Crime and Courage (Star Wars Saga)

[Serainn]

A long time ago in a Galaxy far, far away...

First came the Mandalorian wars, A brutal enemy from outside the control of the republic began hammering outer systems, overwhelming the defenders in their push to the core. there are no doubts in the minds of many that if some of the Jedi had not rebelled against their masters and joined the fight that they would be slaves to Mandalore the Indomitable.

Then Sith war rocked the Galaxy to it's core, millions dead, atrocities committed every day by soldiers and commanders on both sides. Yet nothing compared to the complete obliteration of Taris. If it had not been for the intervention of the Jedi and their allies at the battle of the Star Forge, the combined might of the Galaxy would have been obliterated. Here the entire Galaxy realised how much they truly depended upon the Jedi

As the guns of both sides fell silent the purge came, Jedi around the galaxy were bieng hunted. within five years after the Sith wars end the Jedi Order has been reduced to a handful of Jedi scattered across the whole of known space. Out of this bleak time, an Exile of the Jedi order stepped out of the unknown and rallied men and women together to face the evil responsible. and on Malachor V he battled against his own mentor, carrying the future of every man, woman, and child upon his lightsaber.

His battle ended twenty years ago. The Jedi have begun to slowly repopulate the Galaxy. Yet even as they are returning, they are remaining hidden. The scars left on hundreds of planets because of their presence are fresh in their minds.

As time goes on the memories of battles won and lost are forgotten. History books record not what happened, but what the government wanted to happen. However as always seems to happen, a new threat has cropped up. organized crime is on the rise, and on the moon of Nar Shaddaa it has grown very powerful indeed.

The streets are quiet, the very noise of the city seems dulled by something in the air. shop windows now display several small stickers, with various logos adorning them. speeder traffic whizzes by, a band of street performers plays a mourning song, an old ballad that sings of the wars and the heroics they brought out in people. Pedestrians walk by with their heads down and their coats pulled up hiding their faces, going about their business and no one is going to stop them. Such is the beat of the new Smugglers moon.

Yet as always there are a few individuals who go against that beat...

[Azerian Kelimon]

Aiken

*SLAM!*

Aaaah, just great. That was the last guy on the list. There goes this week's paycheck. What's happening to people now? It's as if no one needed blasters anymore. We're on the smuggler's Moon, for crying out loud! So "says" a young man, as he kicks a wall in frustration. Shrugging, he heads for his preferred tavern. It's not as if this hasn't happened before, and you get accustomed to hardships after going through them a few times.

Entering the Raging Rancor, the young fellow orders a double Corellian Ale. Sitting at one of the tables farthest away from the entrance, he takes out his credit chip and datapad, and starts up a haunting tune, albeit in a very low tune, as he sips his drink, and reviews his account. As the music slowly fills his mind, he starts reflecting.

So, Aiken, what are you gonna do now? You're low on cash, you still have half your bills to pay, and you're going to have to lick many boots and do it well to keep the job.

Who the hell am I kidding? I'm screwed. I better start looking for a new job, lest I cannot pay the rent and get kicked out of the Drunt maison. Overwhelmed by the impending financial disaster, Aiken sits back, and closes his eyes, letting the music do the talking for him:

"As they tick away, the moments that make up a dull day,
you fritter and waste the hours in an offhand way.
Kicking around, in a piece of ground in your hometown,
You wait for something or someone to show you the way..."

[trineon]

Karef Ar'gont

Spoiler

Show

{table]

Race: Bothan, Male
Class: Scoundrel 1
Current HP: 19/19
Initative: +3
Speed: 6
Fortitude Defense: +12 Reflex Defense: +16 Will Defense: +14
Weapons: Heavy Blaster (3d8), Stun Baton (2d6 S), Hold-Out Blaster (3d4)

Full Character Sheet

[/table]

Karef Ar'gont was feeling well today. How couldn't he after getting paid? Walking among the street crowd, the Bothan's face was stoic, veiling his appeased mood.

That oaf of a wookie...

He had just returned from his visit to one of the Hutt crime lords, having successfully tracked down and located an evasive debtor. The target, a local wookie thug had worked up quite the debt it seems. Perhaps he was counting on his savage strength and intimidating appearance to keep the enforcers at bay. But you don't cross a Hutt, certainly not over issues regarding money. The Hutt rewarded Karef generously -for a Hutt- for the wookie's location. The Bothan freelancer was set to live on for another short while.

Now what?

