"Charming."
[Dice=Perception] 1d20 + 7
Perception 1d20+9
Perception 1d20+6
[dice=perception]1d20+6
Moroka chuckles to herself, nudging Corven as she takes in the rough-and-tumble scene. "Wouldn't it be ironic if our client was another anti-imperialist?" She inquires in a low voice.
Would be nice to be free of the moral ambiguity...
She smiles at the throng of swoop bikes new and old, musing to herself. "Never got to work on a swoop bike before. Wonder if anyone needs a tune-up?"
Grimacing, Renlo quietly says to his companions, "Let's get indoors, quick. I think someone may be following us. Let's keep cool and finish this errand. It does not look like someone we want to mess with."
Jak has a predatory smile on his face as he stares down the jawas and casually but pointedly moves aside his duster to reveal the heavy blaster on his hip.
Jak has a predatory smile on his face as he stares down the jawas and casually but pointedly moves aside his duster to reveal the heavy blaster on his hip.
[Dice=Persuasion (intimidate)] 1d20 + 2 +1d6
The Jawas are impressed with your big gun. Thinking you may be wanting to compare notes, they pull aside there little cloaks and show you their big guns... their ion guns that is.
The noble will freeze for a bit in recognition and will agree with the mon-calamari.
Gotal nods his head, "We can enter investigate and perhaps leave by the back door".
"Let's do this then."
Renlo leads the group to the door, eyes peeled for an ambush.
Noting the change in the clone trooper armor towards an even more white look than before, Corven sighs and turns his eyes on the Jawas.
"Now, now. I am sure we are all friends here," he remarks with a placating geature. "Or at the very least we are not looking to kill each other, yes? So, let us all mind our own individual businesses."
Gotal moves with Renlo across the way into the Monks Facility.
So does the noble but he appears to be a bit shaken.
Gotal, Renlo & Donavaan
As you enter the monastery's massive front doors, you see several people gathered about a table off to your left. A person dressed vaguely "monkish" has noted your entrance and moves to greet you.
"May I be of service? What brings you to Dim-u?" the monk says with a beguiling smile.
Corven, Jak, Moroka
Half a minute after you arrive at the drop point, a female wearing a swoop bike helmet walks up to your sled. Without preamble, she states. "We's been waiting. Starting to thinks we was gonna have to come get it."
She pauses and looks at the three of you. "So, drive 'round back so we can unload you."
Without another word, she crisply turns and heads back the way she came. Just before entering the cantina, she turns looks at you and makes a motion to the direction you should follow.
Gotal, Renlo & Donavaan
"I had an acquaintance who told me that great wisdom could be found here and that I should stop in if ever I were this far out from the center of the galaxy as one could get.
So here I am".
As the being approaches them, Renlo allows Gotal to do the talking, while keeping an eye on the rest of them - and wary of deception.
The noble thinks to himself Wisdom? Every one wants wisdom. If everyone is so wise why is everyone so foolish?
The monk-who-is-not-a-monk nods at Gotal slowly. "We offer many services to help the lost find their way." after a pregnant pause, where the monk seems to weigh you with his eyes, he continues "We also offer services that can help those that need to stay that way." He turns and walks you through a set of doors into another room with beautiful architecture that would inspire sublime serenity if it were not for the desks and benches occupied by various beings busily working on various types of equipment. You watch with a discerning eye and notice that they are modifying the items they are working on.
The monk catches your attention again. "Your friend sent a message that you would be coming and mentioned that you need to be able to move from place to place without leaving a trail. Your friend is a good friend. You should treasure that friendship."
He leads you to a desk where a diminutive Ugnaught is busily modifying a comlink.
"Udon is one of our best. In fact, he can make copies that are so good that no one can untie the deception." He finishes with a smile and nod to Udon.
You work with Udon to flesh out new IDs for the crew of the Gambit and you get three new sets of transponder codes for the Owl's Gambit.
You pay the rather reasonable price of 2500 credits and make your way back to the ship.
=================
Meanwhile at the swoop bike bar, several rough looking beings take the Tibana gas cylinders and move it around the back of the bar.
"Thank STIGS for me next time you see her." the initial greeter nods to your group. "Who ever controls the water controls this planet. But to get control, you've got to have some muscle. See ya 'round."
Without waiting for any response from the group, the biker turns and heads back into the bar.
Corven notices that a cloaked figure seems to be a little too focused on the group and the transaction... he mentions this to his compatriots. "We have company." he states with a slight jut of his jaw towards the interloper.
The three clamber back aboard the sled and pull away from the bar.
Behind them, a sudden commotion erupts as white armored soldiers move in and capture the nascent rebels. Jak bows his head and turns a corner. The modified CIS emblems marked these people as former brothers.
An earth shattering boom and shock wave wipe away his reverie. A billowing, roiling cloud of heat and smoke wash over the crew of the hoversled. The explosion was clearly from the bar... and it would seem that the former CIS were not going to go quietly. Emergency klaxons soon fill the air and people screaming and running fill the streets.
By the time Jak pulls the sled into the docking bay, imperial ships are swarming the air lanes. Reports are coming in that anarchists killed numerous Stormtroopers and destroyed several blocks of Mos Eisley.
Jak eases the sled back into its berth on the Gambit. Moroka signals that she has successfully removed the tracking device from the Owls aft nacelle and left it attached to the hangar wall.
Another story comes across the news that a sweep of the Pits has netted a known criminal, STIGS.
Gotal feels the prickle of a darkside force user searching through the Force for the group.
It's time to go.
Jak fires up the Owl's Gambit, Moroka completes the installation of a transponder masker and in under twenty minutes, the ship is streaking skyward.
Below, just outside the docking bay a dark cloaked figure watches the engines shrink into the distance; cursing as they do. He motions for the Stormtroopers that are with him to tear the bay apart and look for clues that might indicate where this ship is headed. He feels confident that he will meet this group again... there were too many of them shining brightly in the Force. Oh yes, they would meet again. He clenched his fist. He had not earned the moniker Emperor's Hand without reason...