Star Wars: Spheres of the Force (GM Terrigan) (Inactive)

Game Master Syrus Terrigan

Initiative Rolls Block:
Zargro [dice]1d20+3[/dice]
Zev [dice]1d20+3[/dice]
Hayden [dice]1d20+4[/dice]
Theta-Zero [dice]1d20+3[/dice]
Vadi [dice]1d20+3[/dice]
Rhea [dice]1d20+3[/dice]
Le' [dice]1d20+3[/dice]

Perception Rolls Block:
Zargro [dice]1d20+5[/dice]
Zev [dice]1d20+6[/dice]
Hayden [dice]1d20+4[/dice]
Theta-Zero [dice]1d20+4[/dice]
Vadi [dice]1d20+5[/dice]
Rhea [dice]1d20+8[/dice]
Le' [dice]1d20+3[/dice]

Initiative Order: --


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Sage 1 | HP: 8/8, WP: 24/24 | AC: 18{19}, T: 17{18}, FF: 15 | Fort: +3, Ref: +5{+6}, Will: +6 | M. Touch: +3{+4} (1d6 + 1d6) | CMB: +3, CMD: 17{18} | Init: +3{+4}, Perception: +8, Pilot: +7{+8}

I have no idea what my actual stat for a Force Use skill is, and definitely didn't put points into it, so I'm assuming 1d20 + Wis Mod. 8D Feel free to adjust my result if that's wrong.

Force Use?: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (4) + 4 = 8

And yeah, Rhea's kind of bunkered and watching things, so feel free to railroad her in if you need to. XD I don't mind.


Male Mandalorian Conscript 1 | HP 12/12 | WP 28 | AC 13 T 13 FF 10 | Fort +4 Ref +5 Will +4 | Initiative +3 | Perception +6 |

Zev raises his eyes slowly, looking towards Lofkte with restrained anger. "Fine. I need a blaster." he says through gritted teeth before casting a glance at Kreshell.

The feeling of helplessness that had become so familiar to the Mandalorian since his capture was beginning to aggravate him.

If there is any stray cutlery floating around the table, Zev is going to try and snatch something on the sly with the hopes of making a shiv later on. Y'know, just in case.

Sleight of hand to palm a knife or fork from the table to use as a shiv: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (16) + 3 = 19


Le' Za-Deen | zabrak | lvl1 sanctified slayer | male | AC:14, T:13, F:11 | HP:8/8, WP:28 | FORT +6, REF +3, WILL +7 (+2 v. charm and cumpulsion) | CMB +2, CMD 15

Gm

Spoiler:
force use: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (17) + 4 = 21


Your Force Use modifier is +7, Za-deen. So you got a 24 on that check. It's Wis-based. :D

Also: Gameplay will be advanced this evening once my shift is over.


Everyone

Lofkte snorts derisively and retorts, You can buy a blaster out of your cut, kid. I provide opportunities, not handouts. He turns to Zargro and adds: Spice Rush isn't the fastest -- we've got a three-week window to finish the job, so breaking atmo soonest is a good idea. Good luck!

Caandra's "shipping director" certainly hasn't forgotten about Vadi -- he begins to turn away from the pair at the table, his posture and grin settling into 'less-work-more-play' as he meets her eyes. Without even looking in her direction as he passes back the datapad, he tells Fliina: Caandra can cool her jets for a minute -- getting somebody on that job will buy us some leniency. Let's see what this pretty lady wants.

----------

Le' Za-deen is just taking his first steps toward the cluster of guards, intent on acquiring a job -- If you run a security team of five, might as well keep it at five. No time like now to find work. --, when his rage washes over him, as fresh and burning as it was back . . . . No. That's not mine. In that nanosecond of realization, Za-deen's crystal clarity stretches farther than it ever has before: violence was imminent, it would be widespread but focused in this room, those responsible had trained their rage, and his own path was . . . to go beyond the chaos??!

The changed perspective brings another surprise, but one not tied to any 'special' awareness: out of the corner of his eye, he sees a young human dressed in nondescript robes somewhat like his own, but all-too-familiar to one with his training. Jedi! Reaching into the vision just granted him, he sees that the Jedi has a destiny similar to his own -- to ride the cresting wave of aggression toward some other destination, not to meet might with might.

-----------

Through the rumbling murmur of voices, laughter, clattering utensils, and the faint echoing booms of the ongoing demolition work far below, Hayden BeShawn hears the deal being closed between Lofkte and the Devaronian. That subtle resonance that defies natural laws is a thing the young man has learned to trust, and he is in motion before he is even aware of it.

Exasperated Query: Did you not just advise delay, Jedi Hayden? But the droid quickly follows the human in Lofkte's direction, all the same. Noting that more and more paths are converging on the tall human's position, Theta-Zero feels a spark of anticipation rush through his servomotors.