No messages on his comlink. He didn't have any pressing matters for the time being. He could go to the docks and gaze at some of the starships he longed to own. Nah... I'm not getting myself depressed again so fast. Maybe just a drink at some local cantina. Might get lucky and find another drunk with loose secrets anyway.

Turning a corner, he headed towards the first moderately crowded looking drinking hole. "Raging Rancor". Sounds pleasant...

[Datton]

Vandrel

Standing peacefully at the spaceport, a calm and distinguished man stands in patience and eagerness, yet seeming a little bothered.

"*Sigh* This doesn't seem right... You'd think a contact from the Academy's officials would be much more punctual and professional."

3 hours it has been. Standing outside where his shuttle dropped him off...Yet he remains loyally standing where he was instructed, yet can't help but ponder to himself.

"I wonder what this guy, Mr. Hutt, is like...it seems like an odd name for someone with affiliation to Onderon's high society.....then again they said Mr. Hutt was a Hutt, so he might have gotten caught up in a last minute meeting or is having trouble making his way out here. *Gasp* maybe he got mugged by some brigand from the slums....nah the academy said that nobility is law...no one would do something like that...still, something is irksome. Perhaps I can learn something from the nearby cantina, someone must know who he is!"

Staring at a cantina marked "The Raging Rancor" he feels this might help him find some answers.

Hmm, what if he goes to the spaceport? Oh! of course, I'll use the comlink the council gave me to contact him! Silly me!....Must be special....it feels rather lighter than the one I have, Ha! technology these days...

The young man gently walks to the cantina with elegance and grace and he approaches the bar of the cantina.

Pardon me good sir, I kindly request the purchase of one Looman Ale when you get the chance...

[SamTheCleric]

Ryan Darkmatter

Exiting what passes for a transport ship these days, Ryan steps lightly, a rifle case over his shoulder and his other belongings in a dark blue duffle bag. His shoulder length black hair is a nice compliment to his plain black shirt and camouflage cargo pants.

"Nar Shadda? Who's idea was it to take a hunting trip with a layover here?" He looks up the loading ramp to the ship calling out, "How long is it going to take you to get repairs and run that errand you were mentioning?" He pauses, listening intently then sighs "Fine. You know my comm frequency. I'm going to go get a bite to eat." Tucking his bag onto his empty shoulder and lowering his sunglasses, he walks to the nearest cantina, a hive of scum and villainy known simply as the Raging Rancor. Ryan steps up to the bar, setting down his bags and ordering a drink and small bite to eat.

"I shouldn't have left Dxun..." he says gazing around the patrons of the dark bar. "I have a bad feeling about this."

[Tichrondrius]

Jikazza

What a joy, Nar Shadda. He always seemed to end up here, the center of the universe. You think Coruscant or whatever is? You'd be wrong. He'd never even been to Cor-whatever.

No, it was this place. This wretched hive of scum and villainy, as he'd heard someone say before. He got a lot of stares as he waked from the transport place to the sheet. But he was Wookiee, and he was proud of that fact. Wookiees always got a lot of stares. No one ever wanted to talk to a Wookiee though.

He re-adjusted his bag and Bowcaster and decided to stop off for a little drink. A vice few Wookiees entertained, but he was different. The Raging Rancor seemed like a good enough joint, so he took a step inside and ordered before he sat down.

"A couple of drinks of.." He scanned the menu, which sucked, "Corellian Ale." He finished. If this much got him slightly.. damnmit, this guy wasn't taking his order. In fact he looked absolutely terrified. He sighed and put his fist on the table and ordered again, louder. Maybe he had been on Kashyyyk too long. Because no one likes a loud angry Wookiee in a bar.

[The_Snark]

CNE-41 (Connie)

The contact, she observed, was now precisely one standard hour late. It didn't speak well for her hopes of receiving more supplies. The last delivery had not arrived at all; and now, her arrangement to speak with the freighter captain or one of his crewmen was apparently going to go unanswered as well. There were two obvious reasons why that might be the case: one, that the semilegal independent shipper Taron's Folly had been prevented from arriving by the application of violence, or the threat thereof. That might have been simple piracy, or it could have been actively directed at her efforts. Two, the supplies had been diverted by the application of large sums of money, which would certainly have been directed against her. Of course, there were other possibilities, such as the captain being arrested for something unrelated, or deciding to abandon the job for a better one.

Connie believed in coincidence, but that didn't mean she would ignore what might be a threat. Nor did it change the fact that she was running low on medical supplies, and would somehow need to arrange to get more—or possibly lie low for a while.

