Balance of Power-Stirrings (IC)

[Callos_DeTerran]

Vivid star lines fade back to the inky blackness of space, individual stars becoming visible once more as the Khil cross-system shuttle drops out of hyperspace above the former swamp planet Belnar. From the shuttle's main view port, a massive opening above the passenger's main room, the planet looks like a brown and forest green ball that has been touched here and there with large cloud banks that travel sluggishly across the planet. Two large rings crisscross over the planet's atmosphere, forming a massive X that would ensure that the sky below would always have some glimpse of the dual-rings of asteroids that circle Belnar. Here and there one could see the break in that dreary pattern where Khil cities were likely to be, probably the same immaculate white they had painted the interior of the shuttle. It definitely soothed the eyes but it also brings to mind uncomfortable similarities with a medical bay. The accommodations had been sparse but comfortable enough, allowing yourselves and the other passengers to relax during the short jumps to Belnar, the large common area being sealed off from the cockpit to prevent trouble with unruly passengers who were left to their own devices during the voyage.

Out here in colony space there never seemed to be too much traffic unless the colony in question had a large market of some rare good or had managed to construct large enough cities to invite crimelords to take root in them. Belnar managed the later, but few reports had ever come out of there being major crime on the planet's surface seeing how most of the interest in Belnar was mostly of the xenobiology sort which saw little money. That had changed when news of the distress transmission had begun to spread in the closest sectors to the planet, but the Republic had moved swiftly to institute a quarantine of Belnar until they could investigate the matter at hand but the simple fact is there are bigger problems, and closer to home, then one disparate colony so official help doesn't seem likely to come soon. In light of that people were able to request papers to allow them access down to the planet below, as long as they submitted to thorough scans and checks upon leaving the planet.

"We are nearing the planet's surface. All passengers gather their belongings for departure." The melodious voice that echoes through out the passenger quarters was likely that of the Khil pilot who was accepting the dubious pay of transporting people into the quarantine zone. As the first shuttle of passengers into the quarintine zone there was a lot of anxiety and pressure on the crew of the shuttle. What would they find upon landing? Would they make it back out alive?

There was even more worry for the Khil pilot, who had many expectation to make sure that everything went off without a hitch. A crisis now would ensure that the Republic would lock down all access to the Khil colony-world, even after they had conceded to the demands to allow independent agents to investigate.

[Belial_the_Leveler]

Black robes were not a rare sight, especially in backwater worlds where more often than not people went their own way in silence and criminals got together in clandestine business. No, what was truly unusual about the girl in the aftside left corner of the passenger's compartment was the fact that she was a girl-and that her robes were of high quality. After all, how often did one see a well-dressed young woman traveling unarmed side-by-side with criminals and misfits?

Astraea smiled. Some less-than-lawful passengers during the trip had made that mistake. A few might have even tried to make a scene but a glance from a pair of burning-red eyes which, strangely enough, only they had seen, had sufficed to dissuade would-be... suitors. For the innocent-looking foot-long cylinder in the girl's hand wasn't Astraea's first and only weapon.

As the pilot announced the descent, the girl simply tucked her long black hair in her robe and covered herself with a heavy, all-weather black cloak. The cloth was a bit long for her but unfortunately, nothing could be done about it. Apparently, the Force could unite all living things and move the Galaxy and its mortal wielders could employ it to lift entire starships and predict the future but adding a few inches to Astraea's height so she'd at least reach the human average or shortening the baggy cloak so it would actually fit was beyond the powers of Jedi and Sith both. Or so Astraea had been told.

Having no posessions she did not already carry, the young woman just waited for the ship to land. The Force had led her to Belnar, its tug no more than a vague feeling still, and had kept her safe so far but things could change. The slim form under the black robes raised her shoulders in a shrug. The Force was her weapon and her shield. If that did not suffice, nothing would so why worry about things she could not change?

[Zefiri]

If there was one thing Gyurr knew how to do well, it was mixing in with questionable crowds. As an undercity bartender turned Exchange thug turned Republic Intelligence officer, Gyurr has had first hand experience with both sides of the legal system. Still, Gyurr feels more comfortable mixing in with the less lawful not because he does not view law as important but simply because talking to a stick-up-the-ass officer about quality juma can get quite one sided. Sure, Republic soldiers and officers go for drinks but few ever really seem to take the time to look at the little things. Gyurr often muses that his ability to notice small details is what allows him to excel in the various aspects of his job.

