Dawn of Defiance [Star Wars SAGA] [IC Thread]

[Kaymeera]

STAR WARS: DAWN OF DEFIANCE
Episode I
THE TRAITOR’S GAMBIT

It is a dark time in the galaxy. The evil Galactic Empire has
spread from the Deep Core to the Outer Rim, and everywhere the
Empire’s tyranny can be felt.

Fleeing from the oppression of the Emperor’s minions, agents of Senator
Bail Organa have run to a remote space station above Brentaal. Known to be a
vocal opponent of the Empire, Organa may be the last hope of freedom in the galaxy.

In the hopes of stopping these dissidents before they can reach the Senator, the Empire
has alerted its forces on Sel Zonn Station, where the struggle for liberty rages on, and the first
sparks of rebellion have begun to burn. . . .

Your travels have taken you far and wide, whether you were seeking adventure, wealth or knowledge. Today, your destiny drives you to Sel Zonn Station, a lone space station in orbit around the commercial intersection of a planet known as Brentaal IV. Perhaps it was the scoundrel's nose for trouble, the nag of weary feet, or perhaps mere fate and the calling of heroes which drove you here. Nevertheless, your transport nears the station.

Seemingly motionless among a sea of starships and satellites above the twinkling world of Brentaal, Sel Zonn Station grows larger in your view every second. A central pylon forms the bulk of the station’s mass, and three landing platforms leading to docking bays extend from the central section, equidistant from one another and jutting out into space. The dorsal side of the station features a discshaped secondary structure, on top of which blinking lights indicate the presence of a landing platform reserved for wealthy patrons.

DM note:
You are all on board the similar public transports, who have all, by chance, landed in the same docking bay, relatively simultaneously. Take the time to describe your characters, their intents, take a look around, and maybe make a few friends.

I'm not going to start the actual game events till everyone has checked in.

Recruitment Thread
OOC Thread

[Sicarius]

Mara Deltear

A figure steps off of one of the transports. Quickly, she moves off to the side to avoid the throng of people rushing out. Quickly, she makes a few quick entries into her datapad, then puts it away and exhales a sigh.

"Well, that shipment is done," she says to herself.

For a female Human, she is quite tall, standing just shy of 1.8 meters (that's just short of 5' 10"). Her hair is blond and shoulder length that flows in waves, resting on her blue and black clothing. Her garb appears to have fashion and functionality both in mind, and anyone looking at her would scream 'Corporate' as opposed to 'Wealthy.' Her only jewelry appears to be a set of small earrings and one bracelet, very subdued. On her hip rests a blaster pistol, not even bothering to be hidden. Her clothes, including her shoes, are well-taken care of.

She moves onward, trying to find out the current prices of commodities to see what she should pick up here. Buy low, sell high. It was the only way to make a profit.

[Jensik]

Palinitilima-turkiva

Being unable to hold still for the last few minutes, a small furry sentient, barely a meter high, stands shifting his weight back and forth while the final checks are made. He has orange/red fur, large dark yellow eyes, and rabbit like ears that are perked up and twitching in excitement.

"Open... open, open, open, open, open, open, open, oh come ON!"

When the door finally opens enough to let him through, he runs out onto the platform. He has a rather large backpack on, filled with who knows what, a full utility belt, and a small sporting rifle slung over his shoulder. One would think these things would weigh him down, yet he moves as if they weren't even there. He runs about the area, inspecting anything he can find, jumping when needed to get a better view of things taller than he, and occasionally skipping from one place to another. All the while he is talking, or rather yelling, to himself.

"WOO! Sel Zonn Station, baby. YEAH! This place is amazing. It's like a ship, but not a ship because it doesn't really go anywhere. Or maybe it does but we just don't notice. I wonder what kind of food they got here. I hope they don't have bug food... or food that looks like bugs... or worse; food for bugs. Actually... that'd be pretty neat. WOW! That guy is TALL!"

[Rafe]

Brek

The hulking, charcoal-skinned humanoid waits and watches as the others disembark from the transport before rising to his feet. Hands that have two large fingers and a thumb flex, and the man (creature?) cracks his neck and works the stiffness from his legs. In his bi-digit hands is a heavy-looking, 1.5-meter long object, wrapped in canv-cloth and bound loosely with toss-away plasbands. With this under his large arms, he stoops under the frame of the hatch and steps heavily down onto the platform of the station.

His small, dull orange eyes scan the area. Seeing nothing immediately untoward, he leans up against a pile of heavy crates, stretching his muscles where he can keep his back to something solid.

