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

Game Master Syrus Terrigan

Ossifson chuckles a bit at Vadi's display, but then sobers swiftly. He was complaining about having to go on another run in the freight sub -- the "brick with propellers". Because I do have some slightly unfortunate news: the shipment you're scheduled to retrieve has been rotated back to storage, off-site. Another shipment was bumped to an earlier pickup, necessitating the cargo shift. And due to the nature of your intended cargo, we had to move it to one of our deeper storage sites. And that's where the sub figures in -- it's about a six-hour run to retrieve, load, and ferry back here to the loading zone. Stevral pauses here, and takes a steeling breath before continuing. Honestly, after we received the communique from Nar Shaddaa, I expected to not see that specific shipment code come across my screen . . . . It sounded as though there might have been some . . . intense conflict surrounding the beginning of your journey. In the past, similar events have resulted in lost shipments -- hurt feelings do so interfere with business operations, do they not?

Stevral's smile becomes a bit rigid and nervous. He's obviously awaiting a reaction from the people gathered before him.

Bluff: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (19) + 7 = 26

Kreshell's face changes quickly from the smile to an extremely irate face. He quickly grabs flips a switch and yells into it, "Frack it Grev! Just because you like Manaan..! I swear I'll....!!" He begins silently fuming as his face is more red than it once was, while flipping the comm unit off.

"Hiccups are known to happen from time to time in this industry." Rhea answered Ossifson, smiling pleasantly at him. "What's most important is that the shipment is, in fact, being delivered - which means no significant loss in profit." People like this tended to focus on the money when worried - if you could convince them they were still going to profit and things would be fine for them, they generally stopped worrying.

Stevral takes Kreshell's outburst in stride, and seems mollified by Rhea's calmer reaction. He straightens a bit -- difficult, considering his already rigorous presentation --, and then hands the group a decision point.

So, since it appears you have a rather longer wait ahead of you than anticipated, I'd like to make a few suggestions for your activities over the next several hours. First, and most obvious, you could seek entertainment in one of the resorts nearby -- we'll assign a driver with a passenger speeder to you, free of charge. Second, if you'd rather not see the sights, we have a staff lounge in the main building on the second floor -- you're free to make use of its dining and gaming options, but the rest of the facility is off-limits. Third, and last -- there is room enough on the freight sub for four of you to go along on the retrieval; I can easily handle all the necessary documentation while approving his overtime and such. At this, he finally notices the dented and scored hull plating on the ship before him. Or, you could stay here and see to your vessel. . . . . An interesting color scheme you have, there. A grin sweeps over his face as he reckons the reasons for the camouflage paint job, but it passes as swiftly as it appears.

I will leave you to the choice then, gentlebeings. Do know, though, that if you elect to go on the sub ride, that you have only . . . , he check his chrono, eleven minutes to confirm that. Afterward, he'll already be on his way. The receptionist's desk can be clearly seen from the end of the hallway. She can direct you to my office should you need to see me. Stevral dips his head and turns on his heel, quickly going back the way he came.

"I'm gonna kill him Meda!..." Kresh whisper/shouts to Vadi as Stevral walks away, obviously still fuming.

Once Stavral is clearly gone Kresh begins whispering, "This isn't good, but it can't be helped. If either of you two are any good at repairs or helping with them, now's the time to do it. Otherwise, we need to still appear legit and the ship needs to be ready to lift off at a moments notice. If we have to split up, leaving some here on the planet so be it. Should that come to pass, we'll meet in Belasco."

"Keep your cool until we are through, this may still be just a coincidence."

"Don't believe that your inefficiency in this matter will go unnoticed." says Vadi coolly. "We did not come to Manaan for entertainment, drinks or otherwise" though I would really like to relax and see another planet, damn it! "we came for business. Myself, I shall be with the ship. "

"You read my mind. I don't know which end of a hydrospanner to use, but I don't trust the local areas either. I'd rather run with you."

Rhea watched Stevral, and her mouth twitched in amusement when he was finally out of sight. Once things seemed like they were finally calming down, she made her way back onto the ship and took out a communicator. The first thing she really wanted to do - now that she had the time - was get in touch with the assets on this planet and see if they had anything to offer her. It was always a bit hit-or-miss on whether there'd be something valuable, but checking in was one of her biggest jobs.

