before. It isn't threatening, in any way. But it's calm, and deadly serious. "The truth is that your "rule" is a very big problem."
Jace leans forward now, looking between H'ishmau and Koros, "I'm not some slug of a crime boss and this isn't a mercenary gig. What we are doing is very dangerous, very deadly and with any luck, is going to help a lot of people. So no, I have no interest in someone who's going to walk away at any moment, because if I'm going to hell and back then I want to know that the guy beside me has got my six."
He shakes his head a little sadly and stands up from the table, taking a second to check the chronometer on his wrist, and to toss a few credit chips on the table. he looks to Koros first, "You weren't sloppy. The people I'm working with are good," he says in response to Koros' earlier question about how Jace knew his name, he then focuses on H'ishmau one last time, "We're not looking for a payday or some kind of score, we're fighting a war that the rest of the Galaxy hasn't even clued into yet, one to make sure that things like what happened to you, never happen again."
He sighs and shrugs, pulling an access card from his jacket pocket and drops it on the table. "If you two do decide your serious about whatever it is you sought us out for, then come to hangar 13 in Docking Bay Theta." The young Zeltron stuffs his hands in his pockets and walks away, giving a wave to the two, "The offer's open for thirty minutes, after that... hope you have a nice life."
Aran, Zee and Cordal
Dak shoots a look to Aran before turning back to the Whiphid, "He says it as good as I can, just what are you looking for, I mean we're just a cargo hauler..."
"Cargo is exactly what I need to have hauled, well and a few passengers." He glances around the busy hangar deck before turning back to the Wanderer's crew, "Getting the cargo won't be simple, it would take a fair amount of skill in the coming and in the leaving, and possibly some leg work if your crew was comfortable with that." The Whiphid shrugs noncommittally, "You'll have to forgive me, but some details simply musn't be discussed, we all have need of secrets from time to time..."
With that, he passes a small access key to Captain Varess, "Should you be interested, come to Hangar 13, as fast as possible though, I'm afraid I'm on a schedule." He nods and turns to leave.
As Zee watches this unfold, he learns that of the two bounty guilds on this station, one offers a rewards of 1000 credits, the other only 500. The Imperial bureau offers a reward of up to 10 000 credits for any "information that leads to the successful capture of..." However Zee comes across even more interesting information. As he combs the databanks of the holonet, he finds evidence that leads him to believe that this Whiphid isn't just a fugitive, but is in fact a Jedi fugitive named K'kruhk.
H'ishmau receives his milk as Jace walks away. He sips it in a surprisingly delicate fashion as he considers the offer. Could he accept being a willing captive for a good cause? Would the cause allow him to return to Togoria with his head held high, no longer just a former slave? The fact that the unusual Zeltron was able to walk away without threatening him helped nudge him towards joining.
While he isn't sure, he knows that he can trust Koros with the decision. "What do you think? Do we go? I don't like being kept, but I don't want to waste a chance like this." Hish continues drinking the milk as he ponders the decision.
Perception
Aran grins sheepishly at the captain's reprimand. Sometimes he just couldn't help it. He listens to the alien's request and waits for the captain's response (or lack thereof).
Aran watches thoughtfully as he walks off. "I wonder if he's new at this or just leading us on. No details, no price... just mysteries and a cryptic insinuation of danger. Hell, I wouldn't be surprised if he was a Jedi with that kinda talk." Aran laughs lightly, clearly joking. After a moment's introspection about Cordal's earlier reaction and the look the Whiphid gave, he looks to the pilot.
"Say, Cord... I can't help but notice... Do you know that guy?"
Zee waits till the whiphid is gone and the crew of the Wanderer have a quiet spot to 'talk' and then he flashes on to his video screen his 'news'.
He flashes up the going rates;
Tipsters 500 credits
Bounty Bucks 1000 credits
He then pauses for a moment and then puts up
Imperial Bureau 10 000 credits
for information leading to the arrest and capture of ...
He gives his audience several seconds to absorb the information displayed before putting up a new screen. He uses his small Binary whistler to hum the Imperial March.
It is a picture of the Whiphid with the words
suspected Jedi K'kruhk
Zee then decides this is probably a good moment to discuss something else.
After revealing this information, he keeps humming the Imperial March and displays the CGI stock image of three Star Destroyers exiting hyperspace. He then shows a brief station navigation warning of the Star Destroyers being given priority and all other vessels being warned off from getting in their way.