----------

As the human and the HK droid begin to hasten toward Lofkte's retinue, Rhea is shocked when the ring on her finger forcibly pulls her arm in the direction of the droid! With a brief strain, the Hapan woman pulls her arm back to rest across her waist, below the tabletop. And the ring jerks toward the droid again, even swinging her hand to track the droid's path. Her discomfiture serves to dislodge another stray block of intel data -- though the particular means were never discovered, three former Hapan field operatives confirmed that a large number of HK droids were functioning across the known galaxy just over three years ago, and the synchronicity of their actions could only point to a communication method that operated near-instantaneously, and from the Core to the Outer Rim. This. Is. A. LEAD.

----------

Now that she has Jebber Lofkte's full attention, Vadi Sarnassi once again puts on her best smile and steps eagerly in his direction. Just as she arrives outside of arm's reach and Lofkte takes a breath before speaking, every electronic device in line of sight flickers for just a few seconds, and then goes dark. A hush pierces the midday gloom, as even the floodlights illuminating the bronzium monument in the plaza fail and wink out.

A shadow in the blackness, Jebber's voice rings out: Get on the comms and find out what the stang is going on, Fliina! There is no hesitation whatever in the response, even as the lights come back up. Every signal is jammed! I can't even access datafiles on this hunk of junk!

At once, Vadi feels herself in two places simultaneously: standing in the middle of a busy room with a host of concerned sentients, but also hustling down a cramped corridor, . . . hot on the heels of the Devaronian and human who've just concluded their meeting with the rangy Jebber. What is this?!

The Twi'lek gambler notices Fliina turn her piercing blue gaze back to her boss just as the matching lightning-blue of a storm of stun bolts erupts from within the tapcaf! The flurry of fire whizzes past her, and Vadi cannot believe she hasn't been struck; Jebber and his crew, on the other hand, are not so lucky -- she hears the crash and shattering of glass as even the dismissed Parck is eliminated by the attackers. Just beneath the screams, nearly every being in the Red Comet Chaser hears the fluttering burble of stealth field deactivations.

A distorted voice buzzes: Targets down. Grab that chakaar so we can haul his shebs to the boat. A pause. Boran! Ping the gunship!!

GM Rolls:
Initiative!
Zargro 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (12) + 3 = 15
Zev 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (8) + 3 = 11
Hayden 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (1) + 4 = 5
Theta-Zero 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (10) + 3 = 13
Vadi 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (20) + 3 = 23
Rhea 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (15) + 3 = 18
Le' 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (4) + 3 = 7
Mandalorians 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (5) + 10 = 15


Initiative Order: Vadi, Rhea, Kreshell, Mandalorians, Theta-Zero, Zev, Za-deen, Hayden

There is a mad rush toward the two exits along the storefront as the eatery empties. The four sentients working security for the business drop their armaments to the floor -- even the burly, scarred Shistavanen. Why quickly becomes apparent: distinct in their T-visored full-body armor, seven Mandalorian warriors are expertly positioned throughout the room, weapons trained on the guard quartet or covering the area near Jebber's collapsed form. Though there is no doubt these are Mandalorians, it is strange to see that they are not wearing the too-familiar Neo-Crusader armor that was on every holofeed in the galaxy not many years past -- rather than monochromatic suits indicating rank and prowess, these suits of durasteel alloy are outfitted with a variety of color patterns. The only common identifier among the seven is a symbol, a unit sigil: a black sword, sheathed in red flame, pointed downward within a white diamond-shaped field.

Nestled against the knee wall that frames the gaming den's elevated platform, a stocky Mando calls out: Carid's bringing the ship in now. Crowd control, start popping that riot gas so we don't have to haul him over any 'innocent bystanders'. Jir! Cuff and carry!

Allrightythen, people! Let's get to it!


Zev:
There was no cutlery on the table at which you've been sitting. I should have responded to that sooner.


Female Twi'Lek - Fake name: Meda Calanir - Eliciter 2 | HP 20/20 WP 28/28 | AC: 16, T: 13, FF: 13 | Fort: +4, Ref: +4, Will: +3 | BAB: +1, CMB: +0/+4, CMD: 13, M.Attack +4 [1d6], R.Attack +4 [1d6]| Init: +3 | Perception: +6 | Hypnotism 4/4 | SP: 7/7

It's ok, I was just a bit confused.

Now? Now of all times?

Patting down Lofkte for credit chips runs through Vadi's mind, but as much as she needs money, she doesn't need blaster fire down her throat. Vaulting behind the sturdiest cover she can find, she draws her blaster, hoping that she doesn't have to use it.

Move to move behind cover, standard to draw blaster.


Sage 1 | HP: 8/8, WP: 24/24 | AC: 18{19}, T: 17{18}, FF: 15 | Fort: +3, Ref: +5{+6}, Will: +6 | M. Touch: +3{+4} (1d6 + 1d6) | CMB: +3, CMD: 17{18} | Init: +3{+4}, Perception: +8, Pilot: +7{+8}

Enhancer: On. Using the numbers in brackets.