After a moment of contemplative silence, in which le' leerily considers anything to be less tedious than waiting for the paint on the spice rush to dry.

"I shall go along with the transport, would do well to assure we properly see to the safe transit of our mark. "

Allowing his words to hang for all present, the zabrak turns on his heels intended toward the direction the submarine is docked. He issues a curt bark "the sooner we leave, the better!"

For but a moment, Hayden BeShawn's demeanor falters, and then resumes its general calm. He turns back into the ship and shortly reemerges with ThetaZero close behind. Together, they follow after Le Za-Deen, also intent upon escorting the goods back to Spice Rush.

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Zev eventually emerges from the boarding ramp, laden with kits and hardware. He clambers atop the vessel and begins effecting the minor repairs necessary. It isn't long after that he is approached by the blonde mechanic, and soon the two are engaged in animated conversation while the Mandalorian orphan does his work.

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Rhea's comm ping goes unanswered for nearly an hour, but when the response does arrive, it is emphatic. She is provided an address and a time, and instructed to arrive alone. The command code attached at the terminus of the message is of high enough priority that the Hapan knows she must go. And, in all likelihood, she will be going to receive a bit of a dressing-down from the planet section chief.

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Kresh and Vadi settle in for their wait aboard Spice Rush, little but pazaak and the ship's galley to serve the passage of time.

Yes, these events are scattered across our timeline, and more fleshing-out is needed. I will be posting again soon to fill in the blanks.

So, the word is that I'll be botting Hayden for the foreseeable future. Hopefully his tech issues meet a speedy resolution and he can rejoin us. In any event, I have a few things upon which to elaborate.

The trio of Zabrak, Corellian, and droid are waved into Stevral's office by the receptionist. The lanky sub pilot is sprawled across a comfortable-looking nerf-hide chair, his elbows and legs prominently overhanging its mass. The CEO glances up and acknowledges his guests, a faint smile on his face.

Looking back to the surly submariner, Stevral fairly coos, There you go, Taell. Overtime and hazard pay approved for this run. Ossifson scans his thumbprint onto the display integrated into his desk surface, and the tall man leans over to impress his own thumbprint on the electronic document. So I take it, . . . uh, . . . gentlemen, that you three will be dispatched to assist with the retrieval? The murmurs of assent send the executive into a brief flurry of activity, and within moments Le and Hayden have official approval to travel on the company submarine. ThetaZero, acknowledging young BeShawn as his master, is permitted to attend, as well, being merely regarded as property.

Within minutes, Taell leads his charges to a row of lift doors, and calls a car. He beckons the other three aboard, and punches the button for the lowest level of the complex.

So! First time on Manaan, fellas? Good, good. At least you'll get some sightseeing done -- maybe even get to see a firaxan shark on the way! And free of charge, no less! I'll be glad of the company, for sure. The boat computer isn't much for talking, I'm afraid.

The lift doors open onto a cavernous chamber, and the faint tang of salt in the air mingles with that of seaweed and fish. The dock is occupied by six watercraft -- four of them thrice the size of Spice Rush. The other two are much smaller, but could challenge the freighter in terms of mass and volume. Several crewfolk mill about the area, some maneuvering refueling lines, others inspecting vessel hulls, but the majority laboring with heavy loadlifters, ferrying large tanks filled with translucent blue kolto to various freight elevators. Taell's extra hands garner some double-takes, but none of the workers breaks his or her rhythm. The rail-thin pilot leads Za-Deen, BeShawn, and ThetaZero to one of the smaller subs, leading the way up a ladder to an access hatch.

The bobbing motion of the craft at its mooring proves somewhat unsettling for Le Za-Deen -- travel upon a body of water, or beneath it, was a thing unknown on his home planet. The lakes and streams that were scattered about its rocky surface were typically small enough, or shallow enough, to be either circumnavigated or forded on foot. The newness of this experience was met with a quiet eagerness, the Zabrak looking forward to something fresh, and different.