Onlookers would be wary of this brute for he seems just that: standing nearly 2 meters tall and weighting close to 100 kilograms, the dark- and thick-skinned creature has a nasty look about him. His small eyes are imbedded in thick folds of his face, he has no nose to speak of and his mouth seems as though it'd be more at home on a lamprey. His form is solid; there is no delicacy there. A dark grey combat jumpsuit, battered and worn, covers his thick body. At his belt is a blaster, and a strange sword is semi-concealed at the back of his belt behind the moving folds of his black all-temperature cloak. When he moves his cloth-wrapped 'bundle' casually onto one shoulder, another blaster pistol is visible under his arm.

Brek eyes the small creature nearby. Its words come so quickly it is difficult for the man to pay attention to anything else. When its words "Wow, that guy is tall!" ring out, his beady eyes narrow and snap back to the small being. Ah, not talking about me... I don't think...

The creature considered what had brought him here. He was sorry to have parted ways with Sarn, but truly, he could not ignore this era's situation any longer. While it was not his time, it had adopted him and now he had to choose. Knowledge of the death of the Jedi Order still phased the man greatly, as did the collapse of the Old Republic. Still... the question remained: fight, or ignore all that had happened?

Brek shook his head and smiled, a gruesome gesture given his facial structure. He had never been one to ignore a call to action.

Spoiler

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OOC: Calling dibs on DarkSlateGray.

Also, it is very unlikely that any of you will have seen a being who looks like Brek does. He does not seem to be a recognizable species.

[Attilargh]

Arel

A dark-haired Zabrak stretches high as he steps out of a transport and yawns a bit to adjust to the different air pressure. He doesn't look particularly remarkable with his avergae stature and messy mop of hair, but the jagged facial tattoos, bright orange eyes and sharp horns might unsettle some. He's wearing practical, rather worn clothes in various shades of grey and dirty green. On his back hang a large backpack and a hunting rifle, and a heavy blaster pistol hangs under his utility belt. It seems he's been traveling for a while.

The Zabrak walks lazily to the neares information desk and drops his pack to his feet with a thump. He leans his chin on his arm as he starts browsing the station details.

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@Rafe: Wild guess, Herglic? Arel probably hasn't seen one, though.

Also, dibs on dark olive green.

[Jensik]

Palini

The small furry creature stops dead in his tracks. A look of awe crosses his face and his jaw drops. He slowly takes off his backpack and lays it and his rifle on the ground. A mischievous grin gradually appears as he adjusts his shoulders and hunches downward into a ready position. Suddenly, he sprints forward as fast as he can and dives between the giant's legs. Once behind the charcoal brute, he begins to swiftly climb up to his shoulder, evading capture as best he can. If/when he reaches the top, he take a seat on his shoulder and press his face against the other's.

"Hi!"

[Kaymeera]

Arel

Directly outside the processing zone of the docking bay, you notice multiple, sparsely arranged information terminals. Upon approaching one of them, you notice, that it, along with the others, has been remodeled to something similar to a Holonet terminal, with advertisements rushing back and forth rapidly. There is no user input terminal, though there is a maintenance port readily visible and accessible.

Among the advertisements that catch Arel's eye:

• Gundark's Cantina: Looking for that special someone? Need a place to prop up your weary feet? Maybe you just need that glass of Correlian Ale? Come to Gundark's Cantina, the place where people from all walks of life, just come to relax. [Live Twi'lek show!]
• The Credit Chip: Where fortunes are made and lost. Sabacc, Pazaak, live pod-racing from Malastare. High stakes VIP den, by invite only.
• Delgas Medical Supplies: Currently Closed
• Mechanical Allies: If it's broke, we can fix it! Looking for that Nubian T-14 hyperdrive? (Republic) Imperial Credits are good! Deals that just can't go wrong! Ask for San.
• The Promenade: Sel Zonn's finest collection of stores and services providers.

Mara

A human man walks up to you, rubbing his hands together happily, with something of a smile on his face. In his 30s or 40s, this man is tall, at least 190 cm tall, and is somewhat pudgy. He has a blocky, muscly look about him, which seemed to have worn down with age and lack of exercise. He is wearing a stained green shirt over black pants. You note a large pin on his shirt, holding the symbol of the recently announced Imperial emblem.

Behind him, two worker droids unload two large crates off the ship you had just disembarked from, and laid them on the ground nearby. A second man with a large datapad, presumably a customs officer, proceeds to open one of the crates and look inside.

"You are a life-saver. I have never had someone bring me in a shipment of Ale this quickly. You have just saved my bus-iness."