She'd already focused on her inner power to augment her speed - and that was probably for the best, though she took just a moment to refresh it. She had to maintain her connection in order to keep benefiting from it. Perhaps more to the point... her ring (a living creature, albeit for an odd understanding of what life really was) happened to be quite insistent about getting involved. Well, it had never led her wrong before...

There were many benefits to dressing up like the lady she was - chief among them being the way other people tended to underestimate her. The droid was with that man, that man was apparently on good terms with the man that had just been stunned... which meant the Mandalorians were between her and some sweet, sweet technology.

That, and she'd never much liked them. Given their numbers, though, this was no time to be stingy. Ducking low to take advantage of her booth's cover, Rhea reached out and touched the back of the closest commando... and a shockwave erupted out of her hand. If she was going to save their targets, they needed to go down hard and fast... so they were about to learn just how dangerous a Hapan lady could be.

Force Pulse (Melee Touch): 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (11) + 4 = 15 for Piercing Damage: 3d6 ⇒ (5, 3, 6) = 14
Ki: 5/6.


Scholar 1 | HP: 6/6, WP: 20/20 | AC: 13, T: 13, FF: 10 | Fort: +0, Ref: +5, Will: +3 | CMD: 13 | Init: +3, Perception: +5

Kreshell quickly looks around, assessing the situation. Though he is surprised at these turn of events, he wouldn't be where he was now if he was bad at quick thinking. Mere moments after the shots fly he sees his opening. "Zev, no questions, just follow me," he whispers as he slips his blaster under Zevs shirt.
Sleight of Hand: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (19) + 7 = 26

He begins running frantically, like the other patrons, toward an exit ensuring that Lofkte's body is in that path. As he reaches Lofkte's body, making it appear as if he did not see it, he trips over the body.
Bluff: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (19) + 7 = 26

Crumpling over, he makes to picking up his cane and hat as he grabs the datapads off of Lofkte and stashes them in his hat, covering them with a black kerchief.. He then awkwardly gets back up and continues on his path to the exit.
Sleight of Hand: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (17) + 7 = 24


Vadi cuts across the field of fire to duck into the booth adjacent to Zargro's. Booth or a highboy -- easy choice! No shots ring out as she reaches the bulky cover of the table. Then the young gambler unholsters her pistol as the adrenaline courses through her.

Dice Behind the Screen (Keep Out!):
Alert Mandalorians! (Perception): 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (11) + 7 = 18
1d20 + 7 ⇒ (4) + 7 = 11
1d20 + 7 ⇒ (15) + 7 = 22
1d20 + 9 ⇒ (10) + 9 = 19
1d20 + 9 ⇒ (8) + 9 = 17
1d20 + 11 ⇒ (15) + 11 = 26
1d20 + 15 ⇒ (14) + 15 = 29


A few calls of Blaster! Blaster! ring out from the three warriors nearest the "meeting table". The Mando covering the left flank from halfway between the exits and the kitchen is just about to cry out a warning of his own when Rhea descends upon him. Her strike is sure, but she can feel the dense plating beneath the durasteel shell dissipate some of the force of her strike. Still, the blow drives the trooper forward, his boots clattering across the floor. What the?!

As the surprised soldier begins to spin in place to meet a new threat, Rhea can see over his armored shoulder. The Devaronian captain, newly-appointed, appears to fuss over some part of his peculiar outfit before he bolts toward the establishment's front door. And then face-plants across the prone form of his new employer. In any other setting, it would make for great slapstick humor; that doesn't seem to bother the Mandalorians, though -- buzzing chuckles, and even one belly laugh, echo across the duracrete flooring.

Kreshell: I'm ruling that passing the blaster to Zev, though stealthily, constituted a move action, as did the few steps + trip and fall sequence. Your check to snag the datacards will stand, but it won't be confirmed until the next round.

A second round of cries of Blaster! Blaster! rings out, since Zev finds himself with a much-needed weapon at the focal point of Mandalorian mayhem. Still, no more shots have been fired -- yet. The two commandos covering the exits heave two grenades each onto the promenade, cloying yellow smoke adding a new level of obscurity to Nar Shaddaa's atmosphere.

Rhea's opponent turns those stuttering steps into momentum for a spinning leg sweep . . .

Open Hand Trip Attempt: 1d20 + 5 - 2 ⇒ (13) + 5 - 2 = 16

. . . but the Hapan deftly skips over the maneuver as the Mandalorian rises in place. Finding an empty-handed, well-dressed woman behind him, he hesitates, and asks, incredulously: Did you just punch me?!


Got some real life to do at the present. Will finish this sequence later today. Pause Game.


Kreshell, splayed over the supine Lofkte, feels the flooring vibrate with the strides of an approaching commando. Those boots are almost as nice as Jebber's! One hand "trapped" beneath his torso (scrabbling at his boss's pocket), Zargro tilts his head to meet the implacable gaze of the armored brute before him. Move, Horn-head. I don't get bonus pay for moving you.