The drink in front of the droid—which hoverered beside one of the tables along the wall—was a formality, of course; bartenders didn't like patrons who never bought anything. The screen that normally displayed her representation had gone blank, although it would flick back on in an instant if she were addressed. A droid in a bar attracted enough attention without constantly depicting the image of a human.

She'd give them another half-hour, she decided. Then she'd begin looking into finding a replacement shipment, and maybe try to find out why they hadn't arrived.

[LongVin]

Raphael Spinola

The air had a strange stench to it, Ensign Spinola has been on the moon for a weeks already but he had yet to get used to the smell. He was the latest addition to a Republic Naval Intelligence officer to be assigned to the moon to keep on the lookout for threats to the Republic, be they renegade soldiers, pirates, or perhaps even a reemerging Sith threat.

His bright blue naval uniform stood out from the general drab of the crowd. He told himself every trip out that he should replace the noticeable uniform with more appropiate clothing but he was proud of his service to the Republic...and maybe, just maybe they would take him for a corrupt officer so he could get the leads he was searching for.

They told him during training that cantinas were often the contact points for undesirable elements, and this one..."the raging rancor" seemed like any a good place to start. Entering the cantina he removes his service cap and looks around the dark room.

Approaching the bar, Raphael futilely tries to get the attention of the busy bartender but his polite motioning seems to go unnoticed.

[trineon]

Karef Ar'gont

Spoiler

Show

{table]

Race: Bothan, Male
Class: Scoundrel 1
Current HP: 19/19
Initative: +3
Speed: 6
Fortitude Defense: +12 Reflex Defense: +16 Will Defense: +14
Weapons: Heavy Blaster (3d8), Stun Baton (2d6 S), Hold-Out Blaster (3d4)

Full Character Sheet

[/table]

As he stepped through the doors, Karef instantly heard the easily recognizable howls and grunts, and glanced around him. Shyriiwook. Wookiee's? Here? He didn't need a sharp set of eyes to spot a furious tower of fur and claws. Well. Not dealing with that, thats for sure. Taking note of the agitated-looking patron, Karef proceeded towards a spot of the bar farther away. His ingrained habit of maintaining his stoic composure in public had spared him from staring at the Wookie. However, as he walked past the hovering droid, Karef had to will himself to not pause and stare. Droid...patrons?

Finally arriving to the bar, Karef sat on a vacant stool and signaled to the barkeep. "You serve any Bothan drinks? I prefer brandy, but anything will do right now." Paying the barkeep, he sips at his drink, savoring the soft burning sensation. Drunk Wookies, drinking droids...And here I thought I had Nar Shaddaa figured out... Glancing around the cantina a second time, Karef noticed the officer in full uniform, and smiled for a short instant. A Republic officer. Looks a little fresh on the job. He could still know a thing or two though... Swallowing his drink, he takes a second sip. Better hold off till he's had a drink or two...

[LongVin]

"Sir, Sir. Over here." Finally getting the bartender's attention he orders himself an ale and tentatively taking a sip before looking around the cantina.

The Hutt's moon was an extremely cosmopolitan world filled with dozens of alien species all stuffed together in a confined space. His homeworld of Coruscant was largely multi-special but the general population was mostly human and atleast on the upper levels very civil and regal. Here, it was completely different, the dreges of society.

[Datton]

Sir... if I could just-- as he continued to get the bartender's attention for the fourth time. He couldn't get why.

Please just a Loo....man....Ale....right... as the barkeep's ignorance proceeded.

*sigh* must be busy...oh well...maybe heading out would be a good idea...though my feet still hurt a little...and I'm still thirsty

Confident in his last chance he called out once more
Good sir, a Looman Ale please....!

Still ignored, he couldn't contemplate how his mannerisms were failing him in the Raging Rancor...

[SamTheCleric]

Ryan Darkmatter

Ryan smirks at the stuffed shirt trying to slum it with the low lifes. He whistles sharply, raising his hand in the air.

"Hey! This man wants a Looman Ale. I got 5 credits that says he can't hold it down." Turning to the man, Ryan winks once and then takes another bite of his dinner.

[Azerian Kelimon]

Aiken

Gazing at the wookie's vain attempts at communicating with a man who obviously didn't speak Shyriiwook, Aiken chuckles, cheered up by the realization that no matter how bad your situation is, there's always someone who's in a worse situation.

