"Well, glad someone made it out besides us," Jak commented while flipping through the different options for port.
"Hmm. Three points we can touchdown at. None of them seem particularly better than the other. So, I guess Anchorhead, unless one of you guys has a preference for some reason."
Jak's eyes bugged out when he looked at the climate readings.
"Whoa! The average temperature on this place is just shy of the atmosphere spontaneously combusting. You going to be okay here, Renlo? I can't imagine this being good for your skin."
"Hmmm...I definitely recommend some cover, Ren. Fish and deserts don't mix, do they?" She comments with a smirk.
"On the other hand, I doubt many people will bother reporting a bunch of Jedi to the empire out here. Might be nice to walk around without hiding our faces all day..."
Of course, now that I've SAID that out loud...
"Well, I reckon as long as you guys avoid wearing those silly brown robes, you should be okay. Oh, and don't go doing any of that weird Force mumbo jumbo, neither. No need to be calling attention to ourselves. "
The noble will look at Jak after his comment and reply, We are real good at lying here. he says.
"Truncort IV" eases into a glide path which will put the craft on track to land at the Anchorhead spaceport.
[/b]"Truncort IV, this is Anchorhead control, you have permission to set down at bay 13. The coordinates are coming through now."[/b]
"Truncort IV?" Jak thinks quizzically what the... AH, the fake ID.
The coordinates for your landing pad come through. You have roughly 10 minutes to touch down.
"Bringing her in, everyone. Strap in."
Jak flipped a switch and spoke.
"Rodger rodger, Control. Entering approach vector now."
Moroka inspects her gear, adjusting her belt and saber holster, and throwing her all-temp cloak on her back. She gazes at the walls of the ship, shaking her head in disappointment at the false moniker.
Truncort IV...such a lifeless name for a fine ship. We'll have to do better than that next time...
She then finds a secure seat and watches the approach. "This is going to be some unpleasant weather..."
Anchorhead looks like a smudge on the dessert as you cross the horizon.
Within a minute the city grows and a squat sprawl of formerly white domed living quarters and adobe markets become distinct. Periodic spires jab the sky while speeders old and new crisscross the city. Outside the city, hover carts pulled by large green lizard-like beasts trudge along dirt roads from the dessert to the edge of town.
Roughly a minute and a half after entering the atmosphere, "Truncort IV" sets down at the Anchorhead spaceport.
Jak lowers the ramp. A male Twi'lek with pointed teeth waits impatiently at the bottom of the ramp.
"Welcome to Anchorhead... We require three days docking fee in advance. That will be 150 credits... Sign here." he states as he hands a datapad towards the first person down the ramp.
"Will you require services?"
"We're only planning on staying for a day or two. Will we be reimbursed the unused docking fee upon leaving?"
"Well, at least we still have more money than we started with," Corven mutters with a shrug as he moves to stand closer to Jak so the other man can hear him. "A bit of a consolation that."
Making sure his all-temperature cloak is fastened securely in place, he sighs softly. "I do not like heat all that much..."
Moroka steps out behind the group, examining the scene and the twi'lek for a moment before walking past, handing him a credit chip with a smile. "150 is fine." She waves back to the crew. "Someone mind signing that?" Won't do to have a Jedi name on the record now, I suppose...
A few steps forward, and she stops, looking over her shoulder at the Twi'lek. "Actually, we might be interested in making some credits of our own. Know anyone in need of some legwork?"
The Twi'lek dock master takes the chip from Moroka and cocks and eye, waiting for someone to sign the pad.
" If you are looking for some work, you can make your way to Stigs. She's usually looking for help." he says with a curt head bob that would indicate that Stigs is in the half of the city over his right shoulder.
"Or if you're looking longer term, you might try Jabba. You can catch his major domo, Bib at the races from time to time.
Gotal turns to Renlo, "I believe I know our next destination. Can you assist me with the navicomputer to pinpoint its location? It is in the mid-rim".
As they approach, Renlo says to Moroka's comment, "I've been here a couple times before and made it out. Long as I don't spend too much time in the sun, I'll be fine. There are enough of us that I may be able to stay on the ship, anyway. I wouldn't say no to someone making some modifications to allow for a bit more humidity in my bunk afterwards, though."
Before Jak leaves the ship, Renlo stops him and says, "Listen, I've been on ships that have done some work for a Hutt or two. If you can, avoid accepting any jobs from Jabba, regardless of how tempting the offer. Hutts aren't known for their compassion when things go wrong. I left my last ship when things went bad with one." Looking at Jak meaningfully, he says, "Just keep your wits about you. All of you."
