Hett is in the middle of pouring out the drinks, when he glances up. "Yoda's teeth and toenails, but this day just keeps getting better and better. I don't want any trouble in this cantina, son. You got it? You best be able to handle your fizz. You get drunk, pull a blaster and start shootin' up the place, and I call in the big guns."
He points one thick, sausage-like finger over to the crowd in the corner.
"See thems? Three of 'em are JEDI. The whitey is some kinna merc, I think. And the Human, I dunno what he is, but he has the walk of a military man. So ease back on the throttle."
Once all the Depth Charges are on the table, he grins slyly and lowers his voice.
"Matter of fact, if you have any skill with a blaster at all, you might wanna speak with 'em anyway. You sound like you rather suddenly--and violently--lost your job. They've got work here, and it sounds like they could use all the help they can get."
A chair clatters to the ground. In a flash of billowing leather Lnejee is across the room with his blaster drawn. Through gritted teeth the Duros utters, "I give people one chance. Use that or any other slang for the color of my skin again and I'll burn a hole through your skull."
The slight shake of Stazi's hand shows he's already holding the trigger down. if the gun wasn't on safety he would have shot already. Slowly he lowers the weapon and snaps at the bartender, "Like the Kel Dor suggested already. Keep your mouth shut."
Hey! Whoa!" Hett narrows his eyes, his hands raised. "You're going to want to calm down, boy."
Once the gun is out of his face, he reaches under the bar and draws out a rifle of his own. An antique, but he handles it well enough. He doesn't point it at anybody, but he lays it on the bar.
"Son, if you want to keep drinking in my establishment, we're going to have to lay down a few ground rules. Now, first of all, I'm truly sorry fer callin' you an offensive name. I didn't know, and I 'pologize. But if a bit o' name callin' is goan' make you stand up and wave a loaded blaster in a man's face, you need to check into a less stressful line 'o work."
Hett narrows his eyes more, deadly serious.
"Second. DO NOT give me orders in MY thrice-damned cantina. You're welcome to keep drinkin' here long as you keep things civil, but if you slap leather like that again, the closest cantina is in a town about a day's trip away, and it's a thirsty trip."
Lnejee glares back, "Old man, that was not an order. It was a threat. I've trained for years to back it up. My profession just happens to coincide with shooting people." The white duros walks back to his chair and rights it with an armored foot. "I'll make the name Lnejee Stazi known in the galaxy. So no one will push me a second time only to be shot."
Kol froze when the guns were drawn, the third shot halfway to his lips.
Resisting the impulse to dive under a table, he waits until the duros goes back to his seat before lowering his shot back to the bar untasted. He blows his breath out in quiet relief at avoiding a crossfire.
"Man, that boy's got good ears." Kol muttered under his breath.
Turning towards the party in the booth, Kol considered carefully approaching. But Jedi? Kol almost left right then; but, the thought of going back to work under that pint sized tyrant of a shuttle captain... He shook his head, banishing the thought.
Picking up the last two depth charges, he walked across to the party at the booth and set them down in front of the duros.
"Hi. Everyone in the bar took a vote; You need these more than I do."
After observing the interaction with the Duros and the bartender, Sho steels himself to set some parameters with the gunslinger, "Look Lnejee, is it? We aren't here to start trouble. In fact, we are peace keepers and would have backed the bartender up should things have turned ugly back there. If you can't agree to turn the hostility down, then we have to part ways now. Do you understand what I am asking here friend?"
Sho welcomes the newcomer and is amused at his introductory exchange.
"I am known as Sho Larn. You are welcome to join us if you wish. What brings you to this place?" asks Sho, cordially welcoming the new arrival.
"Yeah? Thanks."
Kol sits carefully at the table. "Long story short, the barkeep mentioned you were lookin' for some extra hands. As it happens, I'm looking fer work. Something that doesn't involve taking orders from a boss who acts like a Sith lord. I'm handy with a blaster or a toolkit, but I'm a better pilot than either."
After accepting the drinks Lnejee knocks one back. "I am sorry for the outburst. Comments about the colour of my skin are not taken lightly. Imagine Sho Larn if you lived your whole life as the only turquoise Kel Dor. While the majority of racism is dead in our galaxy it is still ok to make the unique and unusual individual." He drinks the second shot, grimacing. "As I am not very good at defending myself with words, I learned to use a blaster."