Hayden settles into the water-buoyed craft with ease, memories of trips on pleasurecraft back on Corellia gliding through his mind. It had been some years since he was last on a sub, and his interest was mildly piqued, but he was pleased to be away from the freighter for a time.

ThetaZero secures the hatch with silent efficiency as Taell fires up the engines and thrusters while simultaneously going through his pre-dive checks. Okay, guys. Gonna be near to three hours to get to deep storage, and maybe . . . thirty minutes' work to load up the goods. Then, three hours back, and we'll have you on your way! Once all the diagnostics read in the green, Taell eases the craft farther into the water, and then begins the long dive to their goal.

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If any of you have anything to add, whether questions, interactions, or what-have-you, seize the opportunity! I'm especially interested in Rhea's reaction to the communique; regardless, we're about to set a few series of things in motion. Read y'all soon!

Rhea's mouth just twitched in amusement as she got her instructions. Besides, if you panicked, people tended to assume you'd done something wrong. She hadn't. She'd availed herself of an interesting opportunity, just like she'd been taught to do - and she was a traveler to begin with, not terribly concerned with staying in one place once business was done. The galaxy was big, its technologies diverse, and she wanted to get value from as much of it as possible. Some time before her appointment, she noted to everyone still around that she'd be out for a bit, but was coming back - and with that, she headed off to the rendezvous.

Rednal -- do you have any further specifics for Rhea's venture? Does she intend to make use of Ossifson's offer of transportation, or just use the pedwalks?

Avacyn restored -- have you got any sub ride interactions? Or do you just want to get straight to the depot?

Rhea would prefer to use her own method of transportation. XD It's supposed to be a more secure meeting, after all, and she doesn't like giving out information on things like that.

So I gathered, but didn't want to choose for you. And that impacts my plan a bit. Got to delay that post, folks, but it'll be up within 12 hours.

*sigh*

Or just someday . . . .

Not long after Rhea departs on her errand, Kreshell and Vadi hear the thunder of clattering boots and gales of laughter reverberate through the ship. Upon sharing a confused look, the two glance down the passenger hallway toward the boarding ramp. A conspicuous scattering of clothing contrasts with the deck plating -- a grimy mechanic's jumpsuit, a pair of shirts, and some undergarments. A few dull thuds echo out from the starboard side of the bridge, and the doors to Zev's cabin engage their locks.

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As Rhea steadily makes her way toward the rendezvous, she notices the transition from industrial zone to 'tourist trap' taking hold in the surroundings. A bevy of various races is represented here in the resort district -- even some species Rhea has never seen before, firsthand. Unlike other similar enterprises, this part of the city does not appear to be driven by a 'rush for more'; on the contrary, there is a great sense of cultivated comfort -- the casino masters want their patrons to savor the transition of fortunes.

As she strolls past the bright lights and vivid displays, she notes that her destination lies beyond the mainstream portions of the entertainment district. There is a subtle change in the pulse of the city . . . the lights are more dim, and farther apart; fewer purveyors solicit with eye contact and bright smiles; persons moving to and fro keep their heads down, and offer no token gestures.

Eventually, Rhea's comlink pings her arrival at the destination point, and the operative makes an incredulous double-check of the data. Even so, she finds that everything checks out -- even a bordello can serve as a good cover for an intelligence station.

Suppressing a grimace, Rhea steps up to one of the doormen and issues her codephrase: Please inform the lady of the house that her cousin has arrived. He makes no direct reply, but enters a few commands on an integrated datacom on his left bracer. Within moments, he opens the doorway to Lady Valmay's Delights and instructs Rhea to enter the second door on the left of the lengthy hallway before her.

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The sub trip to the deep storage depot turns out to be even less eventful than expected -- no firaxan sharks, no contrary currents, no other vehicles or sentients in sight. Nevertheless, their pilot takes on the role of tour guide almost reflexively -- an unceasing cascade of useless trivia, dreamy speculations, and gripes about long duty posts streams from Taell's mouth as the sub travels through Manaan's great sea. ThetaZero eventually leans toward Hayden in the adjacent seat, clearly ready to ask for permission to gag, or otherwise silence, the man, but the young Jedi forestalls him with a silent, imperious imposition of his hand before the droid's yellow-orange photoreceptors. BeShawn merely shakes his head in the negative, resigned to enduring the torrent in bemused longsuffering.