Across the spread of stools and highboy tables, the short Mandalorian issues a wordless cry and rushes from the knee wall toward Rhea and his perplexed subordinate, aiming to shoulder-check the woman back into her booth.

Low Center of Gravity + Bull Rush: 1d20 + 10 + 2 + 2 ⇒ (5) + 10 + 2 + 2 = 19

Rhea's ring flares with glinting light that flashes between herself and the onrushing warrior, but he succeeds in shoving her into the booth edge -- a partial success.

You aren't one of Lokte's, and you're not part of the job. Stay out of the way, and we won't have to stun you.


Meanwhile, as the gas grenades vomit more low-hanging clouds of yellow, the howl of fully-engaged repulsorlifts is heard. A series of phoontphoontphoont concussions echoes through the open transparisteel doors, and more riot gas spreads across the pedwalk plaza. A large twin-engine gunship descends between the Red Comet Chaser and Caandra's vainglorious monument, the port hatch open wide, revealing a manned heavy blaster turret and a crew chief in the personnel bay.

Boat's on the ground, boss! shouts one of the crowd control troops.

The last two Mandos, supporting the mountainous individual addressing Zargro, both sidestep toward the room's edges, their twin heavy blaster pistols panning across the motley assemblage.

"Final Four" -- you're up!


Zev:
Just so you know: you're aware that the rear access to the RCC kitchen opens onto a cargo corridor that leads directly to the northwest landing pads, where Spice Rush is docked. Following Kreshell out the front door might not be the best idea . . . .

Za-deen:
Rhea and the pair of Mandalorians are between you and the snarl of bodies next to the kitchen doors. 'Crowd controllers' to your 6 o'clock and 3 o'clock (a *distant* 3).

Hayden/Theta-Zero:
You two are beelining along the row of booth seating. Vadi's hidey-hole is about 15' ahead of Hayden, and to the right. 'Crowd controllers' at 5 and 8 on the clock; Rhea and 'escorts' at 9; "Action Central" dead ahead, about 30 feet.

I had some general announcement or another to make, but I got interrupted and have forgotten it . . . . Carry on!


Male Mandalorian Conscript 1 | HP 12/12 | WP 28 | AC 13 T 13 FF 10 | Fort +4 Ref +5 Will +4 | Initiative +3 | Perception +6 |

Mando'a:
Calm down, comrade! I am Mandalorian!
"Udesii , Vod! Ni Mando'ad!" Zev exclaims at the sight of his potential kin. He carefully maintains his gentle grip on the blaster Kreshell slipped to him in the fray, keeping it hidden from sight as best he can. "What's going on here?"

He calls out to the fallen Devaronian in Huttese, hoping he is understood.

Huttese:
"Slowly make your way back to me, I know a better way to the ship."


Le' Za-Deen | zabrak | lvl1 sanctified slayer | male | AC:14, T:13, F:11 | HP:8/8, WP:28 | FORT +6, REF +3, WILL +7 (+2 v. charm and cumpulsion) | CMB +2, CMD 15

GM

Spoiler:
move action to head towards the kitchen, move action study closest mando

Le' Za heads towards the kitchen doors, inquisitively he studies one of the mando's closest to him.


I don't know what our holdup is for Hayden and Theta-Zero, so I'm gonna push through their delayed action so we can get the rest of this moving. I think we've waited more than long enough.


As the lone Zabrak moves deeper into the tapcaf, he sizes up the stocky Mandalorian called "Boran", and his gaze is met with unsettling, steady regard. Za-Deen moves within a few steps of the clustered Hapan and Mando pair, giving no sign of his intentions. You can make a bit of conversation here, Le', if you like, but post no other actions until your turn in initiative comes back around.

What do you want, Zabrak? the taller of the two asks.

----------

Zev's use of Mando'a elicits a few curiously cocked heads from some of the warriors nearby, and the burly Jir, looming over Zargro, mutters: You know some words, but you're not Mando till you keep the Resol'nare. Where's your beskar'gam, for starters?

----------

Just gonna leave it at that, for now, so Rhea, Zargro, and Vadi can act again. If and when we hear from Hayden and Theta-Zero, we'll adjust the initiative order as needed.


Female Twi'Lek - Fake name: Meda Calanir - Eliciter 2 | HP 20/20 WP 28/28 | AC: 16, T: 13, FF: 13 | Fort: +4, Ref: +4, Will: +3 | BAB: +1, CMB: +0/+4, CMD: 13, M.Attack +4 [1d6], R.Attack +4 [1d6]| Init: +3 | Perception: +6 | Hypnotism 4/4 | SP: 7/7

Hearing speak in Huttese, Vadi replies in the same language. "Boska! Je hopa chuta, oto magoosa ovv planeeto!"

Huttese:
"Let's go! I'll help you, if you'll get me off this planet!"