Last, he shows the image of each of the crew followed by a set of bars slamming down in front of them along with a picture grabbed from news the holovids of slaves being taken away to serve. Zee shows an image of himself being disassembled by some cruel overseer droid cackling as he rips parts off of Zee.
“I think that little outburst from our friend proves he’s not just someone looking to make a score from ripping off the Empire.” Koros says, adjusting his hooded long coat as he stood up. “I think he’s the real deal, and I think this group of his may be exactly who we were looking for.” The Zabrak leans to one side, looking at the chrono on the wall behind Hish. “Aaaaaaaand, I think we’re going to need to hurry if we want to pack up, check out of the hostel and make it down to Docking Bay Theta in thirty minutes.”
Hish downs the remainder of the milk with a satisfied gulp. "Good enough for me."
The Togorian and the Zabrak return to their lodging and check out. It will be good to get someplace where Hish isn't so cramped. The pair then heads over to the location, ready for the mission.
Cordal goes very, very still. "Jedi? Huh, I don't know much about that. I just figured, you know, claws and big, probably dangerous, but if he's hiring us, you know, it's fine by me..."
Deception:
Perception:
Perception Episode 2: Attack of the Reroll Talents (Acute Senses)
The mechanic's mouth drops wide open, and works a little bit before he can finally speak. "I was kidding!"
Aran looks suspiciously at Cordal, not seeming entirely convinced, but then shrugs it off. Maybe a Whiphid had beaten him up before or stolen his lunch credits when he was a kid or something. There were more important matters now, and whatever was bothering the pilot wasn't going to get them killed. Or at least not as quickly as consorting with Jedi.
"I dunno, Cord, cap', I agree with Zee. I... Uh." The gears in his head are clearly turning, and the look in his eyes indicate he's more than a little interested - and more than a little scared. "Well I dunno. Maybe we should hear him out? We can always back out, and if they catch us with him we're just after the bounty, right? Maybe they won't shoot us. Too much."
Zee notes that Cordal continues to maintain his 'cover' identity of not knowing K'kruhk. Zee doesn't know why but that was the nature of biologicals. They lied on who released pockets of excess gas from their system; so, was it any wonder that they lied on who they knew or had known?
"...Maybe they won't shoot us. Too much."
At those words, Zee shows a little graphic of a stick figure pulling out an umbrella and holding it front of them only to have many bullets or blaster beams rip through the umbrella and riddle the body of the stick figure. The stick figure is blown back and lands in a hole with a little flower and a tombstone marked R.I.P.
Aran, Cordal and Zee
The Captain listens to Aran and Cordal and watches the messages that Zee flashes across his screen. "Well, I've known a few Jedi in my day, and a few Imps... I'll take Jedi. Besides, we can always walk away." He smiles and offers an apologetic shrug to Zee, "Its a life of risks, buddy."
Without another word of debate the Captain turns to lead the three of them to this meeting, but shoots a quick look to Cordal as if to say I know you're hiding something... but doesn't say anything before radioing for Leea to meet up with the rest of them.
Everyone
Each of Trinity's Starports has a number of private hangars that can be rented. The benefits of these are numerous, the most obvious of which are security and privacy. These hangars can also range from opulent, with top of the line maintenance facilities, round the clock deck crew and private transportation around the station, to utilitarian; little more than a box to put your ship in.
Hangar 13 falls into the latter of those two categories. The hangar, while actually relatively small, seems cavernous when Koros, H'ishmau and the crew of the Wanderer arrive. Various cargo crates are stacked off to the side, none larger than a meter long and a meter high. Two starships, from the size and basic shape you presume them to be fighters, lay off to the side, dormant under heavy tarps. close to those ships is a single table with a number of crates scattered around it for seating and a small holoprojector in the middle.
Both K'kruhk and Jace are waiting, each dressed in a dark green flightsuit, though the large Whiphid has his tied around his waist.
As each one enters the Whiphid nods a greeting and says "I'm glad you made this choice."
However, before more formal introductions can be made, Jace Bryar's eyes go wide when he sees Cordal Mhoy. "Cordal!" He shouts upon seeing the man, taking off at a run for him and grinning ear to ear. He pulls the Duros into a strong hug, laughing all the while, "I can't believe your alive! by the force I'd thought you were dead for sure!"
While H'ishmau doesn't know any of these people, none of them had so far tried anything that would make him suspicious. He simply stands back and watches Jace as he embraces one of the members of the other group. This doesn't really seem like the kind of situation he should speak in.
He spots the small cleaning droid and involuntarily lets out a low growl. He doesn't understand the metal contraptions and thus does not like them.