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Okay, that does it. The nuar stamps his feet as he speaks. He draws his doshko and winds it up dramatically before slamming it down on the drow.
and in his rush completely misses, slamming it into the ground.
"Oh. A solarian. I should have deduced as much." Akh looks down at where the blade cut into him, rather unhappy with what he sees. He offers a half-hearted "You're not going to let us go, are you?" before swinging in with his vibrating claw.
"Ah hells. I guess if we're gonna get fired, might as well all of us gettin' tha can together."
Strek draws his heavy weapon and takes aim at the Solarion.
"Bah! They never listen to reason, do they?" mutters Guess?. "Horizon, guess we'll have to recapture your target for you, ya fool!"
Not wanting to let the one who started this mess to get away, Guess? backs up next to the cross-dressing gnome/drow to block her/his path to the back door and brandishing his dogslicer, Guess? smacks the gnome non-lethally!
Guess? says matter-of-factly to the gnome/drow, "Not so fast! We don't appreciate being used as a distraction! So get down on the ground and don't move or I'll take the kiddy gloves off and gut ya for real!"
Then Guess? follows that statement in a lower but admiring tone, "Tho I gotta say, your skills are amazing and your misdirection was well-executed! Please don't make me kill you... It'd be such a waste."
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The bounty hunter shows his strengths as he weaves in and out to avoid Jaraduk and Akh's blows while furrowing his brow to shrug off Lars' spell. From across the bar, Strek sends a fiery bolt over the heads of startled customers (who haven't fled yet, odd) and into Horizon's back! The drow snarls in pain but stays focused on Akh. "I never let a bounty go." He spins in a circle, feinting with his first strike then stabbing directly into Akh's torso! The dark blade sinks deep into the android's chest. "Sleep well." The drow's blade pulls back and Akh falls to the floor!
On the other side of the room, the drow woman skirts around Guess? and get stabbed for her efforts. As the goblin's ancestral weapon cuts the drow he sees through the illusion to the grinning gnome beneath! The gnome winks, saying "A little bit of grandma's magic goes a long way." The gnome continues to run, leaping over the bar counter that is almost as tall as he is! He bursts through the swinging door into the kitchen , past the surprised cook and bartender, to crash into the locked back door! This bar seems more worried about thieves than fire codes...
Jaraduk SP 7/7 HP 13/13
Akh SP 0/9 HP 0/11 RP 3/3, Unconscious, Dying
Strek SP 7/7 HP 12/12
Guess? SP 6/6 HP 7/7
Del x2 SP: 5/5 HP: 9/9
Lars SP 5/5 HP 9/9
Bounty Hunter, "Horizon" 7 Damage, Shaken 1 Round, Graviton 2
Bounty, "Cicil" 4 Damage
Strek presses the "overheat" button underneath the barrel and his battery coils glow red .
"Don't s'pose there's a bounty on yer head we can collect?"
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It just isn't Akh's day.
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A solarian? Perhaps it's my connection to ancient Golarion, but I feel like I was one in a former life...
Utterly pissed off at how much air his last swing felt, Jaraduk snorts violent and winds up again to take it out on the drow.
After he steps alongside the drow, in hopes of starting to box it in between him and Akh.
"What tha?!? I said DON'T run!" Guess? sighs in exasperation .
Guess? pursues the gnome by hopping over the same bar counter...
...into the same back room. Guess? then drops the dogslicer and uses both hands to shoots the gnome!
"Like I was saying, you're going gnome-where!!!"
or below is flat-footed
and -2 to saves if Stunt and Strike succeeded
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"Hey, get back here!" Del exclaims at the gnome. Seeing the drow attack her friends she adds, "Stop it, you bloodthirsty bully! The killer's getting away!"
Del's about to chase down the gnome when she sees Akh fall unconscious. Her eyes widen and she scowls at the drow. "You should be ashamed of yourself!" She pulls out a healing serum and feeds it to Akh.
She pulls out her pulsecaster pistol and fires a shot at the drow.