He knows he should look around the shuttle for any of the people he was supposed to meet but he feels for now the conversation he's having with the Rodian man next to him about various house specialty mixes at various popular Coruscant cantinas gives him enough of an excuse to relax a little. Of course, he's not letting his guard down especially given the kind of people on the shuttle. He's scanned through the people in the cabin already the minute he was on board.

As landing is announced, he straightens up in his seat. A strange sensation flows through him that moment and he notices a girl in the back. The cloak she wears appears to be of high quality but once he notices her eye colour, he quickly looks away. After all, there's no need to invite trouble.

[Levyathyn]

The ship lurched out of hyperspace, signifying an arrival at Belnar. Vaer woke almost immediately and stood, stretching his muscles out from the brief sleep. He keyed the room door open, warily checking left and right for enemies before stepping into the fresher across the hallway. He sealed the door up and ran cool water out of the purifier unit in the wall. He splashed the water on his face, savoring the rest he had gotten. As he stepped back into his room, he heard a voice filtering into the room, in both Khilese and Basic, announcing the imminent departure onto the surface. With a slight nod, Vaer grabs his gray flight jacket and puts it on. He folds the bed back up into the wall, revealing a large footlocker underneath it. He keys in the code and pulls out his assault blaster rifle, checking it for wear or damage that may have been caused in flight. He puts on a bandoleer of power packs and slings the weapon on, satisfied, and closes the footlocker, resetting the code as he does so.

He spent the time onboard the ship attempting to track down the members of the team he was assigned to meet. He spent much of his time casually watching some of the people he suspected, including a few individuals with no official reason for being on board. He suspected two of them to be Czerka, but he doubted they were they for him. Only one of the people he found did he recognize, and on that one he wasn't sure. Vaer decided to give it time. He had gotten little sleep, but that had never bothered him.

Before he leaves the room, he takes time to place three knives into concealed places in his clothes. One knife goes on each wrist, hidden under his jacket, and a third he hides in the top of his right boot. He hefts his utility belt, filled with anything he might need, and slings on a backpack of survival equipment. Ready, he seals up the room and makes his way down the corridor to the embarcation area. When he gets there, he hangs back and watches the crowd for signs of someone familiar. He detects no threats, so he walks in and tries his best to blend in.

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Stealth checks to hide the knives.
Conceal - (1d20+12)[21] Left
Conceal - (1d20+12)[30] Right
Conceal - (1d20+12)[20] Boot

[Forum Explorer]

Kadio left his room and locked the door. Looking around and not seeing anyone he decided to listen to the message he recived one more time. Alright so I'm supposed to help someone named Gyurr, I wonder how I'm going to find him. This description they gave me was a little vague. Kadio thought to himself as he adjusted the pack on his back to make it more comfortable.

After wandering for a little while trying to find a man who matched the description given to him, Kadio decided to take a break and found a observation window so he could see the planet he was about to land on. While he was relaxing he took his rifle off his back and began to clean it along with it's scope.

[Belial_the_Leveler]

Astraea had not been patient in her earlier years and sometimes that impatience resurfaced. Tapping a foot idly and waiting for the vessel to dock, the young woman searches for something to intrigue or amuse her.

The air smelled of trouble and strife and inhaling deeply, Astraea takes in those emotions that fuel the Force in everyone. The Jedi and Sith are wrong, she muses. Ashla, the light side, grew strong in compassion, hope, contentment and serenity. Bogan, the dark side, was empowered by hatred, fear, envy and anger. But both needed emotions to flourish. And in a packed place like this emotions abounded. What would happen though if a spark was placed thus to ignite a fire? Bored, Astraea decides to find out. Looking across the vessel's hold, she searches especially for those individuals both armed and unhappy to be there.

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perception - (1d20+11)[10](21)
Searching for anyone bearing blasters, grenades and the like.

[Caewil]

Navira stares out through a viewport, at the planet below, as the shuttle descends through the stratosphere. From space, the world looks at peace. All of them did, in Navira's experience. He remembers a conversation shared with his sister, long ago, about how the glare of Mandalorian SAM and artillery fire would make Dxun shimmer like a corusca gem catching the light from the month-long nocturnal battles carried out.

