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Ralk glances over his shoulder at Sabe and frowns. "What are you talking about? I'm the pilot. Nobody flies this ship but--" Whatever he was about to say is cut off as there's an audible whine that drops in pitch from his console. The Bothan's jaw drops, and then he practically throws himself from his seat, drawing a massive blaster from under his vest. "What kriff did you just do to my ship?" he hisses into his comms, the question carrying directly to Anakin. "I just lost the docking gun, and without that we're kriffing bantha poodoo out here!"
It's fine by me! OOC it makes sense to look at it from that viewpoint, and it potentially provides growth for Sabe becoming more action-oriented later on. IC, Ralk had never figured the Nabooans (Nabooites?) would do too much since he's more independent-minded and doesn't have great love for authority figures anyway.
Ralk rolls his eyes as he sees the speeder's target change, and he continues tracking it with the docking gun. "Putting a hole in my copilot isn't any better," he grunts, sending another shot down range.
Well, to be fair, the book states outright that using Force Powers to damage living enemies results in a Dark Side Point. The idea is that the Force is meant to be an energy of life and healing, not destruction, and using it to directly harm a living creature is a corruption of its intended purpose. That said, I've always felt that interpretation to be a little black and white... and as we know, only a Sith deals in absolutes.
The swearing continues over the comms as Ralk's shot isn't very effective, and he swivels the gun, tracking his target. "If you put a hole my ship..." he mutters, pulling the trigger once more.
With the comms still open, Anakin and Kyra are able to hear Ralk's tirade as the Intrigue takes fire. "You karking Hutt-spawn! I just got her polished!" The Bothan swears a moment longer as he swivels the cannon's controls, aiming at one of the speeders. "Kid, how's the repairs coming? You tell me the second you get that coupling in. I'm gonna kill these... these... nerf herders!"
Hearing Sabe's voice echoing down the hall of the ship, Ralk grins and focuses his aim on the same target.
As the shot connects, Ralk flips a switch, opening the comms channel in the engine room. "How's it going in there, kid?"
Ralk locks in on his target, frowning slightly as they start to take evasive action, and pulls the trigger. An overclocked whine comes from the blaster cannon as a massive blast of energy flies from its muzzle, shooting directly at his target.
Ralk keeps his hands on the controls for the blaster cannon, keeping them aimed at the speeder as it approaches. "A little closer," he mutters, his eyes locked on his target.
Ralk breathes in and out only a little more heavily than usual, and he flexes his grip on the docking gun's controls. After a moment's thought, he reaches down and roots for a loose panel, behind which he quickly flips a small switch between some wires. There's a spark, and then the whine of the docking gun goes up a notch as more power is routed into the blaster. It's a simple trick that makes a small difference--but small differences add up to win fights.
Ralk nods and heads into the ship as well, fighting the urge to draw his blaster as he goes. The trouble's outside, not in. He glances down the hall to the engine room, considering checking on the kid, but there isn't time. As much as he hates having some guy he doesn't know work on his baby, the Bothan has had enough risky getaways to know when it's time to get things moving. So instead, he heads to the cockpit and fires up the docking gun--he's rigged it to operate independently of the main power if necessary, for moments just like this. "Alright, sweetheart, I know some boy you don't know is poking around, but it'll be okay, he's getting you nice and fixed up and then we'll be out of here. And when we get to Coruscant I'm gonna get you a nice cleaning and maybe those thrusters I've been talking about..." Ralk's hands grip the gun controls as he speaks to his ship, swiveling to to keep an eye on the approaching dust cloud.
Hey all, posting this in all my games to let people know I'll be away for a few days. My family is headed to camp later today, and I won't have Internet or my computer while I'm there. I should be back and posting Friday afternoon/evening (Eastern Time), but please push the game as needed, botting my character if you need to do so. Thanks!
Ralk frowns and hops on another bike. "If we can fit what we have, let's just move. Kyra, ride with the kid, keep him out of trouble. Jedi, you're with me. Captain, Mando, I trust you two to keep each other in line." The Bothan revs the engine to life and looks around. "I won't lie, it's been ages since I flew one of these bad boys, but it sure feels good."
"...and they say you never forget how..."