Probably a tourist who's slipped out of his reach and seems almost out of his mind. It's incredible that some Wookie's and Gamorreans still lack a Vox-Box.

[Datton]

His final attempt failed and gazing at an angered wookie nearby he felt inspired to secede.

*sigh* oh well, perhaps I will find more luck elsewhere, but not now... he muttered to himself back to the port...I hope Mr. Hutt isn't there kept waiting

He stands up from his chair and proceeds to walk away with the same distinguished movement as he entered...not looking forward to possibly waiting even longer than before, but still willing to do as he was asked.

[trineon]

Karef Ar'gont

Spoiler

Show

{table]

Race: Bothan, Male
Class: Scoundrel 1
Current HP: 19/19
Initative: +3
Speed: 6
Fortitude Defense: +12 Reflex Defense: +16 Will Defense: +14
Weapons: Heavy Blaster (3d8), Stun Baton (2d6 S), Hold-Out Blaster (3d4)

Full Character Sheet

[/table]

Insufferable...
Karef was beginning to feel irritated. The officer wasn't succeeding in getting any drinks. Too polite, officer. Too polite. Put some command in that voice... This isn't some high class joint in Coruscant. At least the officer wasn't alone in his endeavours. Another person, clearly also of nobility origins, had inadvertantly joined him in begging for the barkeep's attention. It was amusing at first. But now it was just getting painful to watch.

Noticing the noble leave, apperantly given up, he glances at the officer. Still trying are you? Maybe... Standing up, he shouts as he walks over to the leaving man. "You there! Hold up a minute!"

[Tichrondrius]

Jikazza

The Wookiee tried to enunciate his words properly to order a drink, then figured out that this barkeep didn't seem to speak his language at all. Sure, the loud roars, the subtle nuances in his language could be difficult- but barkeeps were supposed to know these things. He did, however, manage to have a glass of ale sat in front of him. Not the kind he ordered, however, and probably just to shut him up. He sighed and sat at the bar, figuring it was better then nothing.

He hadn't been on Nar Shadda in a while, but it hadn't really been that long, had it? Well, last time he was hear he didn't talk to most people except his masters, some fellow slaves, and that other Wookiee, but he knew most people couldn't understand him. This was going to be a problem, he surmised, while trying to lift the glass with a large clawed hand and take a swig. No wonder most Wookiees didn't drink, this glass was obviously made for a much smaller person. Sometimes you couldn't even catch a break in the small things. But he did allow himself a look around the room, suppressing a chuckle at the obviously up-scale guy trying to order a drink. Looks like he wasn't the only one having problems.

[Rane126]

Blake Sven

A young man walks down the ramp of a recently docked passenger shuttle. He's dressed in sturdy boots, rugged trousers and a long coat that flows out behind him, stirred in the wind created by his swift stride, it does nothing to obscure the jumpsuit and expensive looking blaster holstered at his hip. Casually slung over one shoulder is a blaster carbine, again, new and polished, this one cost a pretty penny. He pauses a little way from the foot of the ramp, far enough not to obstruct anyone still disembarking and looks around.

So this is Nar Shadda, a place to begin my new career. There's bound to be bounties aplenty here, but where to start? The Blue Gamorean cantina always had rumors and talk, I'll probably be able to pick up some gossip at a cantina here. He thinks to himself.

He picks up his stride again, following the general filtering of folks leaving the space port into the streets. Looking around, keeping a careful lookout on his surroundings and those beings that share the street with him, he keeps watch for a likely establishment. There's one, "The Ranging Rancor", it has a nice ring to it. The young man ducks in through the door.

He pauses to let his eyes adjust to the interior darkness. Looking around he sees a typical bar, patrons trying to be noticed by the slovenly bartender, whispered conversations, a ratchety band playing and a number of girls plying their 'dancing' trade. Perfect he thinks. He saunters to the bar and immediately manages to snag the bartender's notice with sheer force of his personality. "Corellian brandy. And in a clean glass." he says, flipping a small denomination cred chip onto the bar, plenty to cover the expensive drink and a handsome tip. Receiving his drink with a nod, he flips his coat away from his blaster and leans the other elbow onto the bar, looking around for a likely source of information.

[Serainn]

A Sudden shout of "Hey Kid, Your not supposed to be back here" draws everyones attention. a moment later a young man, his eyes filled with fear, bursts out of the kitchen. quickly he turned and threw the heavy kitchen door back closed, drawing a grunt from an unseen person. The kid rushed ahead into the main floor of the Cantina. His body was thrown back and forth as he stumbled his way through the crowd of tables and patrons.