He draws his thoughts away from that cold and bitter place within himself. Seeking distraction, he unconsciously expands his sphere of consciousness to fill the ship's narrow confines. Thoughts drift across his mind like ripples on a pond. Most of them are the everyday concerns of ordinary beings. Some felt annoyance at the delay, some pain and some fear. But somewhere else on the ship, he can sense someone else searching.

Navira looks away from the clouds below. Pulling down the hood of his frayed cloak, he brushes a few tangled strands of mousy hair away from his brow. Concealing his thoughts, he slouches and attempts to physically blend into his surroundings. If another Jedi was aboard, then that was none of his business, but a Sith... His hands clench involuntarily.

"There is no emotion, there is peace," he recites to himself sarcastically. Then he attempts to detect the cause of the disturbance in the Force.

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Dark side Sense:(1d20+16)[34] and (1d20+16)[31].

Rolling the second if the first result is less than 25, to sense Astrea. (she does have Dark Side Points, I assume)

Conceal presence: (1d20+16)[18] to conceal myself from Astrea.

[Belial_the_Leveler]

Astraea's search for the best spot to cause some mischief is disrupted by a tiny disturbance in the force. Such things happened all the time-a death here, lasting suffering there... or the presence of other force-sensitives. Frowning, the girl scans her surroundings, trying to find the source.

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Reactive roll to escape detection (automatic, right?)
UTF - (1d20+17)[7](24)
Roll to sense if the source of the disturbance is another force-user.
UTF - (1d20+17)[12](29)
If I'm doing this wrong, please inform. If we succeed in detection eachother, we both know we've met before, right?
BTW, Astraea has a full dark side meter so she counts as fully Dark.

Sensing a strangely familiar presence, Astraea frowns. Most force-wielders she'd come to know in her past were either dangerously stupid or exceedingly dangerous. She fingers her lightsaber, debating wether she should investigate or wait for that familiar presence to present itself.

[Zefiri]

'Perhaps it was a bad idea to actually DRINK juma,' thought Gyurr as the Rodian to started talking really loudly about how much he hated Quarren, drawing stares from many in the room.

The Rodian, Oree, had decided to share juma he had brought along with Gyuurr so that Gyurr could apparently 'sample other juma than just the low quality stuff found in Coruscant's cantinas', a comment Gyurr took some offense at but easily shrugged it off. After all free juma was what he'd be getting. Of course, they attracted others who were interested in the juma more than the company.

Soon another 5 people had joined them. Oree had taken 5 bottles of juma from his room and the group had started drinking noisily in the corner while chatting.

However, Gyurr now realised that Oree can't hold his liquor and Oree's extremely loud and offensive manner of speech were drawing stares. The others in the group pretended they were fine or perhaps, Gyurr thought, they were completely fine with it. Either way, Oree was obviously annoying some others in the common area.

Gyurr was uncomfortable with the situation. From experience as a barkeeper, this would not end well. He excused himself to go to his room for awhile but had to promise Oree he'd be back later. Hopefully no one would cause the proverbial spark that would set off this fire because Oree looked like he actually knew how to use that vibrosword at his hip.

[Caewil]

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Our characters were barely acquainted. They may have a sense of deja vu, but I don't think they knew one another well enough to be familiar with the other's specific presence. Maybe if Navira was in the grip of a strong emotion of the same kind that he felt when our master died? Strong fear and anger would work.

So, for role playing purposes, how about they both feel some familiarity (each harboring their own suspicions) but stay recognition until one of them becomes obviously familiar.

I suggest that you roll UtF again, on the next DSP he gains to see if Astrea can recognize him fully, since Navira would be in the same state of mind as when Astrea last sensed him stongly. That would add some extra drama. Does this seem acceptable?

[Belial_the_Leveler]

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No problem.

[Caewil]

The presence Navira senses is familiar - and dark. Trying to figure out which individual Sith it was, out of the many he had met, was pointless. Looking around, with his eyes this time, he searches for anyone conspicuously dressed.

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Eg: Someone in a black cape, with glowing yellow eyes. That would be a dead giveaway for a Sith, methinks.

Perception: (1d20+11)[22]