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As Strek, Del, and Jaraduk unload on the drow, he stumbles in pain then holds up a hand. "Alright, alright, I surrender. Take the gnome, they ain't worth dying over." He sheathes his black energy sword into a long sheath on his side, a dark purple mote of energy floating out of it to float above his shoulder.
In the kitchen, the gnome puts his hand on the interior lock of the door - ready to make his escape! The crack of Guess?'s rifle nearly deafens the quartet in the kitchen, it's shell cracking Cicil's armor to expose the skin of their neck to the environment. In shock, the gnome turns around with his hands up. "Whoa! No need to kill an innocent man!"
The half-orc bartender stands up straight, rubbing at her ringing ears. She grabs the gnome by the neck and drags him into the main room. “If you are all done wrecking my place,” she says, pointing to the door leading to the VIP Lounge , “the guy you’re looking for is in there.” She slaps the drow's shoulder. "You're paying to fill the bullet holes, Horizon. Told you to stop picking fights." She lifts the gnome up onto the counter and pokes a finger into his face then down at the datapad.“Y'aint paying me today though, this isn't your bounty. Look at the picture,” she explains. “This one’s got blue eyes. That one’s eyes are purple.” Watching the interaction, you notice the half-orc has significantly more muscle and casual power than she's been letting on. Seems this bartender can handle her dangerous crowd.
Jaraduk SP 7/7 HP 13/13
Akh SP 0/9 HP 8/11 RP 3/3
Strek SP 7/7 HP 12/12
Guess? SP 6/6 HP 7/7
Del SP: 5/5 HP: 9/9
Lars SP 5/5 HP 9/9
Bounty Hunter, "Horizon" 22 Damage
Bounty, "Cicil" 15 Damage
Despite the violence and adrenaline just a few moments prior, Jaraduk enters civil conversation and replies to the bartender, holding up one finger earnestly.
Perhaps the eye color was changed with contact lenses? It's all the rage these days. You can have abyssal red eyes if you want!
He grins sheepishly and turns to trudge toward the VIP lounge. He deactivates and slings his doshko back over his shoulder and across his back as he goes.
Well... that was fun. We should go to bars with dinner programs more often!
Strek STRETCHES his head and neck from side to side to relieve some tension, shoulders his weapon after it cools down, then approaches the bartender and holds up his credstick.
"Got any Slurm?"
Akh lifts himself up off the floor and pats his claw on the missing wound. When he spots Del with an empty healing serum, he coughs out "I am very grateful. Undoubtedly, that Horizon was craving slaughter, and if you hadn't intervened I'd be well and truly dead."
He floats back up to rest atop a bar stood. "Can I get a drink before we go potentially get killed in the VIP lounge? Or any other bloodthirsty sorts decide to finish the job?" He eyes the bounty hunter somberly before looking over at the gnome "So who are you then?"
"Make that two," Strek adds, tipping his head in Akh's direction.
Del crosses her arms and lingers with Jaraduk, clearly not trusting the gnome. He looked just like the killer! She wondered, not for the first time, if "Cicil" had ensorcelled the bartender.
She takes another step back, just in case, then gives the bartender a serious LOOK...
...before backing toward the VIP lounge.
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The bartender reaches into the cooler and pulls out to bottles of Slurm. "On the house. Be careful, gives you a heck of a hangover." Meanwhile, the gnome stays on top of the bartop and continues to protest his innocence. "My name is Cicil! I only have that book of riddles in my bag because they're fun. New things are always fun!" Horizon looks at him dubiously. "And the fingerprints?" The gnome looks sheepish. "I'm a bad cook." You shake your head and leave the confrontation behind. That's JUST what a riddle-making serial killer would say!
The door to the VIP room opens silently, into what seems like another world. A black leather couch, a few metal chairs, and a coffee table fill most of the space - all of it top end and clean. The northeast wall of this room is a single large window looking out into the rest of the bar. You thought that looked like one-way transparent aluminum. Not very subtle. You check your datapad for the time and see that it's gone into Drift-Mode.