Just as Taell begins to regale his captive audience with an anecdote from his time as a short-order cook in a dive on Abregado-rae, he blurts: Oh! Here we are!! . . . . I am so glad you guys came along -- the trip just flew right by! He is all smiles as he depresses a button on his console, and then turns the submarine upward into a stately ascent.

The twilight purple of the water swirling about the ship is suddenly brightened by a bank of floodlights on the vessel's bow, and looming out of the gloom are a pair of massive chains stretched vertically from below to some point above. Taell guides the craft between the two towers of metal and decelerates to a near-stop. As the hull around them pops lightly as pressure decreases, a new source of light becomes visible directly overhead. Blue-white artificial light beckons them to rise into the bay of a superfreighter-sized orb of indeterminate composition, so covered over with barnacles, coral, and mollusks that its shape is suggested rather than observed.

They emerge into a spacious loading bay, and their driver quickly shuts down the vessel and makes ready to open the hatch. Well, let's get this done, shall we? . . . . Uh . . . do any of you know how to use a heavy repulsorjack? 'Cause I figured you'd be helping, and not just watching . . . . Save even more time, and all. Before anyone can respond, he hits another switch at the doorway, and the whole vessel shudders as its bat-wing hull hatches begin to swing open.

Taell clambers out with the others in tow, and he explains why their shipment had to be relocated. Their lot is not standard export-quality kolto -- rather, it is a rarer type of kolto that is harvested from the ocean in much smaller quantities. It must be kept at cooler temperatures during shipment, and rather than expend the batteries on the storage tanks, Ossifson chose to move them here until they were to be retrieved. Indeed, the chamber is much cooler than the surface air, almost to the point of causing discomfort. Their pilot waves a hand toward one wall, and Hayden and Za-Deen are briefly agog -- one hundred 1000-liter tanks of purple-tinged blue kolto are amassed before them, covered with light condensation.

A hundred thousand liters of kolto. 100,000!!!

Taell sets to work, showing his charges how to move the tanks properly and secure them in the freight sub's hold. The work is steady but slow, even with the additional hands.

Le and Hayden -- Perception checks are in order!!

Seeming quite relaxed, Rhea strolled through the doorway. It took a certain kind of determination to really fix the lines in any sort of larger settlement. The kind of determination usually accompanied by guards carrying blasters and thick walls. In many of the places she'd been, the rulers didn't care too much what happened as long as it happened where they didn't have to care about it. The split was their loss, though - it was often in the underbellies where you found true insight and creativity, things kludged together to work. Those, in turn, could often be developed into genuinely better technology.

"Hello, cousin." Rhea said, peppy and cheerful as she made her way into the designated room. "Despite what some of my aunts might think, I'm still not a disappointment to our family."

Kreshell turns to Vadi, "I don't suppose you could convince one of them inside to open that door to the cabin?" As he says this he activates the boarding ramp to close and lock.

Behind an ornate homogoni desk, a very petite woman sits fully reclined in a memory-foam chair covered with tasteful synthsilk upholstery. Cradling a wineglass in one manicured hand, a wry half-smile graces the dark-eyed woman's immaculate visage. Swathed in sheer couture that both conceals and accentuates her every curve, she rises gracefully and begins to walk around the desk toward Rhea.

Tut, tut, darling! Whoever said anything about 'disappointment'?! . . . . But forgive my brashness -- introductions are in order, of course. In a courtly fashion, the comely madam's hand reaches toward Rhea in polite greeting. Your name, my dear?

Automatically, Rhea accepts the handshake while identifying herself. The light grip suddenly becomes vise-like as the brothel's operator pulls herself fully into Rhea's "bubble" and hisses: And I, Miss Varn, am Lady Inita Valmay, by pure happenstance your superior in this little dance of ours. Quick as a flash, the rage dissipates from her voice. It is a delight to make your acquaintance, Rhea. It is so wonderful to meet the scion of a competing House, is it not?