As the group makes its way into a seedier part of the city, Ralk moves up to take the lead, and quickly makes his way toward a cluster of apparent swoop bikers. "Hey!" he shouts, walking up to them. He turns and points at another group a ways over. "Those guys said your bikes are slower than a dying bantha. Said it was probably because your mother... well, I really don't want to say it myself." The bothan swallows and looks between the groups, wide-eyed. "Are you gonna take that?"
As the group moves through one alley, Ralk spies a pile of scrap with a couple of interesting components. He falls behind for a moment, quickly working some magic on them with his skilled hands, and when he stands up, he grins at the improvised tripwire explosive he's just made. It won't do any real damage, but it's sure to cause a distraction and buy some time when the Mandos inevitably stumble through here. That's why you don't wear clunky armor and helmets, kids.
Yeah, I've been busy and unable to access the boards even during my free time for the past few days. That said, I should have some more reliable access and time for the next day or two, so I'll try and get caught up on everything soon--including PMing you!
"Kid makes a point." Ralk turns and points at Anakin. "Kid, you're with us." He swivels to turn his finger at Kyra. "Kyra, don't argue. He's right about the install. You're a damn good mechanic but you're even better with that blaster. I know it, you know it, we both know we both know it." He then turns to Watto. "And don't you make a fuss either. We're borrowing him, he'll get back just fine. If not, you can take it up with the Mandalorians." The Bothan pulls the heavy pistol from its concealed holster and flicks the safety off, readying it in case there's trouble. "Are we ready to go?"
"Look, there's a lot going on that we don't fully understand, so right now I agree with the Jedi." Ralk pauses for a moment and glances at Obi-Wan, as if he can't quite believe what he's just said. "We should get back to the ship, quick, quiet, unnoticed. And with our new part."
Ralk pauses at the Mandalorian's comments, and in the moments that follow, he listens to the others. Finally, he smirks and shrugs at Anakin. "Nobody of consequence, if you can believe it." He looks back to Kyra and frowns. "Holster that. If he wanted us dead he would've started shooting by now. Not that we wouldn't shoot back fine ourselves," he adds. "The uh, her Highness has the right idea. Clearly there's more going on than we'd realized, and this kind gentleman has offered to help us. He's about the only one who seems to be doing that, so I say we take the offer." The Bothan turns and looks at the rest of the group. "Unless people have a problem with that?" But when he brings his hands in front of his waist, his fingers rapidly work out a quick phrase, hidden to the Mandalorian but visible to Kyra. Follow for now. Keep alert.
"As much as I know water should be my choice..." Ralk grins and shrugs. "I've never said no to a fine Corellian. Let's have a drink and talk shop, friend." What follows is long conversation between captain and merchant, smuggler and supplier, pilot and mechanic, all rolled in to one winding speech. Watto's savvy and experienced, and so is Ralk, and they go back and forth on the finer points of design, make and models of different components, and whether or not a hyperdrive motivator can ever run as well as it says on the tin. Beyond the motivator, Ralk's interested in the maneuvering jets and the better hyperdrive, but he doesn't have the credits on hand to make a buy for them. "Don't suppose you'd be willing to let me race you for them?" he asks, snickering at his own suggestion. In the end, he just bargains for the necessary part, raising points on its hand-me-down quality, the fact he could just strip one from any cheap hyperdrive on the planet, and his ability to install it himself if need be.
- - - - - When the other man comes bursting in, Ralk is quick to reach for his gun, but he sees the man's appearance and actions. He waves for the others to get down as well, particularly when he notices the Smuggler's Signs, and he quickly responds with his own quick gestures. Explain now. What's going on?
"Five hundred?" Ralk looks from Anakin to Kyra to the others. "Five hundred credits for the installation, or is that for the whole deal, motivator included?" The Bothan seems a tad aghast for a moment, lost for words, but he quickly recovers and grins, extending a hand. "For that price I'll kiss the Bantha myself. Before you go touching my baby, though, I need to know you've got a good head on you." The looks going on around the room--the kid to Sabe, Sabe to the kid, Obi-Wan to the kid, Kyra to Obi-Wan, Panaka to nobody in particular--don't escape Ralk's own perception, but he figures it's easier to let them slide for now. He snaps his fingers once to grab Anakin's attention and folds his arms. "What kind of ships have you worked on exactly? Replaced the motivator in a YT model? Cause this one isn't quite like that."
No problem, man. Real life comes first, and friends are important. Take care of what you need to, and I'll be here.