A male drow waits for you on the couch, a clear martini in hand. He stands, offering you a slight bow. "Impressive work out there. I see we hired the best. I am Tause Jarzeed, your humble servant." Tause is a noncombatant, tall and handsome, and dressed in expensive casual clothing that would fit in at a party or rave. He nods respectfully first to Guess? then to Akh. "Captain, thank you for bringing your crew here so quickly. Akh, Sinjin sends his kind regards. He apologizes for not being able to see you in person, and for that incident with the airlock." The drow winks before greeting the rest of you by name. "Can I get you a drink? On this harsh world, even business must be softened with liquor or debauchery." He hails a robot waiter and takes your orders, insisting. As the waiter leaves, he gets down to it. "Now, to business. My employer would like to hire you to transport 50 tons of premium House Zeizerer weapons from Apostae to the planet Vohxa in Near Space. Weapon theft is taken very seriously on Apostae, but is a cost of doing business when you're a noble house. The EJ insurance companies were aware of this and amended the contract for you." He smirks and shrugs. "So the cargo will be delivered to your starship in the hangar where you are currently parked. If another House... uh, interferes with that delivery, we will route you another. You can oversee the orcs as they load it for you, please let me know if those laggards steal anything." He checks his datapad for reference then continues. "And delivery should be made to Commander Vash at Labor Camp 1120 on Vohxa’s surface. Shouldn't be too hard to find, not much on that rock." He pauses a beat. "It's odd, the compensation for this trip is exceptionally good. Better than I normally see. Maybe there’s an emergency on Vohxa that prompts this sudden delivery,” he says, speculating. “Oh well, not for me to worry about. The Gideron Authority is paying the bills here. If you’re willing to take the job, sign here, and I’ll have the armaments delivered to your ship.” He proffers a datapad with the shipping contract, expecting you to sign.
Though Tause is definitely a smooth and charismatic businessman, you don't feel any duplicity from him. He's been informed on you and the job, but not why you were hired or why the job is so special to need urgent delivery.
Guess? says to the party, "My curiosity is killing me. I GOTTA know!"
Guess? approaches the Horizon, Kaden and the gnome.
Guess? turns to Horizon, "You really don't seem like you're cut out for bounty hunting. You had the gnome in cuffs for cryin' out loud! And she still got away?!? I think you actually owe us a little fee for stopping your bounty from escaping! And for some medical treatment for our innocent friend here whom you unlawfully assaulted!" Guess points at Akh. "Y'know we're within our rights to press charges for assault and battery! Even Kaden here herself says this unwarranted attack was started by you!"
Guess? holds out his hand expectantly. Then curls his fingers a few times, indicating he's waiting to receive something...
Speaking to Kaden, "Although we did not instigate this, we apologize for the disruption. As my colleague mentioned, the gnome could be disguising her appearance. Surely there's a better way to establish identity? Genetic testing perhaps? Can ya double-check? And if there is any payout, I do believe we deserve a cut..."
"And you!" says Guess? turning to the gnome. "That was impressive!! We gotta exchange notes! How DID you do that trick...?? And where did you learn it?" Guess? will try to draw some tricks of the trade out of the gnome. And perhaps give the gnome a couple pointers as well.
"Woo! Thanks for the drink! Any chance we can soften things a little bit more with that debauchery you mentioned??"
Taking the datapad, Guess? will give it a look over. "Everything you say certainly seems to be in order. But let me take a look through here..."
Guess? will see if anything is out of the ordinary but doesn't really expect it. "Is it often that a rival house ambushes the loading of cargo at the docks? Seems like the docks security would be tight enough that such events wouldn't occur, amirite? And you've got orc teamsters who tend to steal. Okay, so we should check the weight of the cargo before the orcs are dismissed. Gotcha!"
Guess? will then ask, "So hey, House Zeizerer's products are definitely top notch - bestest of the best rep! Any chance you've got a sample or two that you can throw our way? It'd probably help us protect the shipment that much better. I mean, look at what we're working with here!" Guess? shows Tause the ratty-ass dogslicer that Guess? is carrying.