I don't have any reason to fight or help Rhea right now, so I'm holding my action.


Male Human (Corellian) Jedi Sentinel (Magus) 1 | HP 8/8; WP 24/24; FP 5/5 | AC 17; Tou 17; FF 13 | F +3; R +4; W +2 | CMB +1; CMD 15; MSB +1; MSD 15 | Init +4 Perception +4

Hayden, still riding the pull of the force finds himself altering course with ease, looking and feeling as if he'd been heading that way the whole time.

Move action: Close distance to Zargro while palming his collapsed quarterstaff off his belt.

He reaches the pedestrian traffic jam all worried smiles and placations. Stooping to help the Devaronian find his feet, he addresses him in an expansive tone of galactic basic, "Sir! You should watch your footing. Let me help you out of the way while these fine folk do their job. Are you injured?"

Handy Dandy Huttese in sotto-voice:
"I'll add to her offer if you're carrying passengers."

(Readied) Swift: Extend Staff; Standard: Melee attack at reach (one handed reach weapon position); Trigger: Hostile advancement from any of the armored mandalorians.


Sage 1 | HP: 8/8, WP: 24/24 | AC: 18{19}, T: 17{18}, FF: 15 | Fort: +3, Ref: +5{+6}, Will: +6 | M. Touch: +3{+4} (1d6 + 1d6) | CMB: +3, CMD: 17{18} | Init: +3{+4}, Perception: +8, Pilot: +7{+8}

I'm gonna assume he doesn't provoke AoO's, given that bonus at this level, but feel free to correct me if I'm wrong there. XD

Now a man was trying to tell her what to do? Pfaw. "Hmph!" Rhea's response was to drive her palm right towards his stomach.

Melee Touch: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (3) + 4 = 7

Unfortunately, this time around she looked like she'd missed him... which probably had the effect of making her looking like a flailing, but generally not that dangerous, lady. Nothing for a big, bad, well-trained warrior to get upset over, right?


Sage 1 | HP: 8/8, WP: 24/24 | AC: 18{19}, T: 17{18}, FF: 15 | Fort: +3, Ref: +5{+6}, Will: +6 | M. Touch: +3{+4} (1d6 + 1d6) | CMB: +3, CMD: 17{18} | Init: +3{+4}, Perception: +8, Pilot: +7{+8}

Bluff: 1d20 ⇒ 4

...She's good at sweet-talking people, not lying to them. XD


Female Twi'Lek - Fake name: Meda Calanir - Eliciter 2 | HP 20/20 WP 28/28 | AC: 16, T: 13, FF: 13 | Fort: +4, Ref: +4, Will: +3 | BAB: +1, CMB: +0/+4, CMD: 13, M.Attack +4 [1d6], R.Attack +4 [1d6]| Init: +3 | Perception: +6 | Hypnotism 4/4 | SP: 7/7

Looking over the scene, Vadi cringed at the woman twirling around. She seems alone, and she seems a stranger, which means she must have a ship or a place in one... Having two aces is better than one.

Acting on pure instinct, Vadi extended her arm at the Mandalorian fighting the Hapan, speaking with an unnatural calm.
"She is harmless. Just report to your superior."

Suggestion charm, Will DC 15 or he obeys. I think it's a basic request, so it shouldn't cost a spell point.


Scholar 1 | HP: 6/6, WP: 20/20 | AC: 13, T: 13, FF: 10 | Fort: +0, Ref: +5, Will: +3 | CMD: 13 | Init: +3, Perception: +5

Finishing his pickpocketing, Kreshell stands with hat and cane in hand and begins making his way back to Zev. "Thank you young man! This hubbub got me a bit excited is all, Ezevander!" addressing Zev, "Take me out of here."


Kreshell -- you were assisted to your feet by the staff-wielding human being trailed by a droid, and have been addressed by the Twi'lek and the helpful human, both! And the *large* Mandalorian standing over Lofkte, too! No need for a monologue, but do you want to react to any of that?

If we get no further word from Yoricks within about 20 hours, I'll advance the action some more -- just want to give Saashaa some time to narrate more, if desired.


Scholar 1 | HP: 6/6, WP: 20/20 | AC: 13, T: 13, FF: 10 | Fort: +0, Ref: +5, Will: +3 | CMD: 13 | Init: +3, Perception: +5

my brain seems to have separated from me.

Finishing his pickpocketing, Kreshell stands with hat and cane in hand with the aid of a random human, "Thank you young man! This hubbub got me a bit excited is all," also sending a wink the way of the human, droid, and twi'lek. Kreshell then turns toward the menacing Manaldorian. "He's all yours. Forgive my knee jerk reaction sir. Ezevander!" addressing and walking toward Zev, "Take me out of here!"


Shame on me: Hayden's collapsible staff is still collapsed -- I somehow missed the "readied" tag. Derp.