When Ralk makes his landing, he breathes easy for the first time since leaving Naboo, although he doesn't let the others see it. Instead he just turns around and claps his hands with a smile. "Well, here we are, folks. As a couple precautionary measures, I'd warn you all to keep your eyes squinted, your hair covered if you can, and your wits about you. This is Tattooine we're talking, and not even Mos Eisley. You're not gonna find a more wretched hive of scum and villainy--believe me, I've looked." So saying, the Bothan makes some quick checks before leaving the ship, including a search for the part and grabbing a spare cloth that he ties around his head to try and keep the sand out of his fur. Just before leaving, he gives Qui-Gon and Padme a long look. "Try not to let anything happen while we're gone?" Once out and about, Ralk leads the way as best he can to Watto's, and he pulls the scarf from his head as he steps inside. "Alright, friends. I'm looking to buy and you're looking to sell. Just tell me, have I come to the right place?"
"Hey, don't count out the utility of a pointy object at your side." Ralk chuckles. "Kyra knows all about that. I've still got a spot on my arm. Who knew cantina forks could do so much damage?" He swivels around and winks. "Besides, spears are quiet. Lightsabers have that whole hmm, thrmmm, skshshhh thing going on." The Bothan claps his hands. "But that sounds like a good plan to me. We go out to find a motivator, take you with us as a decoy, leave the real queen here with a Jedi Master to keep her safe. Like Kyra said--doesn't get much safer. Even a kriffing Mando's gonna think twice before trying that."
I absolutely would have, but I was pressed for the skills I have, and they all seemed very necessary for a well-rounded smuggler/pilot. I probably could have gone without Use Computer, but it fit Ralk's background, and it is useful to have on top of a computer for astrogating. And with my ludicrous Gather Information modifier, we can find out anything we need to know with a little asking around--which also fits Ralk as a character. He may not know about something, but he knows a guy who knows something...
Oh, Ralk definitely has some ties to authority, and as much as he grouses about the Republic, he does respect what they've done for the Galaxy. In a way, the Republic makes Ralk's life viable: not only do they create a situation where there's contraband to be smuggled and crimes to be committed, but they also keep the Galaxy safe enough for him to do it. He also has memories of his father's work, which while it wasn't explicitly stated in the backstory vignettes, was intended to be tied into the Bothans' private work as well as their work with Republic Intelligence--probably the beginnings of the SpyNet. A new idea occurs to me as we discuss the ideological conflict aspect of things... I've been foreseeing Ralk and Kyra as a sort of "fringe influence" on Anakin, an outlet for him to stay independent and a little wild while still part of the Jedi. But what if, as time goes on, their relationship grows more and more strained? After all, Ralk is by no means a perfect man, nor is he a flawless hero or even a particularly altruistic-minded person. I very intentionally included that Ralk already has a Dark Side point on his sheet, and I expect he may garner one or two more as time goes on. He isn't a classic hero--he's a mercenary, a fringer; he's done some bad things, and he probably will again. Seeing that might be a callback to the bad parts of Anakin's life before the Jedi, and a reminder of the dangers that lurk when the Galaxy is too free and open. I think it could be interesting to see missions down the line when Ralk makes a choice that Anakin--and probably others--don't agree with. Maybe it's a morally ambiguous moment, and Ralk chooses a pragmatic option; maybe Ralk decides to save his own skin, or just not risk his life for what he sees as a lost cause. Maybe a foolhardy plan doesn't work, and somebody gets hurt, or worse. That could be a very poignant moment in turning Anakin toward liking an iron fist method for protecting other people.
"Hey, we might be overreacting here." Ralk pauses for a moment and looks at Kyra. He's flown with the woman for a while now, and she's one of the few people he'd consider a friend--and one who isn't likely to backstab him, at that. More than that, she's a skilled mechanic. If she says she didn't miss it... "Then again, we might not. If you've got some sort of plan for danger, you should probably use it. I honestly don't like this myself, but Kyra's right, we don't have another choice. We'll try and keep things quick once we're there. Get the part, get it fixed, get out. It might be best if the queen stay here with somebody, yeah." Ralk leans back and slaps his palm against one knee. Can't believe it. Somebody got to her. Never working for the Republic again...