"And look at me! I don't even have basic protective gear!" Guess? gestures to himself, pointing out the lack of any armor but is instead wearing a ratty-ass EJ-branded spacesuit.
"Also, do you have any additional side jobs or deliveries for us over in Vohxa? Always happy to take on the occasional odd job if any!"
Strek whistles appreciatively while examining the room's tech. "Signal jammers. Top notch. It's not just space where nobody can hear ya scream. I'll take another Slurm."
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Horizon smirks at Guess?, literally looking down his nose at the diminutive goblin. He gestures to his distinctive House Zeizerer armor. "You aren't familiar with our world, adventurer. Clearly." He steps up close to Guess?, confrontational. "You are neither a drow nor a Lady of a house. This is our world, you're just standing in it." The bartender slams her fist on the bartop. "No more blood in my bar. Take it outside."
Silence fills the bar with ominous tension. A few customers leave change on the table and walk out. The bounty hunter just takes a careful step back. "I have my bounty. No problem here." The half-orc chuckles. "Nah, I'm splitting this one 50-50. Seeing how they caught her the second time." The drow blusters, complaining how you clearly broke her out of his rightful custody.
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Tause waves a hand carelessly. "Raids happen very rarely to a House as powerful as Zeizerer. Once a week, maximum." His eyes glint and he looks you up and down. "Yes, you do seem less armed than most on the planet. Hopefully you don't see pirates." He shrugs. "But that is what insurance is for. Besides, you don't look like you could pay the down payment on a Zei rifle. No offense."
“The Gideron Authority is building more warships every day for their conflict with the Marixah Republic, and any other world unfortunate enough to have once had a hobgoblin population,” Tause explains. “Those warships are filled with soldiers, soldiers need guns, and Lord Sinjin supplies those guns. With your help, of course.” He shrugs. "But not much of a market for odd jobs. Our planet is good at many things, and border control is one of them. As for the hobgoblins... I wouldn't want to get caught sneaking something into their zone."
"Good news for you: We're too poor to be smugglers," Strek says between chugs of his second Slurm.
Somewhat disappointed at the lack of potential revenue on the side, Guess? says, "Can't blame a goblin for askin!"
Lars grabs a drink from the bar after the combat and stays quiet and sulks quietly at the failure of his spell during the fight, mentally going over the code he used line by line trying to see where he went wrong.
He’s still consumed with his mental task while the job details are laid out, half listening to a pretty standard sounding delivery, perking up when the contract is brought out, leaning forward to look it over.
Del wrinkles her nose, "Oh, dear. We don't usually ship guns..." She eyes the contract with worry. "It does seem to be above board, though," she admits, knowing the transaction was legitimate even if she didn't like it.
Seeing the new beverage, she decides to have one. She did love sampling local cuisine.
The nuar incredulously blurts out Once a week?! "Very rarely"? Are you just expecting to collect insurance credits as revenue?!
As the conversation goes on he gets somewhat quiet and starts to seem a little more aloof. When the briefing details finally end, he almost opens his mouth to emit the question that's been repeating over and over in his head.
And where are these warships headed?
Ultimately he conveniently lets others' questions and remarks fill the space and decides that maybe it's better to not know.
Akh gazes off into the middle distance. "The airlock..." It's clear that the memory is terribly unpleasant, and it takes him a while before he rejoins the conversation.
As Tause starts listing the circumstances and considerations for the weapons delivery, Akh starts considering what could go wrong "So we keep an eye on the weapons while here. If someone comes to steal them, we are significantly less well equipped and less skilled than most people on Apostae..." He's silent for a moment "So how are we going to be penalized with if any of the weapons do not reach their destination? Or if any of them end up damaged in the inevitable life or death brawl? What fate worse than death awaits us."
Akh settles gloomily down "Well, we will do our best to deliver them."
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Del is well aware that half-orcs and orcs are second class citizens on Apostae, a minority that makes up the majority of the working class. Though resentful of their position in the world, there is little they can do to improve it.