Vadi's target appears to understand the intent behind Rhea's "waving hand technique", but . . . Will: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (18) + 1 = 19 . . . stutters a breath before exclaiming, Report to him?! He's right here!! And then he swings his plated shins toward the Hapan's ankles, trying to show his superior he isn't in need of intervention.

Remember Vega's leg sweep on Street Fighter II? Maybe this time . . . . (Open Hand Leg Sweep): 1d20 + 5 - 2 ⇒ (15) + 5 - 2 = 18


Having to break this up, as my phone can't keep up . . . . I need a laptop!!

Rhea's legs are knocked from under her, and she crumples to the duracrete pad with a cry of anguish and rage. There is no hesitation as the Mandalorian presses his assault, throwing an open-handed strike of his own at the woman's chin.

You might get lucky here, Rhea, 'cause the boards ate a post that was definitely not moving in your favor . . . .

WavingTearingGrasping: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (11) + 5 = 16

Nearly forgot Active Defense! Close!!

The strange ring illumines the space between Rhea and her adversary with argent light, and his blow glances past her chin. Need Jir to show me that again . . . . he muses to himself, as though no one were there to listen.

Boran's Sense Motive: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (12) + 2 = 14


Boran chuckles as his subordinate takes the strange lady to the ground, and immediately turns back to his primary objective. With supreme confidence he trundles up beside Jir, who has just cuffed the unconscious Lofkte with practiced ease. Your protege still needs more practice, Jir. That lady's giving him fits! . . . . Gimme that sack of meat, and don't forget the breath mask. There is no strain at all from Boran as he shoulders Jebber's weight, passed gently from the towering striker. Jir then slaps a self-sealing breath mask over their bounty's lower face.

The two commandos stationed at the exits move into the plaza, disdaining the riot gas from within their armor. They cover the pathway between the tapcaf and the gunship in what appears a nonchalant manner.

The last two Mandos continue their "holding pattern" -- weapons up and eyes focused on nothing.

They've gotten what they came for, it seems -- and as soon as that one wild woman is no longer an issue, it appears this team will be well on its way elsewhere . . . .

Nothing untoward was directed at the cluster of Hayden, HK, Zev, Kreshell, and Vadi, and since Rhea's . . . "entanglement" is outside BeShawn's reach, I didn't call for an attack.

Everyone else: take your actions!

With *one* addendum: there's ONE MORE PIECE OF DIALOGUE COMING that is important. You'll all hear it, regardless of how you proceed. Just don't sprint out the back doors, so we're not pressed with a breach of plausibility . . . .


Male Human (Corellian) Jedi Sentinel (Magus) 1 | HP 8/8; WP 24/24; FP 5/5 | AC 17; Tou 17; FF 13 | F +3; R +4; W +2 | CMB +1; CMD 15; MSB +1; MSD 15 | Init +4 Perception +4

The Force is moving. That woman over there... hm... odd that it's so faint.

Force Use: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (1) + 4 = 5
To determine strength and general intent of the ability after finally sensing it in the excitement.

Taking a quick glance across the room to get a heading, he turns quickly to HK, "He winked; we're in. Stick with him," he points at Zargro, "and I will be back in a moment. I know this isn't planned, but you gotta roll with the..."

The euphamism is lost in the wind as he quickly moves to place himself near, but out of reach of, the Mandos menacing Rhea. Keeping his staff palmed, he hollers to her above the din, "Excuse me ma'am, but I think we're going to have to relocate our meeting to a different locale! If you care to follow me, you can join with our conveyance."

Move action: Close to the altercation, ~10' from the mando closest. Standard and Swift readied as before.


Female Twi'Lek - Fake name: Meda Calanir - Eliciter 2 | HP 20/20 WP 28/28 | AC: 16, T: 13, FF: 13 | Fort: +4, Ref: +4, Will: +3 | BAB: +1, CMB: +0/+4, CMD: 13, M.Attack +4 [1d6], R.Attack +4 [1d6]| Init: +3 | Perception: +6 | Hypnotism 4/4 | SP: 7/7

Why an I doing this? Ah, right. A way out.

Emboldened by the lack of blaster fire, Vadi holsters her own before stepping out of cover. Her eyes lock on the Mandalorian as her body moves with the lithe agility of her species, in a serpentine, sinuous pattern. "Please, good sir, there is no need for hostility and to cause a scene. The woman was likely just startled, I believe she has learned her lesson. How about we just keep it civil?"

Hypnotism: fascinate. Will DC 15 or he does nothing but stare at me for 1 round.


Vadi, please clarify which Mando you're targeting.

Boran and Jir (toting Jebber) are within 10' of you, dead ahead. One pistolier is about 15' left; the other is about 35' to your 11'o'clock. The one wrestling Rhea to the ground is about 25' to your 10'o'clock.