After accepting the drinks Lnejee knocks one back. "I am sorry for the outburst. Comments about the colour of my skin are not taken lightly. Imagine Sho Larn if you lived your whole life as the only turquoise Kel Dor. While the majority of racism is dead in our galaxy it is still ok to make the unique and unusual individual." He drinks the second shot, grimacing. "As I am not very good at defending myself with words, I learned to use a blaster."
"I understand your pain but often we are all subjected to life's indignities. How we react to them speak of our character or lack thereof. For the Jedi, anger leads to hate and hate leads to the dark side. For you, I can assure you that you will reap what you sow. Consider that the next time you are provoked. Rest assured as well that if you befriend us, then you will have defenders of not only your life but your quality of life as well." offers Sho stoically.
Elek looks around at the others at the table. "If we will be working together I suppose we should learn what each of us does well before we get into any tight situations. I have made the lightsaber the focus of my training, so if we are unable to resolve something with words I will do my best to ensure the fighting ends quickly."
"Mostly I smash things," the Wookie growls in a low voice, somewhat ironically.
"I have spent most of my time honing my reflexes, too get in the first shot. The Kobok are rather fond of swoop bike racing and it became a favorite hobby of mine. So I am no stranger to quick reaction times and piloting. I also spent much time studying under a Kobok warshaman in the ways of tactics," elaborates Lnejee.
Kol looked at the duros, leaning back in his chair.
"Swoop bike racing? Heh, me too! You ever race the Corellian circuit?"
_
"I have spent most of my time honing my reflexes, too get in the first shot. The Kobok are rather fond of swoop bike racing and it became a favorite hobby of mine. So I am no stranger to quick reaction times and piloting. I also spent much time studying under a Kobok warshaman in the ways of tactics," elaborates Lnejee.
The Wookie nods his head. "My Master would say: Fear not the warrior who fires first; fear he who fires last. I have found that a quick and effective attack is the best defense. But then, I have patience to learn."
Amon takes a drink before speaking, "My primary training is in negotiation and diplomacy. You would be surprised how many battles start because someone does not know how to express themselves productively. My combat training is in group tactics and battle coordination; mostly enabling a small squad to perform better and more efficiently." Amon smiles, "So don't take it personally if I happen to bark out some orders while we are fighting. It's just my way of saying I care."
Listening to Amon, Sho is pleased, [b]"A clear head and a quick wit will certainly serve us well. In my opinion, the best fight is the one not fought. I look forward to journeying with you my friend."[b]
The Wookie nods his head. "My Master would say: Fear not the warrior who fires first; fear he who fires last. I have found that a quick and effective attack is the best defense. But then, I have patience to learn."
"I have spent most of my time honing my reflexes, too get in the first shot. The Kobok are rather fond of swoop bike racing and it became a favorite hobby of mine. So I am no stranger to quick reaction times and piloting. I also spent much time studying under a Kobok warshaman in the ways of tactics," elaborates Lnejee.
Sho chuckles (although it sounds more like static through the breathing device), "Having served under a Wookiee Master, I have to say I view it similarly. I can still hear him growling his warning, Strike first. Strike fast. Strike hard."
Kol considers carefully, his mind not neccessarily on the business at hand.
"Y'know, if yer any good on a swoop bike, we might be able to make some credits on this backwater mudball."
He turns and shouts at the bartender.
"Hey barkeep! You got a swoop racetrack around here?"
Hett pulls a long face. "Not anywhere in the steppes we don't. I hear there's some tracks in the Taikaha Hills, if you're ever out that way. We're a planet of farmers. It doesn't get much too exciting out here, I'm afraid."
"I am a fairly skilled pilot. Enough so that I will not crash into the first tree I pass. That would be something for another time though when there are not pressing concerns of banditry," says Lnejee. He stands to his feet and returns to his bar stool. "Something to eat, please. Cantina special if it is fresh."
The duros turns his back to the bar and speaks to the Jedi again, "I will consider you my employers and defer to your lead. I regret I am no investigator."
