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“Balls to that,” Veeta mutters under her breath before turning slightly toward Cuss and setting her glass on the table. “You feel like playing the hero today, Cuss? Remember that bar brawl in Mos Eisley? I’ll be the bunker if you want to play outrider.” Cuss and Splinterleaf: The move Veeta refers to involves her getting ready to flip over the table and use it as cover while Cuss ambles to the right of the door. Veeta hopefully will draw the stormtroopers attention, allowing Cuss to blast any who try to push into the cantina as well as keep an eye on any other bar patrons behind her. If Cuss is agreeable, Veeta will ready an action to flip the table and blast one of the stormtroopers carrying the injured woman as soon as he is in position.
"Hey bartender, when's that band start up?" Veeta asks loudly in an attempt to dispel the uncomfortable hush that had fallen over the room. "If it's going to be awhile, maybe you could provide a deck of sabacc cards for my friend and I here. Anyone who wants to join is welcome."
"You're right - they don't 'feel' Imperial, but there's something strange. We might want to order something a little less strong for the next round, either way," Veeta says, spinning her chair nonchalantly to put her back to the bar.
"Well, I'll be... Veeta, who'd turn loose a good hand like yuh? "I've been taking mostly short jobs lately, by choice. Still trying to track down word of my brother - I'm not sure you ever met him, but I probably told you about his capture. Speaking of which - you notice those stormtroopers on your way in? I thought this was an independent station, but it seems like the Empire's got its claws in everywhere. Although I've heard talk that something might be brewing that could change things ... not to mention create quite the demand for people with our particular skill set." Downing her drink and motioning to the bartender for a second round, Veeta flicks a glance toward the newcomers before leaning in closer to Cuss. "Check out Mr. Mysterious that just walked in — with an Imperial interrogation droid, no less," she says in a low voice. "Wonder what that splash of white paint means."
"Cuss, you alright? You seem distracted," Veeta says as she guides the man toward a booth in the Nexu's Claw. "Let me buy you a drink." After ordering a pair of stiff drinks from the pink-skinned bartender, Veeta turns back to the Tatooine native. "It's been what, a year since we worked together on Ord Mantell. Been staying out of trouble? Got a job lined up here or just passing through? Maybe we can find someone willing to pay decent credits for some quality shooters."
After retrieving the last of her gear from the merchant-freighter she'd spent the last week protecting, Veeta Senn had just decided to spend a few of her remaining credits in the cantina when she spotted a familiar, loping figure across the shuttle terminal. Knowing better than to use his given name in such a public setting, Veeta hurried halfway across the room before hailing the grizzled traveller. "Hey there old Womp Rat. How you been keeping?" Veeta says, offering Cuss a friendly handshake. "How 'bout we grab a drink? Then you can tell me how the hell you managed to get off Ord Mantell that last time with all your appendages attached and in their proper positions."
Marking this thread.
I'll be watching for it!
I believe Veeta has been brought up to spec. Let me know if there's anything else that needs modification.
"We ought to get our story straight before we start questioning people - something innocent sounding that won't get their hackles up," Veeta says as the ship begins to descend toward the shimmering heat of the planet's surface. "Maybe say we're looking for an old teacher, or a distant relation who's recently inherited some wealth? I don't know," Veeta shrugs. "This kind of stuff isn't my specialty - I generally come in after the target's been identified."
"We should probably make for one of the smaller spaceports - a fugitive Jedi isn't going to want to set up house in the most populated sector, but might want to be close enough to keep up on galactic happenings," Veeta says, surveying the arid landscape displayed on the ship's screens. "Visas, can you do any sort of, um, scanning, or anything? Otherwise I guess we just land and start asking around about mysterious witch-doctors or seers."
"After this swamp, I could use some sun. Let's head for Tatooine."
"That sounds like as good a plan as any. Now we've just got to blast our way through those TIE fighters and get off this ball of mud."
"Hmmm ... any ideas on where to start?" Veeta asks. "Coruscant could be the most dangerous - place is crawling with Imps. I'm not sure what the Imperial presence is like on Tatooine, but isn't that where Lu-, er, the Emperor was from? I've never heard of the other two."
Behind a lamp embedded in one wall, Veeta does find a hidden compartment with a code cylander inside. "Think this is what we're looking for?" Veeta asks, holding up a dusty code cylinder pried from the hut's mud wall. "I don't know what kind of darkness Visas is sensing, but I don't particularly want to meet it - why don't we hoof it back to the ship and plug these codes into that R2 unit."
While V-9 keeps watch, Veeta starts searching through the hovel, looking for any evidence of electronics, hidden compartments or disguised code.
"Let's move out then. V-9, you take up the rear and everyone keep your eyes open - the Imps may have landed a squad already, not to mention whatever slimy scumsuckers actually live in this place." Veeta starts picking her way through the undergrowth in the direction of the coordinates, constantly scanning the surroundings for any sign of trouble.
"Alright then. Guess it's time to start slogging through this mess," Veeta says, hefting her carbine in a one-handed grip.
"Any volunteers?"