He extends out a hand, glances at it for a moment, rubs it on the front of his shirt, then extends it once more.

"M'name's Saff, but everyone around here calls me Gundark", he shakes his head, "Long story."

Spoiler

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Your last job was to deliver a small, sub-freighter sized, shipment of Correlian Ale to Saff in a hurry. Using your contacts, you managed to do it in record time.

[Rafe]

Brek

Though Brek is fast, the small, strange being is faster. With a grunt, the large figure tries to dislodge the surprise attachment, but he cannot reach... not with only one hand free. Instinctively, he lowers his body into a crouch, dropping his centre of gravity. When he feels it on his shoulder, he turns his head, his free hand reaching upwards.

Hearing it speak, he stays his hand and blinks in surprise. His irritation at the thing stalls as he realizes this is not an attack or an attempt at thievery.

"What is it you want, little thing?" Brek says, his voice gravelly and deep. He narrows his eyes and cranes his head towards it to more closely examine it. "What are you and from what system?"

Spoiler

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Jensik, your character is close enough for sure to get a good look at Brek Sorath now. You see this: (except he has a long package over one shoulder, and is wearing a battered, grey combat jumpsuit)

[Sicarius]

Mara

Mara politely smiles and shakes the extended hand. "Mara Deltear. A pleasure to get it to you in time.Perhaps I'll drop by your establishment after I take care of a little business. Do you or any of your business partners have need of my services?"

[Kaymeera]

Mara

"Me? No. But-t, this is a trade station amongst other things. Someone or other probably wants something moved, provided you aren't too afraid to get your hands dirty, eh? Hehe. In any case, I better send this haul into storage, before .. well .. before someone or other with some authority and a taste for good drink decides they want a free cold one."

You watch as he gestures the droids to lift the crates and move onwards. He then shakes the official's hand, visibly exchanging a small credit chip.

[Jensik]

A huge grin crosses his face as he finally realizes how close he was to getting squished.

"Squib, Skorr 2. I'm Palini. I'll save you the trouble of my full name, most big folk can never get it right. Just came up here to say 'hi,' maybe get a better view of the place while I was up here. Darn convenient you bein' here and bein' this tall. This place is just fanTASTIC, don't you think? We didn't have anything like this back home. Or anything like you either. Good thing too, I think you might have scared the youngins. Got on odd smell, too. What are ya anyway? OOOOOOHHH! Something shiny!" Palini starts pointing and waving his hands toward the holo-panel. "Quick, quick... over there! That is NEAT!"

[Attilargh]

Arel

Arel's head twitches up slightly as he hears the Squib exclaim his enthusiasm about holo-panels and he turns to look. Now that you don't see all the time, he muses, picks up his backpack and steps closer for a chat. "Ain't it? Shame they've been converted, really, now all you can see is advertisements. Used to be you could find anything from vacant jobs to departing flights from one of these."

[Rafe]

Brek

While he doesn't overly mind the - What did he call his species? Squib? - the attention Palini was drawing is of questionable desirability. The large man turns towards the Zabrak. Brek eyes him appraisingly as he approaches. Well armed, and from some of the scarring on that rifle's flash constraint also accustomed to use, the hulking man thought.

His small dark-orange eyes are then drawn by the HoloNet terminals nearby. Not for the first time, he finds it a strange technology and is reminded of the chasm separating him from these others. What I don't know could fill data-libraries...

" 'Used to be?' I've never seen 'em do anything but show this garbage," Brek mutters, gesturing vaguely at the terminals with his large, two-fingered hand.

[Jensik]

Palini

Palini laughed.

Garbage, if only he knew. This is going to be easier than I thought.

Hopping down from his perch and landing semi-gracefully, the Squib casually walks back over to his belongings. "Info-Terminal, huh? So... you familiar with this place? I'm looking for work and my new friend here looks like he needs a drink. Badly. What do ya say, big guy? First round's on me."

[Sicarius]

Mara

Mara stifles her laughter at the amusing scene politely before realizing she still has a job to do. Realizing that the best place to dig up prospects would be the Promenade, she hurries toward it as quickly as possible.

[Rafe]

Brek

"My name is Brek," the hulking man growls. He tries to ignores the stifled laughter from those nearby. He is all too cognizant of the odd juxtaposition of himself and the Squib. Brek scratches his cheek with a black nail. Shrugging, he replies, "A drink, eh? I suppose I could be talked into that."

Brek eyes the Zabrak man and readjusts the bundle on his shoulder. "What about you? You want to get a drink in you after that passenger liner swill?"