Ralk and I are the only characters who aren't at least based on someone from the prequels, so we're kind of wild cards here, so if anyone has cool ideas for me I'm all ears. I don't know about you, but my hope is just for us to be a good foil for the Jedi (in this case, along with Panaka and Sabe; we'll actually be foils for them as well in a way). The prequels were all about Anakin and Obi-Wan, fair enough, but dear gods could they have used a Han Solo type. Obi-Wan was fun but serious: although he had witty banter and an independent personality, he was ultimately a disciplined Master of the Jedi Order. Anakin was a moody, angsty teenager (well, after being a weird little kid, but we're already throwing that out entirely). There wasn't an outsider to the Jedi who had a serious role in the films, other than maybe Padme, and it would have been helpful if they had someone to fill that part. That's my goal for Ralk: he's the scoundrel, the fringer. I imagine Kyra will be much the same. And assuming the party sticks together (which I'm assuming is the plan), Ralk will continue to serve as a fringe element influence on Anakin. The fact he also brings Bothans into view as a major player is a nice addition in my mind, although part of that is that I just like them. Unless there's time for a murder. We can only hope! ;) "holy f*&% it's a s&##hole in the middle of nowhere why would anyone go there ever." Smuggling, mostly. And the occasional murder. As a side note, nobody worry: I fully plan to have Ralk introduce it as a hive of scum and villainy, so we've got that covered.
Ralk listens attentively to Panaka and Sabe's conversation, but doesn't interject. When JonJon speaks up, he glances back at the Gungan and snickers. "Unless you've got a hyperdrive converter hidden in those ears, I'm thinking we're gonna need to go looking. And we'd need to stop anyway. I've got a feeling this is going to take some external repair work."
"Then we'll just make sure they don't find out," Ralk says, his voice remaining cool and straightforward. "The fact the Hutts control it means we shouldn't have Mandalorians snooping around after us. We can lie low for a bit, fix the drive, and then hop to Coruscant." He glances over his shoulder at the captain. "Unless you know more about astrogation than I thought, and you've got a better idea of where to go? If you'd prefer your queen facing probable death I'd rather you do that on the ground instead of dragging my ship into it."
Yeah, it's kind of strange. There are a few ways to try and justify it, I guess, but in the end it'll still probably feel half-assed and inconsistent. The best I can figure is orbital patterns and something something hyperspace lanes.
Moving from the cargo hold, Ralk waves an absent hand at Panaka's suggestion. "Nah, we can work something out. And I'd rather have you on hand with a gun in case things go sour." Once he's seated and doing checks, Ralk looks over his shoulder at JonJon and shrugs at the Gungan's comment. "Coruscant? Don't sip out of the gutters, but if it comes in a bottle, it's usually safe enough..." He trails off as an alert comes up on the monitor. "Oh, son of a Bantha..." He looks to Kyra again as he starts the ship's takeoff sequence. "Keep those hyperdrives ready. We're taking any shot we can." The smuggler turns in his chair to face the others. "Change of plans, everybody. We're not going to Coruscant. We've got a hyperdrive error, maybe it's mechanical, maybe the computer's wrong, maybe it's just bad luck. Any case, it's not a simple 'drive shuts down and we get there slow' kind of error, it's a 'drive blows up and we turn to particles in the vacuum of space' deal." He swivels back to the console and begins rapidly working, bringing every system he can online. "Something like that, I'd rather not risk the long jump, and I'm assuming you don't want your queen getting vaporized. We're gonna hop to a world I've heard of a little ways into the Outer Rim, Tattooine. You might be wondering, shouldn't the Core be closer, but that's the thing with the Galaxy... things are always... moving." The last few words are said through gritted teeth, as Ralk grabs the controls and starts moving the ship from the surface.
Ralk ushers the rebels and their queen aboard, gesturing vaguely with his blaster. "Welcome aboard the Intrigue. I'll give you the full tour once we're in hyperspace." He heads straight to the cargo hold and stoops by the door, sliding his fingers into the crevice where the pneumatic contraption withdrew. A moment later, there's another hiss, and a section of the floor nearby clicks up. The Bothan walks over and gives a solid yank, revealing a small but serviceable space underneath. "Normally we have better accommodations for someone of your standing, highness, but we had to make do. Rest assured, there's enough air down there to last you a day or more, and a release switch inside if you need to leave before that point." The smuggler then leaves the pair to hide themselves and heads for the cockpit. Those thrusters had better hold up. He nearly leaps into the chair and starts flicking switches rapidly, bringing the console to life and readying the ship to take off. "Kyra, have the hyperdrive ready to kick in. I've got a feeling we're going to need it in a moment..." He spares a moment to make sure the computer still has the jump course charted, and then gets the ship moving, heading for orbit as quickly as he can.