"We should find out exactly what has been stolen. We may be able to deduce numbers of consumers if we know when and and how much was stolen from each shipment."
Amon finishes nursing his Alderaanian sweet vermouth, turning the glass upside down on the table. He stands slowly, brushes off his fatigues, and stretches. "Well, gentlemen, I am off to see what I can see and hear what I can hear. I will return and report." With that, the human walks out of the cantina with a surprisingly steady gait considering his recent alcohol consumption.
Amon will discuss the recent banditry with townfolk.
Gather Information check 1d20+9.
Pay 50cr for bribes as detailed in rulebook.
Understanding that subtle attempts to get informaton are not his strong suit, Sho works to assist Amon in gathering information. He scours the holonet, asks around for tips, and visits security agents to see what he can find.
Aid Amon on his Gather Information check:
It takes several hours of walking around in the crisp mid-afternoon sun, and by the time dusk is approaching and the light is fading, turning the sky a dusky shade of royal amethyst, Amon and Sho have managed to put their heads together and come up with some rather cohesive information.
The people around Brhoomihg are scared, and rightly so. While many of the thefts have been just that--simple thefts--there have been a handful of coordinated, lethal attacks on supply ships as they head towards the spaceports in other towns. A Sullustan merchant from Migoonda relates the tale of an early attempt by the militia of that farming community to defend their food stores that ended disastrously when they were flanked on two fronts by bandits wearing masks and carrying varieties of blasters. They loaded every scrap of food in the storage building onto four land speeders and raced away in separate directions. Only a handful of militiamen survived the encounter, and those that did said that the bandits looted the corpses of the fallen and took valuables and weapons this time.
It is difficult to compile a definite list of everything that's been stolen. Obviously, it is predominately food, but it seems that while the bandits do not attack anything specifically for valuables and credits, they do steal whatever happens to cross their path. In addition to several tons of both preserved and unpreserved food, this includes jewelry, blasters, antique swords, credit chips and expensive clothes.
"Not empty, my friend. Filled with Jedi. We would not blend in well. We are... conspicuous."
"Have we learned anything of their numbers? Their tactics? It may aid us in setting up an ambush to know these things." Elek thinks for a moment. "If we simply start a firefight when the bandits show then we run the risk of not learning where they come from and if they have a base set up then we will want to learn it's location."
After you spend the afternoon and evening gathering information and return to the Chipper Kinrath, Hett greets you at the door and informs you that he has had his spare rooms cleaned, showing you to a sort of shared bunkroom. It's nothing special--a handful of cots in a circular chamber gathered around a heat generator in the center of the floor--but it's clean and comfortable.
The next morning, a landspeeder convoy races from the southeast and enters the city gates. A throng of people gathers around it as the door on the lead speeder opens, and a tall, red-skinned Twi'lek woman steps out. She is covered in slender, corded muscle, and wears tight-fitting leather spacer's clothes that mold well to her shapely, athletic body. A vibrodagger is sheathed at the small of her back, half-hidden by her black vest, and a heavy blaster rests in a holster on her left thigh. Her face is handsome, hardened perhaps by combat, and pecked here and there with scars, the largest of which lances through the empty socket of her right eye, which is covered by a dun-colored patch.
Once the party awakens, Hett has breakfast laid out on the bar.
"Mornin', gentlemen," he says briskly. "I thought you might want to hear that Captain Va'naa came in early this mornin', if you'd like to talk with her."
Elek moves up to the Twi'lek "Captain Va'naa?"
Sho, accustomed to taking his nourishment through a straw due to his respiratory equipment, refrains from eating with the others.
Nodding to Hett, Sho responds to his query, "Yes, I would greatly like to meet with the Captain. Let us know when she is available."
Hett pulls at his shaggy beared, chewing on his lip. "It looks like the Human Jedi took off to talk to her already. I think they're still out in the main yard of the trading post."
Va'naa pauses in her crisp journey from her landspeeder to the administration building. She gives the Jedi a coolly appraising glance and crosses her arms. "Yes? What do you need?"
Lnejee Stazi sleeps restlessly through the night. Being in the same room with a bunch of strangers has him on edge. In the morning he's a bit groggy, quickly moving to the bar for the hair of the sarlac that bit him.