Del and Guess? are familiar with the Marixah Republic, a small civilization just outside the Pact Worlds. Mainly consisting of humans, half-orcs, and half-elves - a contingent of hobgoblins immigrated after the Gap unearthed some ancient hobgoblin ruins. The Marixah Republic remains on good terms with the Pact Worlds, though the Veskarium laughs at the notion that the Marixah Republic could be their peers. The conflict between the Gideron Authority and the Marixah Republic has recently escalated, with the Authority blockading some sections of Republic territory; since hobgoblins once lived in those regions, the Authority believes in the right to claim them for itself. The Republic's small military has done little to stop the recent invasion of Vohxa, the democracy's parliament too busy arguing to take action.
Guess? knows that the the Gideron Authority is a monocultural and isolated society, a hobgoblin empire in Near Space. The Authority was barely a player in galactic politics before a few decades ago when a military coup overthrew the government. It’s gotten pretty aggressive lately, expanding to nearby worlds hobgoblins used to inhabit. The Authority is self-reliant, with few interactions with the Pact Worlds or Veskarium.
At Del's hesitation, Tause gives her a warm smile. "Do not worry, guns are what we do. Just as normal and safe as shipping loaves of bread." To Jaraduk and Akh, he waves a hand. "Do not worry about the other Houses, they would likely only ransom you anyway. And we will protect the shipment while it is on planet, it is a blow to the House' honor to allow a raid to succeed." He pulls up the contract and looks at a specific section. "Yes, if the shipment does not arrive then the EJ Corp will have to pay a fine to the Authority. Travelling between worlds can be dangerous, I'm sure they would not hold you accountable for any... accidents." With that unhelpful assurance echoing in your ears, you decide that you're ready to go. You sign the contract and head back to your ship.
You leave the VIP room just in time to see the Drow Horizon leaving the bar in a fit of rage. Over on the counter, the gnome is doing a series of cartwheels. Seeing your group, he quickly darts behind the counter and into the kitchen. The bartender shrugs and calls out, "Better luck next time! DNA came back clean, wrong bounty." Bad luck for you, par for the course at this point. You hail a robo-taxi and head back to the hanger. Soon after you arrive, a truck driven by a crew of four orcs arrives with a few hundred wooden crates. A collective sigh of relief comes from your group when you realize the truck wasn't raided by an enemy drow House. As they pull up you peek at the labels to find 50 tons of tactical infinity rifles and mk 2 frag grenades, all carefully packed, tracked, and sealed. Your eyebrows raise at the label on the seal. THIS PACKAGE PROTECTED BY HOUSE ZEIZERER MK5 EXPLOSIVE TAPE. ONLY TO BE REMOVED UPON RECEIPT BY PURCHASER. OPEN AT YOUR OWN RISK. The orcs speak to each other in Orc and three of them begin to load the cargo onto BD514. The fourth orc comes over and speaks to you in a gruff voice. "Alright, I s'ppose you're the lucky saps leaving this rock. My boys and I gonna load 'em up into your ship real careful like, it'll take a few hours. Then you gotta run it by the export stiffs and you'll be free to leave." He reaches into a back pocket and pulls out a crinkled stack of papers. "Here's the papers you gotta sign to acknowledge our delivery. Don't know why it's so darn long. Lawyers. Anyways, read through it and sign before we get done." He pauses a second to make sure you don't have any objections then heads back to the group wrangling the first box out of the truck.
Jaraduk holds up a finger when the papers are present, and states matter-of-factly.
With respect, we'll sign when they're all loaded onto the ship. Anyway, it gives us time to read the terms.
Then, realizing he knows no legalize whatsoever, looks nervously around the group at who wants to actually look them over.
Umm......
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You look over the papers, which looks like normal legal contracts. Though, this one does have some very odd sections like "The delivery crew did not show loyalty to House Arabani. - The packages did not have damaged paint. - You were not killed by a Drow House other than House Zeizerer."
"...not yet, at least."
Strek will help the Orcs load the weapons onto the ship. He's been a grunt before (and as recently as the berry "episode"), and the more hands loading the quicker everything will get finished. Plus, that's a LOT of explosives, so at the very least, he wants to know how everything is stacked and sorted, and to make sure it's done properly.