"Well, let's get to the ship, then. Kyra, get on the docking gun once we're there." Ralk begins hustling, not spending as much time complaining about the water or shaking it off. "Your Majesty... while I hate to say it, it may be good for you to wait in the hidden cargo hold until we're off-planet. Just in case we're boarded, might be able to claim something else in a pinch."
Ralk isn't particularly happy about being assigned to take up the rear guard, but he doesn't complain. He casts one more sad gaze at the beskar'gam, and nods at Kyra before turning and moving off with the others, keeping low and watching for signs of danger--and signs of opportunity.
"More swimming? Can't we just shoot our way out like normal people?" Ralk glances at the Mandalorians as the group makes ready to leave. Think of what just one of those could fetch on the markets... But things are moving too quickly, and there isn't time to strip and carry off a set of Mandalorian armor. With a sigh, the Bothan smuggler turns and hustles to the doors. "Let's get moving. Jedi up front sounds good to me."
Ralk brings his blaster over to focus on one of the unhurt Mandalorians, taking time to line up a shot on a weak point of the man's armor.
When the doors are opened, Ralk steps out just enough to get a clear shot and raises his blaster, pointed at the Mandalorian by the Queen. "Take a dive, your majesty!" he shouts as he squeezes the trigger.
Ralk drops low to begin sneaking, and he thinks about asking if there's a window in the Queen's chambers--perhaps the group can sneak around on a ledge or some such--but then the others start moving to open the doors and surprise the guards, and he follows suit, drawing his blaster and readying it to fire.
When the group comes out of the canal, Ralk clambers onto dry land and sputters the rebreather out of his mouth, shaking his head like a dog in an attempt to clear it of water. When Kyra suggests he hack the computers, he's still brushing hair out of his eyes, and he waves a hand in a gesture of appreciation and agreement when Obi-Wan suggests taking over on this one. About the time the Jedi finishes slicing, the Bothan finally stands, looking more or less completely miserable. "Remind me to ask the Reps about swimming before taking the next job," he mutters. At the window, he gives a low whistle of appreciation at the smoothness of the Nabooans' ascent--both the ease of the ascension gun and the powerful leap JonJon uses. When Panaka offers a spare cable, Ralk shakes his head and opens a compartment on his utility belt. "Nah, I bring my own," he says, unspooling a length of the liquid cable and swinging the small hook on the end in a practiced motion. "Just make sure I don't fall on my ass when I do this." He hooks the grappling line, pulls it taut, and starts to climb.
Ah, no problem, Obi-Wan--I didn't see it before you, and your modifier's only one less than mine. Apologies I didn't post yesterday, when I had the chance to do so the site was down.
"Swimming?" Ralk looks to be in as much disbelief as Kyra, and he glances sidelong at the woman with a sigh. This is why I decided to fly my own way in the first place. At least then if you don't know everything, you know where to pin the blame. "Yeah, I can swim. And my gear should be okay, so long as I don't try to shoot anything down there." He pats the blaster on his hip. "I'll warn you in advance, though: Most people aren't really into the way a wet Bothan smells. Nowhere near as bad as a Wookiee, mind, but there you go." He sighs again and his ears flick in what could be annoyance, or anticipation. "Why exactly are we using the canals? I mean, I'm guessing the Mandos aren't watching them as closely, but couldn't you find another route? Maybe something nice and dry, straightforward, with a good cantina on the way?"
"Ralk Dall'rey." The Bothan turns when Panaka speaks up and offers a hand in greeting. He turns to look at the ship, and, seeing the other three, turns back with a smirk. "As for the strike team, you're looking at us. Couldn't exactly send a full regiment through the blockade, so they settled for a couple of Jedi and a crack pair of fringers. Don't worry, big guy--your queen's in good hands." He glances around and leans in, lowering his voice. "Listen, no offense, but seeing as you're a peaceful planet, I can't imagine your security defenses are the toughest I've dealt with. And we've even got the man in charge to help us break them wide open!" He grins and nods to Sabe. "And a bodyguard to help us... well, guard the bodies. I think this is going to go swimmingly."
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