Turning to Gotal, he says, "Sure. Is this for that meeting with your contact?"
Sitting down at the computer, Renlo sits down at the console and fires up the navicomputer, calling up the Mid-Rim.
Gotal nods to Renlo, "Correct".
"Okay, let's get started. What are we looking at for coordinates?"
Moroka nods in agreement. "Even I know the Hutts should never be one's first choice for work."
She looks back to the dockmaster, tossing him another 20 credit chip. "Let us know if you hear of any Imperial presence heading this way, would you?" Never hurts to have some extra eyes and ears about...
She then motions to Jak and Corven. "Come on. The others can catch us on comms later; let's go meet and greet with the locals, shall we?"
The noble will make a snide comment about who named these people leaders anyway.
Gotal has a look of concern when Moroka mentions working for Jabba.
"I believe my contact would be a safer bet to request work from. At least he is trustworthy".
"Okay, let's get started. What are we looking at for coordinates?"
Gotal opens his mouth then frowns, "Well, I located this planet through the Force thus I cannot be exactly sure where it is.
Perhaps we need to see a Galactic Map to start the process, focusing on the mid-rim. Perhaps we should pay a visit to a knowledge repository - there may well be a local Hyperspace Warden station even out here.
They would have the most updated galactic maps. Then as I view the map I could "feel" where the Force guided me and then translate it to you in the form of coordinates.
I know it is not exact science but I think it may be all I have. I would like to arrive at this rendezvous point very soon as I believe the longer we wait to uncover the evils of this new regime, the harder it will be to dislodge them". .
With a sigh at Gotal's mention of using the Force to find it , Renlo says, "Our nab data is less than a week old. We likely won't find newer here on Tatooine, especially not in Anchorhead. Maybe Mos Eisley, but I wouldn't want to chance such a wretched hive of scum and villainy. Let's try with what we have on the ship."
Hitting a few switches, Renlo calls up a holographic star map, and zooms the focus in on the Mid Rim.
"We can try. If we are unsuccessful perhaps we can journey somewhere else mid-rim that will have such a map though if this group is present I should be able to sense them".
Gotal will try to sense whether these Force users are here on Tatooine whether it be Anchorhead or Mos Eisley.
Use the Force
Moroka nods in agreement. "Even I know the Hutts should never be one's first choice for work."
She looks back to the dockmaster, tossing him another 20 credit chip. "Let us know if you hear of any Imperial presence heading this way, would you?"
She then motions to Jak and Corven. "Come on. The others can catch us on comms later; let's go meet and greet with the locals, shall we?"
"I'd just as soon stay out of the Hutts way, as well. Ren wasn't thrilled about it neither."
Jak signed the pad using his real name. Didn't seem like there was much of a point in using an alias just then.
"So where could we find this Stigs?" he asked the dockworker.
Moroka nods in agreement. "Even I know the Hutts should never be one's first choice for work."
She looks back to the dockmaster, tossing him another 20 credit chip. "Let us know if you hear of any Imperial presence heading this way, would you?"
She then motions to Jak and Corven. "Come on. The others can catch us on comms later; let's go meet and greet with the locals, shall we?"
"I'd just as soon stay out of the Hutts way, as well. Ren wasn't thrilled about it neither."
Jak signed the pad using his real name. Didn't seem like there was much of a point in using an alias just then.
"So where could we find this Stigs?" he asked the dockworker.
"Stigs has set up shop near the Pits. You can't miss it. Smells like Bantha fodder.
With a sigh at Gotal's mention of using the Force to find it , Renlo says, "Our nab data is less than a week old. We likely won't find newer here on Tatooine, especially not in Anchorhead. Maybe Mos Eisley, but I wouldn't want to chance such a wretched hive of scum and villainy. Let's try with what we have on the ship."
Hitting a few switches, Renlo calls up a holographic star map, and zooms the focus in on the Mid Rim.
"Oh, the... Pits," Corven quips with a soft chuckle. "Now that is such an inviting name for a place. One can almost smell the... fodder."
Jak tipped his hat and thanked the dock worker, before walking away with the others.
"Alright, everyone, let's make a living."
He flipped out his comm and called the ship.
"Owl, this is Jak. We're headin' to a place called the Pit to meet up with someone named Stiggs to try to set up a job. Well, probably an associate of hers more likely. Either way, if we don't check in after a couple of hours, assume our luck has remained consistent and do your thing."
Try as he might, the small screen of the map made it far too difficult to locate the right sector. With a sigh, he said, "This is looking like finding a needle in a haystack. We'll have to use a more powerful, larger terminal. Shall we try to find one ?"
Gotal nods in assent, "Yes, agreed".