With those few moments' exchange, Rhea realizes some part of what is transpiring here. House Varn and House Valmay are very nearly on equal footing in the political tangle of Hapan culture. Though she cannot recall any 'bad blood' between the two families, it seems Valmay has a different perspective altogether. And given the protocols of reporting in to a planetary station chief, the field operative understands that she has a duty to provide a detailed debriefing, but yielding up too much information might give her competitor too much leverage. A delicate dance, indeed . . . . Moreso because the command code Rhea received could only have originated from someone farther up the chain of command . . . . Someone with great influence wanted this particular meeting to occur, even though it was unnecesaary.

Lady Inita glides over to a sidebar and replenishes her drink. Glancing back over her shoulder, she asks, Would you care for a drink before we sit down for your fabulous tale? Only a trained eye would be able to see through the false smile that delivers the question.

Hayden's Perception 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (4) + 4 = 8

Diplomacy: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (13) + 4 = 17

"Alas, unless it's quite mild, I'm afraid I'll have to pass." Rhea answered courteously. House Varn had influence, but mostly because it had money. A single one of the gems they mined was worth a fortune in its own right, and they'd worked to be scrupulously neutral in their political leanings aside from serving the current Queen Mother. That meant they didn't have a lot of allies... but they could also usually get by without too many enemies, especially because Gallinore didn't have that many families to begin with. That made this woman's reaction all the more curious. A personal grudge? A front to test her? It could be any number of things, really - and the sage's correct response was to remain herself. "It really was quite a fascinating chain of events." With that, she gave a brief outline of the fight that had broken out at the diner and the way she'd noticed a very rare type of droid - one that wasn't supposed to be around - in the vicinity. "So, naturally, I decided to follow along. As I'm sure you already know, my mission has always had a very broad scope, and a change of plans is always worthwhile when it brings the possibility of rare technology."

"I can check, but, uhm, doesn't Zev value his privacy? Maybe he automated the doors to lock when someone hits, and a drunken worker just stumbled on us."
Her words, however, fail to convince even her. She takes out the blaster and concentrates on the Force. "There could be unwanted guests. I suggest we carefully check the cabin."

Fresh adopts his infamous smile as he bows slightly with a hand out, "Afer you ms. 'I can sense people through doors'."

perception: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (17) + 7 = 24

Le' za-deen emerges from the vessel with a jovial step. He was no stranger to manual labor, although not his preferred calling, if there was work to be done he would lend a hand (or two) to hasten the process.

" aye, the droid can pilot the repolsorlift. Unless such a task is beneath you?" he asks sideways to theta zero

Edit:word

Argh! Just now noticed I misspelled 'unnecessary' a couple days ago. *facepalm* Anyhow -- quick update: I am going to be on the road today and part of tomorrow, so our next step in our narrative will come tomorrow afternoon. Also: Vadi -- am I to take your 'concentrates on the Force' action as a use of the Mind sphere ability?

Lady Valmay listens carefully to Rhea's story, and lets her finish before she begins to dig deeper into the details.

I'm going to post this as a series of questions, and, if you please, Rednal, answer them in succession (noting any avoided questions as clearly as you can, please -- if there are any.).

1) So. This battle . . . . The fight was between the local Exchange enforcers and a group of . . . Mandalorians? What was the result of the attack?

2) What model is this "rare droid" you're tailing, hmm?

3) Is the droid accompanying someone? Or is it one of those ghastly 'liberated' droids?

4) What's your current cover identity, and what's your expected itinerary? I've been pressed to provide all the information I can regarding your anticipated movements for the foreseeable future. I can only guess that one of our superiors may need to be able to contact you swiftly -- a special assignment may be coming your way soon . . . .

That's it for the moment. Will be getting the storage depot post prepped shortly.

The work at the deep storage depot is proceeding well, and just as Le Za-Deen is emerging from the sub's port hold, an irregularity in the noise of the water lapping at the dock draws his attention -- a figure is emerging from the depths, just twenty feet away!