He also sympathizes with them, having come from a similar background in Azlanti space, and inquires how one can earn their way out of indentured servitude here.
"I'll go through that." says Guess?, looking through the unusually long paperwork.
After all the cargo is loaded, Guess? will do a check to see if he spots anything missing or otherwise not in order.
And if everything looks good, Guess? will sign and return the paperwork.
Guess? will be sure to share what he knows of the Gideron Authority and the Marixah Republic with the rest of the crew.
"Since we're flying under the Pact Worlds banner, I suppose we're technically neutral. But keep your eyes open. I wouldn't be surprised if the Marixah Republic tries to intercept us or the Gideron Authority tries to stiff us."
Akh doesn't help the orcs load anything onto the ship, leery of drow contracts that might penalize almost anything that differs from the written description. He peers over Guess' shoulder at the contract, but doesn't have much more to add than the goblin already understands. He checks to make sure none of the explosive tape is in danger of exploding mid-flight, then settles into the ship's common area.
"Getting in between two rival factions is always tricky. Even if we're neutral, they probably won't see us that way when we sell weapons to a particular side." He ponders "At least these two probably aren't as bad as the drow houses, yes?"
"Drow arms dealers or authoritarian hobgoblin fascists. That's probably a toss up. Marixah Republic might be the most pleasant to deal with but as usual, it's the less pleasant types that are the customers paying the bills!"
Guess? quickly adds, "But it'll be fine! I'm sure everything will be fine!! There hasn't yet been a single job that we haven't been able to handle!
"Sure... Maybe not every job was technically completed but they were all handled one way or another, amirite?!?" Guess? says the word 'completed' using finger quotes.
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Jaraduk grunts at Guess? and shakes his head nervously, making the finger-slicing-across-throat gesture to stop while he's ahead.
"Didn't know Nuar could grow those back."
Del crosses her arms and taps her foot while the cargo's loaded, seeming ill at ease. She did not like who these guns were going to and she did not like having such dangerous cargo on her beloved BD. Explosive tape? Crates of grenades? This was going to be a nerve-wracking trip...
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As best you can tell, the contract is on the up and up. The orcs, and Strek, finish loading the cargo after a few hours of sweaty work. As recommended, you inspect all of the cargo to make sure it is all there and not tampered with before signing. The orcs are disgruntled, but understand. One mutters a complaint to the supervising orc, "Alle hier denken, sie sind besser als wir", only to receive a quick punch to the shoulder for his infraction.
"Everybody around here thinks they're better than us."
Once everything is set, you load up into the now much heavier starship and take off!
It's been at least a month since you've headed out of the Pact Worlds but you quickly settle into routines for the long journey. Del does her best to cut down the time but it still takes almost two weeks in the Drift. Luckily for the crew, the time is uneventful.
On day 13 you all gather in the bridge, anticipating your arrival. With little warning your stomach tightens as you enter real space to see a small world awash in snow and rock, its jutting mountain peaks competing with the lofty factory towers that clutter the planet’s surface. As soon as BD514 emerges from the Drift, the ship is detected by a fleet of Gideron Authority vessels patrolling the system that begin to move toward you. A frightening looking attack vessel approximately twice the size of BD514 peels away from the hobgoblin fleet off in the distance and pulls alongside you, targeting with weapons and broadcasting a warning in Common: “This is the Gideron Authority attack vessel Falchion. Identify yourselves and your mission.”
As you gather your response, your computer pings to let you know that the Falchion is scanning you!
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"Let's not scan them back guys. Best not to provoke them. Trust me, who's got this? Guess?!?"
Guess? replies in Goblin:
"The shipment consists of critical supplies needed by the Commander in his continuing effort against the Marixah Republic scum! The origin of the supplies is from drow House Zeizerer of Apostae - ya know what I mean??
"So!! We request clearance to continue with our delivery. Please feel free to scan our vessel thoroughly to verify we are a freighter transport. And if needed, please contact Commander Vash to authenticate our authorization. Whaddaya say, friend???"