Gotal nods in assent, "Yes, agreed".
"I think I may have found them, we will need a speeder as they are not within the space port.
Perhaps Anchorhead is more dangerous then we suspected.
Let's get going while we have daylight to explore.
If they are not the ones we are looking for, we can always try again tomorrow within the city limits".
Shutting down the console, Renlo gets up, stretches, and says, "I'll let Jak know where we're headed. There should be somewhere we can rent a speeder around here." looking out the cockpit window, he adds, "Preferably with a roof."
Taking out his comlink, Renlo enters Jak's code and says, "Hey, Gotal and I are going to try and find a couple people who may have better navigational data than we do so we can find the coordinates of that planet he's looking for. We have to go just outside of Anchorhead. We'll keep you updated."
As they prepare to leave the ship, Renlo hands Gotal his stun baton and says, "Here. This way, you have something a little less obvious if we get into trouble."
"Hey, Gotal and I are going to try and find a couple people who may have better navigational data than we do so we can find the coordinates of that planet he's looking for. We have to go just outside of Anchorhead. We'll keep you updated."
"Rodger, rodger. Check in every couple of hours. Jak out."
Gotal accepts the Baton and shrugs, "I prefer not to fight at all but it is wise to have this. I shall also bring along my lightsaber as I do not want to leave it behind and regret it. Give me a moment to change my clothes, I have something besides the robe to wear it is just infrequent that I wear such garments".
Once Gotal is in the dress of a common Alderanean he approaches Renlo, "Shall we?"
The noble wonders where he will go. He doesnt trust Jak anymore and has been keeping his distance from the group a bit.
"Let's."
Descending the ramp, Remlo closed and locked up before turning to seek someone who could direct them to a speeder rental service.
As Moroka, Jak and Corven step into sweltering heat of Tatooine's twin suns, they scan the area just outside the docking bay looking for transportation. Three things are immediately clear. Where Sy Myrth was almost cosmopolitan, Anchorhead looks like a shanty town by comparison. The atmosphere is unbelievably dry; it feels like it is sucking the moisture out of your skin. In fact, not far away, there is a street vendor selling WATER by the cup. Third, there is a distinct lack of your typical taxi services. It seems at first glance, that where other planets take the use of a speeder for granted, that is not the case on this desert planet. There are beasts of burden carrying goods and people and there are rickshaw operators running around the streets.
In fact, as you wave for a taxi, a rickshaw operator pulls up. The rickshaw is being pulled around by four diminutive beings in full length brown robes. A fifth steps from the lead position and looks up at the three of you with glowing yellow optical receptors.
"Bedoo, doboo, qualakat?" it says as it motions for you three to hop aboard.
Renlo and Gotal move away from the Owl's Gambit attempting to find a mode of transportation to the position Gotal sensed through the Force.
There seems to be a distinct lack of public transportation. You notice that your colleagues flag down a brown robed, munchkin drawn rickshaw.
looking around you notice that there are a number of beasts acting as transport. Perhaps you could flag one of those down or perhaps you would rather walk... the distance Gotal sensed was not so far away.
Donavaan stands apart from his travelling companions, wrapped up in his own thoughts... voices and ghosts continue to haunt his nights. He is starting to wonder if one of his shipmates are playing around with him or perhaps THEY are part of the trouble in the first place... especially JAK. You KNOW he's a liar... and if he could lie about something as like your senseless gunning down of a law enforcement official, what else would he willingly hide? You are not sure IF you can continue to travel with these people... You need some time to think it over. As you are mulling the best option to get drunk, a small child moves from near the Gambit towards you. You can plainly see through the child - so your logic tells you it is not a real being but one of the ghosts come back to haunt you further. The pain and anguish start to well up in your mind as it so often does when these kids start to show up... but before you can start a good ol' fashioned rant, the specter looks pleadingly at you, points off into the desert and motions for you to follow. It's mouth moves as if it is trying to say something, but nothing comes out.
Gotal looks to Renlo, "A beast would be preferable. I do not think we should be in the desert on foot on an unknown world".
Wrapped in his all-temperature cloak, Renlo quietly grumbles about the lack of easy speeder transport. Looking at Gotal, he says, "An animal would be quicker, which means less time in this air for me. Let's see what we can find."
Stepping out, he waves down a passing beast and asks the rider, "Pardon me, but would you happen to be available for hire for transport, or tell us where we can rent a similar beast to yours?"
Corven looks from the small robed creatures to his two companions and then back at the five beings. He shrugs. "The Pits? Stigs?" The words are as much questions as they are destinations and, once spoken, the man makes a move to get on the rickshaw.
He has his board with him.