The creature has a complexion that reminds the Zabrak of the wind-gouged rocks of his home -- a ruddy brown color that is completely uniform. A dome-shaped head with deep-set, beady eyes is set above mouthparts that resemble the tentacles of some of the sea creatures passed on the trip. The being's hands have several individual digits that more resemble articulated flippers than Le's own humanoid hands. No matter the physiology, though -- the armor and blaster rifle the strange sentient carries hold all the meaning the Zabrak exile needs: an attack!

Quarren Thug 1 Perception: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (5) + 5 = 10

Action to you, Avacynrestored -- you get a free action and/or a standard action during this surprise round.

Taell Perception: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (13) + 6 = 19
ThetaZero Perception: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (10) + 4 = 14

Just as Le notices the newcomer, a shout comes from the opposite side of the sub -- Taell calls out: Raiders!!

Rhea sketched out the details of the attack, noting the characteristics of where it had occurred, the weapons used, and the fact that they hadn't quite stuck around to see the end of everything. She also noted that she'd seen the droid during all this, making it a very hot lead to pursue.

"As for the machine itself, I'm fairly sure it's one of the HK-50 series - quite effective units, and worth learning things from if we can. I suspect it's had a few modifications, too, which is all the better. It's following Hayden, the Corellian, although I'm not sure what the full extent of their relationship is. It's not a wild murderer, at least, so its espionage protocols are clearly working."

"As for my cover, I'm maintaining the one I established at the start of this trip - R3FLT-" literally, Rhea #3 Flexible Long-Term, which suited her data-gathering mission quite well "-and the itinerary is currently in progress. The ship's crew hasn't fully decided on our next course of action, but I should be able to send that before we leave orbit."

One finely-tipped nail rattles out a staccato on the desktop as Valmay ponders what Rhea is reporting. An HK-50 model? Very interesting. . . . . And this droid is following a Corellian by the name of Hayden? The irregular beat stops. Hmmmmm . . . . If my guess is correct, Varn, then you may have put yourself into a singularly advantageous position. So much so that I'm obligated to apologize for my earlier viciousness. The potential gains from what I'm seeing are so great that putting aside my family loyalties in the interests of the Crown is the only reasonable course. With ethereal grace, Inita moves from her casual recline to brace Thea eye-to-eye across the homogoni desk. I have no authority to override your current mandate, Rhea, but I can amend it slightly. You would do well to cultivate a positive relationship with this "Hayden". He may be the key to accessing the droid on which you've rightly set your sights, but also --, the manicured finger ascends toward the ceiling, Also! --, a window into the very heart of the Republic's innermost powers. Stay with those two as best you can, and include every possible detail in your regular reports -- Hapes has much to garner from your work.

Valmay subsides once more, and slightly mellowed silence overtakes the room.

Rhea/Rednal -- feel free to conversate more, here. If my surmise is correct, then you just might be in this room for the next six days, our time. If, however, I'm wrong, well . . . we'll have plenty going on in short order. It may be a gross instance of plausible deus ex machina, but . . . I've got a game to run! :)

ready standard action: catch force talent ,Will save 13 to negate

As the interloper approaches, the resting scowl worn on the zabrak's face turns into a feral snarl. He positions himself in preparation of the coming battle.

We're about to set a trend, people, if it isn't one already. Readying a weapon can be performed as part of a move action if you have a +1 BAB or better, rules as written; I am going to expand that to include, at least, using a move action to make a Perception check (given the same +1 BAB requisite). If you have any remarks or objections, post 'em in Discussion; I don't think this breaks action economy or plausibility, but this will stand for at least this first encounter.

And here . . . we . . . GO!!

Quarren Thug 1 Perception: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (20) + 5 = 25
Quarren Thug 2 Perception: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (12) + 5 = 17

ThetaZero Perception: 1d20 + 4 + 2 ⇒ (16) + 4 + 2 = 22

.. . . . . . . .. I am *so* sick of this off-and-on eating of posts. [Redacted] [redacted] boards!!

Rhea curtsied slightly to Lady Valmay. "Of course. He's affable enough, so it shouldn't be too difficult to find a reason to stay around." She wasn't ignorant to the value of having insight into the leadership of a major galactic power. Besides which, people back home were experts at putting together scraps of information and making startlingly-accurate dossiers of figures of interest. Getting technological and political information at the same time was well worth doing. "Was there anything else you wanted to bring up, or shall I commence the mission right away? Some of my current vessel's crew seem... a bit likely to be found by trouble."