I *think* I know which one, but I want to be as sure as possible. :)


Female Twi'Lek - Fake name: Meda Calanir - Eliciter 2 | HP 20/20 WP 28/28 | AC: 16, T: 13, FF: 13 | Fort: +4, Ref: +4, Will: +3 | BAB: +1, CMB: +0/+4, CMD: 13, M.Attack +4 [1d6], R.Attack +4 [1d6]| Init: +3 | Perception: +6 | Hypnotism 4/4 | SP: 7/7

The one who's wrestling Rhea, hypnotism is at Close range so I can get to him from where I'm at.


Sage 1 | HP: 8/8, WP: 24/24 | AC: 18{19}, T: 17{18}, FF: 15 | Fort: +3, Ref: +5{+6}, Will: +6 | M. Touch: +3{+4} (1d6 + 1d6) | CMB: +3, CMD: 17{18} | Init: +3{+4}, Perception: +8, Pilot: +7{+8}

Incidentally, it's fine to flavor her active defense as simply stopping stuff with her hands. XD That IS the scene that inspired the whole character, after all.

As someone else started talking to the man, Rhea seized her chance and vaulted over the side of the area, aiming to get out of immediate melee range as she began moving in the same direction as that HK droid. She knew the value of that thing, and she wanted answers - and it wasn't like she actually needed to beat down every Mandalorian in the building herself. If she disengaged, they probably wouldn't pursue too much.

(It would probably annoy them to learn it, but they were basically a secondary concern to her.)


SEE POST IN DISCUSSION THREAD, AND RESPOND ACCORDINGLY.


Scholar 1 | HP: 6/6, WP: 20/20 | AC: 13, T: 13, FF: 10 | Fort: +0, Ref: +5, Will: +3 | CMD: 13 | Init: +3, Perception: +5

Kreshell finishes his more relaxed stroll over to Zev. As he walks he carefully places his hat back on his head, making a small point to secure it. "Well..?" he says standing and looking expectantly at Zev,


That was supposed to be held. We may need to retcon it later.

This game is on FULL PAUSE, folks! We need to have ourselves a palaver!

Just a reminder. :)


My bad. Getting that gameplay post sorted out presently. (It appears that I enjoy sleeping on my days off -- which is irregular).


Petulant Observation: But I have no adhesive grenades, Hayden! How could I? Yet the droid draws nearer to Kreshell and Zev, and begins to wait while turning its unsettling amber gaze upon the organics nearby.

As Hayden moves to bluff the scuffle to a close, the cerulean-skinned Twi'lek speaks again, . . .

Mando Commando Will Save: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (15) + 1 = 16

. . . and the Mandalorian breaks off his fistfight to turn toward Vadi's refuge. On to you now, schutta.

Rhea seizes the distraction to withdraw from her sparring match (About time! :D) and orient on Theta-Zero. She offers no acknowledgement to Hayden, perhaps losing his voice in the rush of her own thoughts, and begins weaving through the tables toward the kitchen-door-crowd.

post break


Working a circuitous route through the room to avoid the scuffle and the kidnapping, the Zabrak hustles close to Zev and Zargro. The look in his eye is one of guarded curiosity. Captain, since my first interview has been . . . cancelled, he intones, gesturing at the hauled carcass of Jebber Lofkte, . . . I wonder if you're looking for any more crew? I can navigate, guide, and watch your back -- I have experience in . . . difficult situations. Something smug and vicious lurks behind his comment, but it seems that he's interested in marketing his skillset.

----------

Zev replies to Jir's admonition with heat. Can't wear armor I don't have, now, can I, though? Orphan of Clan Ronen, if that tells you anything.

The young man turns to his new 'partner', Kreshell, and taps him on the right shoulder. The ship's got enough room -- passengers, crew, however you wanna play it. But we need to go. Caandra's security forces aren't long from jumping on this like a gundark on a nerf calf -- we need to burn sky!!

----------

As Boran hauls Lofkte's lanky form across his shoulders, he wheels back to glance at Zev. Sosule, nayc'buir'ad: atiniie bah Manda'yaim, hibira cuyir Mando'ad. Ret'urcye mhi. The merc resumes his stride and cries out: Extract! And don't forget the message!

At this, Jir snaps an armored finger (quite the feat) and whirls toward the still-twitching Fliina. Deftly, he retrieves stim-salts from his belt and revives the woman, holding her close by his grip on her armored vest. The huge brute leans closer, and satisfaction drips from his every word. Tell your boss: Vogga sends his regards.

In the split-second between Fliina's dawning comprehension and her summary return to blissful unconsciousness (courtesy of a rapid jab to the chin), she fixes Zargro with a glare that would melt carbonite plate; the freshly-minted captain of Spice Rush suddenly feels like he's been dipped in subzero hyperdrive coolant. Nononononono! I had nothing to do with this!!

-----------

Seven Mandalorians saunter out of a too-quiet tapcaf, toting a wild-haired human, and board a fully-loaded gunship just as the first klaxons blare across Anjiliac Plaza. Inside the building, six sentients and one droid process the possibilities opened before them -- there may still be plans in place for each, but it is certain that they have been skewed, at least.