When he sees the young Jedi Elek leave the bar he follows suit. A kid like that, even a Padawan shouldn't be off on his own. When the leather clad twi'lek speaks to him the Duros steps up at his side, but remains silent.
"Hello Captain, my name is Elek. I am part of a group investigating the recent banditry. We would like to know if you could share with us anything you know about them."
Sho exits the cantina as well, apparently following both Elek and Lnejee. When he sees the captain engaged with his fellow Jedi, he allows the conversation to continue uninterrupted. He tries to be as non-hostile as possible so that the captain doesn't feel confronted or defensive.
The captain's good eye glances down to Elek's hip, noting the lightsaber he bears so proudly. She glances at Lnejee at one side, and Sho on the other and nods.
"So the Jedi sent some help, did they? Excellent. We're going to have enough problems feeding the people without more folk getting killed. With a couple Jedi on the job, I think I can breathe a little easier."
She turns and points to the domed administration building. The door opens, and a black and silver protocol droid teeters unsteadily out to join her.
"This is L-60G, my protocol droid," she says crisply. "I need perhaps five, ten minutes to fill out some paperwork regarding some of the weapons I picked up, then he will summon you to my offices. If you brought anymore friends with you, bring them as well please."
Va'naa salutes smartly and turns to walk away, her boots clicking sharply on the street as she makes her way for the door. The droid beeps, warbles, then speaks in a tinny, over-polite voice.
"Good day, masters. As my Mistress has said, she will be available shortly. Please gather your entourage and return here as swiftly as possible."
Amon emerges from the cantina looking like a completely different man. Gone are the whiskers and blood-shot eyes of the vermouth-drunkard of the past few days, replaced by steely confidence and a straight-backed stride. His military fatigues are pressed and his boots reflect every source of light. He stops near the group and adjusts his cap. He smiles at his companions, "Was that our mystery law enforcement officer? I like the looks of her. Though I'm all for protecting due process, there's something about quick and dirty vigilantism that stirs the blood. Let's follow this tin can inside."
Sho gives Amon a studied look and asks jovially, "Who are you and what have you done with Amon?"
Amon smiles and gives a small flourishing bow, "He is here and I am him. It is amazing what some attention to grooming and hygiene can accomplish after an alcoholic torpor."
"Well I like the new you. Let's go get the others and prepare for our briefing from the local constable."
"Hmph," grunts Lnejee. "Someone should check on the Wookie and spacer."
He head's back inside and calls, "Dycabaska! Kol! Captain Va'naa is here, let's go."
THe Wookie emerges, tired and blinking at the sun. "I hate morning. Silly time of day."
Kol returns to the tavern from the spaceport where he had a berth; at least until his suspension. He was wearing somewhat rumpled civilian attire and what looked like an old and familiar sour look on his face. He looked a little uncomfortable out of a uniform; like he had an itch he couldn't scratch.
Seeing the others trooping toward the admin building, he joins the crowd.
Captain Va'naa's office is Spartanly appointed, consisting of little more than a desk and a handful of chairs. A screen full of various documents rolls down and folds into the desk as you are escorted inside by L-60G, and the one-eyed Twi'lek steeples her fingers together and watches each one of you in turn.
"I'm going to assume you already know the basics," she says in a no-nonsense tone of voice. One hand idly brushes a scarred lekku over her shoulder. "Bandits. Stealing food. Well, it's gotten a little more complicated than that in the last day or so."
Rising to her feet, Va'naa begins to pace before the large window behind her desk.
"A very earnest and courageous and naive young mechanic in Kybori decided he would try and place a home-made tracking device on one of the bandits' transports, and managed to successfully do so last time they attacked. He activated it yesterday for me, and although it was almost immediately found and destroyed, we know where they are."
She presses another button on her desk. Those in the party with datapads are asked to accept an upload--should they agree, they find themselves looking at a topographical map with a single red dot on it.
"Two-hundred and fifty kilometers to the northwest, in the middle of the Steppes," Va'naa goes on. "We know where they are, and they know that we know. If you're going, I suggest speed, before they have a chance to pick up their operation and move it elsewhere. Or..."
She pauses, looking much less sure of herself.
"Or possibly attack Kybori in retaliation."