At Taell's outcry, ThetaZero pivots his photoreceptors back toward the starboard sub doors and immediately unlimbers his blaster rifle. Before his targeting protocols can fully engage, he looses a blast at the Quarren.

Pleased Observation: We are finally in the right location, it seems, Master Hayden!

Deadly Aimed Deadly Shot Blaster Rifle: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (20) + 4 = 24
Damage: 1d10 + 1d10 + 2 ⇒ (7) + (4) + 2 = 13
Critical Confirmation: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (14) + 4 = 18
Critical Hit Damage: 1d10 + 2 ⇒ (1) + 2 = 3

As Le and ThetaZero begin their labor of love, they notice that still more creatures are rising from the deeps behind their respective targets. Both to port and starboard, two more Quarren are pulling themselves out of the murky water, peering about the bay.

Tech Team Perception: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (15) + 5 = 20

The Quarren now bracing Le across a few mere paces' distance draws his own rifle to cover his allies, and the discharge of ThetaZero's rifle brings him clarity -- he's got a target! He aims for Za-Deen's center mass, seeking to put down any resistance as quickly as possible.

Deadly Aim Blaster Rifle: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (7) + 2 = 9
Damage: 1d10 + 2 ⇒ (6) + 2 = 8
Thug 1 Will Save: 1d20 ⇒ 13

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ThetaZero's blaster bolt chews straight through a squid-faced skull, and his target topples to the deck near one of the raider technicians, a scorched and smoking ruin.

Though Le Za-Deen was prepared for his opponent, the Zabrak's attempt to deflect blaster fire was unsuccessful; fortunately for him, his enemy's aim is poor. . . . . For the moment.

Okay, Jedi Hayden -- I know you're out there! You're up!

Tactical Description: the floor layout is essentially a large "U", dominated by the mass of the freight sub, which breaks line of sight and line of effect from either side (unless one likes to climb things). Le is on the portside, ThetaZero to starboard; Taell has taken to cowering behind the repulsorsled.

Eyes wide with the sudden change of atmosphere, the danger sets Hayden's body alive with the jarring instincts of a mammal that isn't ready to die.

"This ain't right! This is nine colors of wrong..." Sotto voiced, he adds while running, "I should have bought him some damn grenades..."

Hayden actuates his quarterstaff and fairly flies to port, menacing the blaster toting thugs with the reach of his weapon. An unbidden grin splits his face with an eerie rictus of glee.

There were weeks in the academy filled with awkward moments after Hayden started his combat training. Averted glances and uncomfortable silence were common. Hayden hadn't known until a meeting was called with Master Hrok a week later that he'd quickly beaten so many other (and even older) padawans because they were unsettled by the faces he made while fighting.

Swift: Draw the staff. Move (2): Double move to set up position in which all three of the port side thugs are in 10' reach of Hayden's staff.

A sense of irony washes over Le', he chances the moment a mirthful bellow.

"A Jedi come to aid! Oh, if the great fathers could see now!"

Suddenly, just as it was brought on, the glee dissipates replaced by rage. With merely a thought, his hand finds within its grasp the razor honed edge of the discblade. A calculated lob sends its trajectory in the path of the assailant.

attack roll: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (4) + 3 = 7
damage roll: 1d6 + 3 ⇒ (6) + 3 = 9

Immediately he takes a step toward drawing a collapsed tube, positioning himself against his foe.

swift action: call to hand, standard action: bludgeon engaged goon, 5-foot step toward, move action: draw collapsed staff

With no hesitation, ThetaZero shifts his aim to the next Quarren still clambering onto the dockside. His head tilts strangely for a brief instant, and he fires away.

Scout: 1d20 - 1 ⇒ (13) - 1 = 12
Deadly Aim Blaster Rifle: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (1) + 1 = 2 (prone target)
Damage: 1d10 + 2 ⇒ (10) + 2 = 12

The blast scars the plating near the invader's hand, rather than burning through skull and brain.

Irritated Declaration: Curse those meddling programmers!