"we better get moving, though. Has anyone downloaded the coordinates from that droid? I'd like to know how long a hike we're looking at."
"Is there anyway to camouflage the ship while we're away?" Veeta asks as she starts gathering her gear. "I'd hate to go off on this scavenger hunt and find our transport has been blasted from orbit. This swamp doesn't look like the kind of place you'd want to spend an extended vacation."
"I'll, uh, get right on it," Veeta says, waiting til Dance looks away before frantically punching buttons and dials, finally banging on the interface with her fists. "Er, I think that worked," Veeta says, in near shock as the display indicates a clear boost in shield power.
"Palpatine's wrinkled ass!" Veeta growls, pounding on the targeting display as she watches another pair of missiles fly off in the wrong direction. "Dance, either this damn computer is broken or that Jedi's putting everything on the fritz. I'd be better off opening up the aft hatch and throwing empty mess kits at those fighters."
Veeta drops into the seat next to Dance and starts scanning the controls.
concussion missile launcher. ;)
Veeta curses loudly as she becomes tangled in a loose flap of cargo netting on her way to the bridge. "Bantha balls! V-9 - grab that other turret while I help Dance!"
"That what you have in the little bag, then? I've seen General Sky... well, they seem pretty effective, if you can get close enough." "Glad to hear that you're armed, at least," Veeta says, then grimaces. "I was worried you were some sort of diplomat." "What exactly are your, uh, talents, by the way?" she asks, her apprehension easing as she steers the conversation turns more familiar, tactical matters. "I probably mentioned it back there, but I know my way around a firefight and I'm comfortable taking point, rear-guard or vanguard, whatever suits the rest of you. I've piloted most of the starfighters used by the Rebellion and a few transports, spent time as a commando and can patch blaster burns - although if we run into a Wookiee, you're on your own. My med-kits no good with severed limbs."
"Huh? I thought Vader killed off all the Jedi except Lu... er, the new Emperor," Veeta says, peering at the blind man with a mix of curiosity and caution. "I thought the only other Force users were Dark Siders and amateurs." "I remember there was an old mid-wife on my homeworld who claimed to use the Force for healing, but she wasn't a Jedi. My brother used to have these, uh, visions, and could make spanners float around or flip switches back, but he never had any formal training, either."
"Does everyone have survival gear?" Veeta asks, hefting her own bag. "We could probably use some extra firepower, too. Any Imperials we run into aren't likely to be inspectors." "Oh, and — Shotgun!"
"Well, we better hope he wrote it down in his diary whenever he had one of those hocus-pocus hunches."
"So the Emperor knows about this planet? And we're going to waltz in an go through the garbage looking for some dead Jedi Master's comlink directory?" Veeta grins wolfishly. "Sounds like fun."
"Sounds like a good place to hide," Veeta says. "How'd the droid scope the Jedi camping out there? If the Empire had found it, they'd have torched the place from orbit if they thought a Jedi was even in the sector."
"Never heard of it," Veeta says. "Must be pretty backwater - I assume it's somewhere on the Rim? Hopefully far away from Imperial space." "We'll need to be careful about our transportation," she adds. "If the Imperials catch wind of this, or we're flying a hot ship they can connect to the Rebellion, they'll just follow us right to the wizard ... er, Jedi."
"If we're all here, let's start talking objectives," Veeta says. "I assume we'll be engaging Imperial targets, or is there something else going on, your Highness?"
"Glad to hear it, ma'am," Senn says, turning to salute Major Dance. "Welcome aboard, Major. I've been on the other side of a few of your offensives, so it's good to have you on our team."
"Just the three of us? I thought I saw a Jawa skittering around earlier?"
"Staff Sergeant Veeta Senn, ready as ever, ma'am," she says, then scans the remaining faces in the room appraisingly.
** spoiler omitted ** Senn jumps in her seat as she recognizes the dark-haired man leaning against the wall next to her. "Oh! I, um ... absolutely, General, sir! I didn't realize I ... I mean ..."Senn takes a deep breath, snaps the power pack back into her carbine, then says: "Hutts just set my teeth on edge, sir. I'm sure General Organa knows what's she's doing. I'm just anxious to hear how I fit into it." With a flick of her chin, she gestures to the others assembled in the room. "Who are these people, anyway? Not all of them are Rebels."
Veeta Senn has put on her best "disinterested grunt" face, but she's not sure how successful she is at disguising her unease. The greasy smell of Hutt has raised a number of unpleasant memories. Unable to get a straight answer about the purpose of this meeting, she's resigned herself to something unpleasant. Sure, the rebellion's in dire straits these days, but allying with the Hutts? What's next - will the rebels hire a bunch of Trandoshans as computer technicians, or a tribe of Jawas to provide a security detail? Senn busies herself by field-stripping her carbine. She could complete the task in her sleep, but pretends (probably poorly) to peer carefully at its inner workings, examining the focusing crystal for flaws even though she replaced it less than a week ago. If things go south at this meeting, she might have a chance to break it in on some Hutt hide ... but that's probably wishful thinking.
Tribeof1 here. I've got my stats and background posted in the profile for this alias - give it a looksee and let me know if everything works. |