These people seem to be in-the-know, Brek thinks. Perhaps I can learn more about this place and all that has happened in the last few years. Right now, ignorance is my greatest weakness.

[Attilargh]

Arel

"Well, not this place in particular, but I've been in a few docking bays. They all start to look the same after a few months. My name's Arel, by the way." The Zabrak grabs his kit and tosses it onto his shoulders. "I never turn down a free drink."

[Rafe]

Brek

Brek acknowledges the name with a nod. "Brek Sorath." He gestures to Palini. "Lead the way." Shifting his wrapped package and adjusting the hood of his cloak, he places a hand on the strange sword at his back.

So much time lost... or gained. He's lost in thought for a few moments, then releases the weapon. Brek shakes his head and scowls.

Spoiler

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Brek will take a look around to get a feel for the weapons of various space drifters, pilots, hired guns, etc. Basically, he wants to know if he can move about freely here with all his weapons in plain sight. At this point, I'm thinking it would take two Move Actions to ready his main weapon and while he's cautious by nature, he also likes to be prepared.

(1d20+7)[13]

[Kaymeera]

Mara

You step through a set of heavy blast doors to find yourself in the central pylon of Sel Zonn.

The Promenade is bustling with life. You see numerous shops, selling everything from datapads to blaster pistols, all arranged along the walls, with large eye-catching electronic banners over each. In the center, you find a large seating area alongside a decorative fountain.

Humans, particularly well dressed, may be seen browsing through storefronts or chatting idly near the fountain. A few droids, but not a single alien in sight, (a single, short stocky alien, wearing all-black robe-like clothing and goggles had hurried past you earlier). Imperial stormtroopers with blaster rifles roam the area in pairs.

Nearby, you note the entrance of a cantina, with music quite audible from its open doors.

Brek

Apart from the various Brental security forces, distinguished by their plaid light brown uniforms and a few humans, pilot-types, who carry pistols in side-holsters, you see no-one who looks armed. The humans appear untroubled at all by the security forces.

[Sicarius]

Mara looks at the cantina. Drunk lips were very loose, and could lead her to some potentially big scores. The drill was repeated a hundred times. The young Human walks into the cantina and begins asking around about jobs.

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Gather Information Check: (d20+8)[16]

[Jensik]

Palini

"Arel, huh? I'm Palini, mechanic, salvager and merchant extraordinaire." He picks up his pack and his rifle, and when they are back in their proper places he takes a long deep breath. "Heh... kinda smells like the ol' shop almost. Only without the grease... and the oil... and the rust. Now that I think about it, it's nothing like the ol' shop. Ok, too much reminiscing and not enough drinking. To the cantina!"

[Kaymeera]

You walking across the station, transversing the Promenade (Arel, Brek and Palini note the description above for the Promenade) and finally entering the cantina. Crossing the doorway, you walk past a divider and turn right to finally get your first glimpse inside.

The Cantina is shaped in a long rectangle inside the wall of the circular Promenade. To the right, a large window overlooks the Promenade, with some seating, similar to that of a diner, placed along it, forming a large number of relatively secluded booths. To the left, a large bar, also lined with stools, faces the window and manned by a single bald Chiss, currently cleaning a mug with a cloth. A little further away from the entrance, near the bar, is a single doorway, closed by a curtain. Directly ahead, a single, sparingly dressed Twi'lek dances fervently on a raised platform. Cantina music rings in your ears.

The patrons include several humans, a group of scruffy-lookin' pilots talking in grunts along the bar. A pair of well-dressed local Brentaans talk in whispers across a table to the right. Finally, a single rodian drinks alone at the far end of the Cantina, watching the dancing Twi'lek's movements with acute concentration, having dragged a chair away and settled it directly in view of the stage.

Mara

You don't hear much in the way of fruitful employment, at least, not in the capacity you can offer. You hear the whispered name "Ganga Lor" when walking past the pilots. Listening in some more, you infer it may be related to small shipments of illegal items. As you listen in on the conversation, an odd group enters the Cantina, the same party which had been conversing earlier at the landing station.

Brek, Arel, Palini ~ entering the Cantina a few minutes after Mara.

As you enter the cantina, you note the presence of an additional well-dressed human. She appears familiar - perhaps someone you glimpsed earlier at the landing platform.

[Rafe]

Brek

As the three move towards the cantina, Brek feels a restless angst growing. "We stick out like a Massassi blood temple on Coruscant..." he growls quietly to his companions. With the exception of the three, he sees no other aliens. His interest is piqued by the troopers. These must be those clones I heard Sarn talk about, he thinks.