An epiphany grips the entire mass of Quarren, all at once: discretion is the better part of valor. The pair before ThetaZero unceremoniously roll straightway back into the benthic haven, rather than face more laser blasts.

Of the two still emerging from the water near Hayden and Le, one disappears with nary a ripple nor splash. His compatriot reaches out to grasp at the rifleman's ankle and haul him back into the safety of open water.

Melee Touch: 1d20 ⇒ 2
Pull Attempt: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (10) + 2 = 12

Unable to find purchase on his trousers, the Quarren looses a burst of Huttese at the still-standing maniac, who suddenly topples backward and falls into the waiting water.

Hayden, Le -- you're up!

Lady Valmay accepts Rhea's easy exit with fine grace, and puts on a bit of a show for her employees and customers as she escorts the field operative back to the main entrance. Amidst Valmay's angry shouts about not giving money to those who waste it, Rhea interjects her own improvised protests with gusto, and soon enough finds herself back on the pedwalks of Ahto City.

"Uhm, not really." says Vadi, trying to sense who is onboard. "I can somehow feel the minds of those near me, but I'm not yet good enough with the Force to feel others. Let's see what Le's up to and hope we weren't properly boarded."
As the passenger entrance is closed, Vadi moves towards Le's cabin, leaning against the door to hear what's going on inside.

Stealth: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (7) + 6 = 13
Perception: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (16) + 5 = 21

As Vadi leans close to Le's bunk's door, she hears no sound at all from within. It seems odd for only a moment, however -- she suddenly remembers that the Zabrak went on the sub ride with Hayden and ThetaZero!!

XD

Whoops. I meant Zev's.

Derp. I . . . I have no idea why I took what you *said*, rather than what I knew you *meant*. Yay??!

Once she was out of the meeting, Rhea pulled out her com device, pinging the ship to see who was there at the moment. If everyone was out, it might be better to go and meet up with them fast - she did have a new mission to get to, and the sooner she started, the better the paperwork would look later.

Vadi shakes the proverbial cobwebs loose and reapproaches Zev's cabin door. As she presses her ear to the cool metal, the muffled reverberations of continued delighted laughter counterpointed by vigorous motion can be heard. Vadi recognizes one of the voices as distinctly Zev's; the other is a smoky female contralto, calling out encouragement of a most intimate sort.

Head still cocked toward the hatch, the Twi'lek's eyes scan the smorgasbord of castoff clothing on the bridge decking. There's little doubt in her mind that Zev has hit it off with the resident mechanic -- little rest, but quite a bit of recreation.

-----------

Where you at, Saashaa??

Rednal: due to timing constraints, we'll need to finish the hanky-panky interlude before Rhea's comm ping is received. To fit it into the overall timeline, Zev's getting jiggy just as Rhea is reaching the halfway point of her trip to Lady Valmay's bordello. And this means that the battle in the storage depot hasn't even started yet . . . .

Oh, well Kresh was going to follow Vadi. This new development however...

Kreshell chuckles quietly and his nerves relax. "We all ease our minds in different ways," he says to Vadi and strolls back to his cockpit and begins reviewing the specifics for their next leg.

Vadi sighs, holstering the blaster, and goes back to meditation exercises. The Force could be an incredible weapon, powerful and subtle. How long did I use it unconsciously?

Works for me. XD

As the murky waters lap at the dock quietly, Le and Hayden exchange a skeptical look: That was too easy. But, for several minutes, nothing at all happens. There is a brief disturbance as ThetaZero rolls the dead Quarren into the ocean after depriving the corpse of its rifle and vibroblade, and still more minutes tick by.

Taell finally gathers the nerve to end his cowering, and his customary logorrhea resumes. When none of his companions move from keeping a watch on the dockside, he quiets, and meekly resumes moving the tanks of kolto.

Before long, the subdued pilot interjects: Ummm . . . fellas? That was the last one. Are we ready to get moving? Putting word into action, he eases into the ship and closes the bay doors, beginning the startup sequence.

Twenty-fours hours before I push this again so we can reweave the narrative threads. *drums fingers* *crickets*

I'm still here. No worries, just waiting for the reweaving.