If the other ship doesn't seem to understand Goblin for some reason, then Guess? will repeat the above in Common.
Lars remains grumpy and largely quiet while not helping load the ship and during the voyage.
When Guess? mentions not scanning the ship Lars stops his finger, hovering a few centimeters above the “scan other ship” button and looks at the goblin quizzically, then let’s their resident fast talker do his thing for the moment.
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The opposing ship responds almost immediately, in Goblin!
"Ah, finally a trader of some consequence! This is Lieutenant Sham of the Gideron Authority. Welcome home, Captain Grant. By your accent, I assume you are one of the smaller cousins to our hobgoblin selves. You are welcome nonetheless, brother!" After a short communication pause, he returns. "Yes, our scan has verified your claim. Very good, we appreciate your work for The Fight To Reclaim Our Rightful Hobgoblin Lands. Yes, we give you permission to land at Labor Camp 1120. It is nestled at the base of a large mountain in the northern hemisphere, sending coordinates now."
After the brief interchange of words, the opposing ship's officer switches back to Common. "And do not deviate from your course or land anywhere else. There is rebel activity in the region. Any deviation from this flight plan,” he says in a grave voice, “will be met with sustained anti-aircraft fire.” With that dire warning, you head down to the planet.
As BD514 descends through the clouds toward its destination, signs of war and conflict quickly become apparent. Blast craters and wrecked vehicles pockmark fractured highways, shattered stumps of smokestacks rise from shut-down factories, and the tracks of hobgoblin war machines crisscross the countryside. Labor Camp 1120 comes into sight: a large rectangular compound nestled against the foot of a mountain, surrounded by high walls and spiral wire, accessed by a single enormous gate and protected by multiple guard towers with gun emplacements. A flat landing area with several parked vehicles has room for BD514. A cavernous mine entrance leads into the mountain. The camp has several rugged, prefabricated buildings, including a barracks, mess, officer quarters, and storage depot, but also sports a large collection of plastic shelters that look like they provide little protection from the cold mountain air. Hobgoblin soldiers patrol or guard locations throughout the camp, but most of the population seems to consist of dwarven, human, and shirren prisoners, including some children, all of whom are forced to work in the mine. As the ship lands, a small squad of four hobgoblin troopers approaches, led by a Gideron officer with a datapad in her hand. You get out of the ship, walking slowly in this militarized environment. Her identification identifies the hobgoblin as Quartermaster Siib. "What are you doing here? This camp is not cleared for civilian access?" At first Siib is curt and brusque in her demeanor; after seeing Guess? move forward her attitude becomes less hostile. You show her the paperwork but she is not mollified. “You can’t unload 50 tons of personal armaments here,” the officer insists, gesturing around the camp. “Look around you! This is a prison labor camp! Do you think it’s a wise idea to put laser rifles and frag grenades a few yards away from this desperate swarm of vermin?” She gestures toward the dwarven, human, and shirren prisoners in threadbare and sometimes tattered clothing, hiding inside cheap plastic shelters or shambling in and out of the mine entrance under the close eye of Gideron guards. Some eye the starship curiously while also trying to avoid the attention of the soldiers. “We don’t even have a place to store them!”
Strek just sits back quietly and lets the captain do the talking. He knows the dangers of speaking when not spoken to.
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"Did they just threaten to shoot us down for going off course?" Del asks from her spot at the helm. "Sounds like my mother..."
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As Del brings BD in for a landing, she eyes their surroundings. "Oh, dear. This job's not going to end well."
At the hobgoblin's complaints about leaving weapons in reach of prisoners, Del mutters under her breath from the back of the group, "Sounds like the perfect spot..."
Leaving the talking to Guess?, Del eyes her surroundings, looking for entrances and exits, counting the number of guards, and examining the health and well being of the prisoners.
Unfortunately, the sight of a few kids with grumbling tummies makes Del completely lose track of pretty much everything. All she comes away with is one certainty: she had to feed those kids! But how?!