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Kaymeera, how are they armed? With E-11 rifles?

Entering the establishment by angling is bulk and ducking, Brek scans the cheery cantina. A gruesome grin appears. At least some things don't change much. Seeing the well-dressed woman from the landing platform, Brek nudges Arel with his heavy foot and attempts to nod discreetly in the woman's direction.

Leaving the Zabrak to see if he recognizes the woman also, Brek eyes the room with an interest in finding a booth that gives an easy view to the curtained-off area, the bar and the main doors. Having his back to the glass window overlooking the Promenade doesn't bother him so much as having "eyes-on" this room.

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Spot: (1d20+7)[20]

The large man points a black-clawed finger at a booth. "That looks about right for the three of us." He begins to move through the room towards the booth he'd spied.

[Jensik]

Palini

Quietly humming to himself, Palini keeps an eye out for any treasures that someone may have left behind and making mental notes on their locations. The only thing stopping him from going now is the promise he made to his new friends.

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Perception - (1d20+4)[16] <-- Notice, not a spot or search check.

"A Massau-what-now?" Palini didn't notice the stares they were most likely attracting. Or rather... he did, but he just assumed they were all staring at Brek and not him. Once in the cantina his jaw dropped, and for the first time since he arrived on the station he had nothing to say. The moment of silence didn't last long, as Brek pointed out a booth.

"We're not sitting at the bar? But the bartender looks so friendly! Why wouldn't anyone want to chat with him?" He starts to laugh to himself and crawls under the table to get to the inner seat, letting his larger companions take the ends.

[Attilargh]

Arel

Arel walks through the Promenade, disregarding any odd looks from the humans. It's been like this on almost every Rep-, pardon, Imperial world and station he's been through lately, he's grown used to it. As he enters the cantina, he glances at the woman Brek nodded towards before finding a seat for himself. "She's the trader who came to the station at the same time with us, isn't she? What about her?"

[Rafe]

Brek

"A Massau-what-now?"

Hearing Palini, Brek blinks and realizes that he'd spoken out loud. "It's nothing important."

As Brek follows Palini into the booth, taking the outer seat that least faces the main doors (if he can't also be in a position to see all entrances) he shrugs heavily at Arel's question. He mutters, "Nothing; just curious is all. Seems like someone who knows people around here. Might be worth talking to."

[Kaymeera]

Brek

The only seat which can give you a good view of both ends of the cantina would have been the booth right at the end - dangerously close to the drooling rodian.

Roll Knowledge: Tech - DC: 20 or Knowledge: Tactics DC: 15 to get an exact identity on their firearms without close inspection.

Palini

Other than that cleaning droid you saw back there which sounded like it might just have a bad motivator - might have been wishful thinking on your part - you note nothing which fits the discarded treasure criteria. Sel Zonn appears to be among the cleaner stations you've ever set paw on.

[Rafe]

Brek

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Kaymeera: Brek will settle for the spot that gives him a view to the main doors, then, as I'm assuming that neither Palini nor Arel want to be near the gyrating dancer or the Rodian. I suppose it's Brek's call, since Palini started to move to the booth that Brek indicated. Let's say it's the next best thing to the booth near the Rodian and Twi'lek dancer.

Knowledge - Tactics: (1d20+1)[20]

Subtract 5 if you feel it falls into the category of "time lapse" penalties we've discussed. I suppose it depends on whether they're specific Imperial issue, or more common. Chances are he wouldn't suffer the penalty if they're more common (as he'd have seen them about on his travels in the last two months), but would have the penalty if they're in any way specific. Your call - just my two credits.

The large man places his bundle across his lap, removing the plasbands but keeping the package wrapped and concealed. He shifts his sword so it is comfortably arranged behind him, flat across his back against the seat.

[Kaymeera]

Brek

It takes you a minute, but, sure enough, the Imperial guard on the station were using standard E-11 blaster rifles with retractable stocks. Cheap enough to mass produce, not remotely accurate enough to do any damage.

The Brentaal security force, on the other hand, were obviously using something different - nothing you've seen before.

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Heh, I guess I wasn't clear - there are booths, with seating back-to-back, with a table in between, set along the window (think diner). To see both ends of the cantina, you'd have to take the booth furthest from the door. Sitting on that end, you'd face the main entrance, and the curtained off area would be to your right. You'd also still be dangerously close to the Rodian, who just happens to be camped out here watching the show.

[Jensik]

Palini

"If you like her so much invite her over, the more the merrier. She's paying for her own drink, though. Waitress lady! Three Jumas please and thank you!"