----------

Ending initiative, cutting back to discussion and conversation outside the tapcaf kitchen. Let's try to keep things moving -- everyone has at least two reasons to not want to hang around here anymore. Walk while you talk, folks! Start the discussion and I'll bot Zev to get y'all to the ship!


Sage 1 | HP: 8/8, WP: 24/24 | AC: 18{19}, T: 17{18}, FF: 15 | Fort: +3, Ref: +5{+6}, Will: +6 | M. Touch: +3{+4} (1d6 + 1d6) | CMB: +3, CMD: 17{18} | Init: +3{+4}, Perception: +8, Pilot: +7{+8}

Things were a bit wild in the cafe - but after a moment of consideration, Rhea beckoned for Hayden to join her in ditching the place before the violence continued, and she continued moving outside. They had to get out somehow, after all. "Let's not stick around to get questioned by the Hutts." she observed. Among other things, they had terrible taste in outfits.


Female Twi'Lek - Fake name: Meda Calanir - Eliciter 2 | HP 20/20 WP 28/28 | AC: 16, T: 13, FF: 13 | Fort: +4, Ref: +4, Will: +3 | BAB: +1, CMB: +0/+4, CMD: 13, M.Attack +4 [1d6], R.Attack +4 [1d6]| Init: +3 | Perception: +6 | Hypnotism 4/4 | SP: 7/7

Adrenaline rushes inside Vadi as her hand moves in a sweeping pattern. Her voice is calm and laden with power as she tries to command the Mandalorian again. "Return to your ship."

Using Powerful Charm, so now he saves at a -4 penalty.


Male Human (Corellian) Jedi Sentinel (Magus) 1 | HP 8/8; WP 24/24; FP 5/5 | AC 17; Tou 17; FF 13 | F +3; R +4; W +2 | CMB +1; CMD 15; MSB +1; MSD 15 | Init +4 Perception +4

All this force use... The objective I thought least attainable is likely the only one I'm liable to achieve. I wonder if she knows what she's doing...

Hayden, skin abuzz with excitement both from the intensity of the situation and the thrill of knowing he's exactly where he should be in the universe, casts his voice in Huttese to the azure twi'lek before dashing back to the steadily growing group of fellow travelers,

Huttese:
"It's you or him to get left behind! Like as not it'll be neither and no harm if you stay out of his grip, so come on!

"Besides, he continues to himself as he turns and makes way, "I would shudder to speak such a slimy language with one that lives it."


Scholar 1 | HP: 6/6, WP: 20/20 | AC: 13, T: 13, FF: 10 | Fort: +0, Ref: +5, Will: +3 | CMD: 13 | Init: +3, Perception: +5

Kreshell maintains his smile despite the serious complications. "Well then let's head out."

As he leaves the tapcaf, following Zev to his new ship, he hollers, "If you want to get off this rock you are welcome, but it'll cost you."

Well, I lucked out on this one. Reduce chance Kresh. Prior planning prevents pistols painting your brains on plasteel.


Zev turns toward the double doors, and bursts through them just short of a dead sprint. Time's wasting! Caandra's goons'll be coming up both service elevators in about thirty seconds! And then we might have another two minutes before her pilots are in the air! The young man sets a grueling pace as he leads the group of opportunists through a hectic kitchen, sundry dishes still being prepared despite the chaos without. The armaments carried by some of the retinue, though, finally provoke more self-preserving instincts, and cooks and cleaners alike duck behind prep tables, around corners, and even into a cargo-hold-sized freezer unit. Past a dozen stoves, through racks of dry goods, and around an industrial washer, Zev leads them through a second set of double doors into a cargo accessway that curves around the outer perimeter of the plaza superstructure, and immediately cuts right, down its length. Through ragged breaths, he grates out, One elevator . . . back th'other way . . . . Another halfway between . . . us and the . . . landing pad. . . . . No time to fight 'em, . . . or her fighters'll . . . blast the ship to . . . atoms before we can . . . even take off!! . . . . Run past 'em, if they're there! . . . . Only chance!


By the way, Vadi -- your Mando target was out of range, so reclaim that Force point!


Male Human (Corellian) Jedi Sentinel (Magus) 1 | HP 8/8; WP 24/24; FP 5/5 | AC 17; Tou 17; FF 13 | F +3; R +4; W +2 | CMB +1; CMD 15; MSB +1; MSD 15 | Init +4 Perception +4

Hayden follows with ease of practice and a rush of exhilaration, having spent a great amount of time in his youth running away the stress down below the skyscrapers of Coruscant. On the way through the kitchens, he happens to catch, in periphery, an uncorked bottle of high end brandy sitting on a side table, and attempts a snatch-and-grab in passing.

Acrobatics: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (13) + 9 = 22

As they pass through the second set of doors, he stows the bottle and draws his collapsed quarterstaff just in case.

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