Three seconds on his tail two human men, dressed in matching black sportcoats, came through the door. in stark contrast to the kid their eyes were completly calm. their actions were measured as they reached into their coats and drew out black blaster pistols. the whine of the pistols filled the room as they fired at the young kid.

the kid's bright red hair whipped around as he pointed a blaster at the two of them. his pistol spat out angry red beams at the two men, passing between them and thudding into the wall.

The kid however wasn't as lucky. three steps from the door a bolt slammed into his left shoulder, throwing him into the ground. the two men in black coodly put their pistols back in their coats and began to walk across the room. the few patrons who haden't taken cover moved quickly out of their way.

Did you really think you'd get away this time Onjo?

[Datton]

Fairly dead to the world, he proceeds to walk out until he matches a voice that grew louder and louder appear right in front of him, matching with a Bothan before him...

Oh!!! Pardon me good sir, I didn't see you there for a moment. I apologize. *clears throat* I am Vandrel Swift of Onderon, what do you require Mr.....

[SamTheCleric]

Ryan Darkmatter

"Holy Hell!" Ryan exclaimes as blasters begin firing in the cantina. He quickly drops to the floor, putting his back to the bar. Oh great, just what I needed...

[LongVin]

Raphael Spinola

His drink now spilled and his body on the floor from the shock of the whole situation, the ensign pulls himself back to his feet, picking up his cap from the dirty floor and shaking it clean.

There seems to be a situation going on here, people can't just go around blasting one another that was against Republic law and he was supposed to uphold that law. Placing his cap on his head, his hand dropping down to grip his blaster he approaches the gunmen and the injured kid.

"Excuse me gentlemen." He says with all the authority he can muster "What seems to be the problem here?"

[Serainn]

None of your business. one of the men said in a gruff voiceas he looked up at Raphael. his partner grabbed the kid and hoisted him up onto his shoulder.

No one asked you to be here Republic scum. this moon can handle itself without you. the other said, his voice showing strain from carrying the body.

[LongVin]

Raphael Spinola

Raphael directs his attention towards the first man who seems to be greater threat and unencumbered by the body. "Nar Shadda falls under the jurisdiction of the Republic and you are in violation of Republic law!"

Removing his blaster slowly from its holster, he holds it low and keeps it pointed towards the ground but ready to be pulled up should it be needed. "With the power given to me by the Galatic Senate and the Supreme Chancellor I order you to explain yourselves."

[Serainn]

I aught to make a smear of you now. the first man said, aint like the police'll do anything 'bout it. he reached into his coat and began to pull his blaster out.

Don't Aves. the second man said, placeing his hand on his partners chest. Boss won't want any more of a scene than we already have. mabie a small sum can clear this up... what do you say... Ensign isn't it?

[Azerian Kelimon]

Aiken

For Aiken, time seemed to freeze as the boy was shot. He knows that the Hutts have power, but attempting something THIS close to the starport and the republic authorities...that had some nerve. But regardless of that, he subtly unholstered his blaster. This was not right. The boy was injured, and this men could care less about his state. Something had to be done.

Rapidly scanning the Rancor, he noticed that most of the patrons had approached the two thugs, curious about the reason for the attack. A few had left or were about to leave. Good. It would make things easier.

His attention returning to the thugs, he noticed one last thing. His table. Perfect cover, right in front of him. Good. Now, it was time to act.

Wordlessly, Aiken lies down on his seat and rolls. Then, as he positions himself below the table, he takes a few shots at the first thug.

Spoiler

Show

Call it rash, but Aiken doesn't like bullies. Not a little bit. Thus, I use a surprise round to do a move action to roll under the table, and take a Rapid shot at the guy who's not carrying the boy. I THINK I get cover from the table, as well as denying the guy his dexterity to reflex.

Attack roll: (1d20+2)[22]

Damage roll: (4d8)[23]

[Serainn]

with a loud whine several blaster bolts flew across the room from under the table. two of them hit Aves in the chest, picking him up and slamming him into the door. as he slid down to the floor his face took on a look of suprise as he slowly died.

The second thug dumped the body onto the ground, drawing his pistol at the same time. As he lined up a shot with where the bolts came from he grabbed the young Ensign, trying to use him as cover.

grapple - (d20)[9]

[trineon]

Karef Ar'gont

Spoiler

Show

{table]

Race: Bothan, Male
Class: Scoundrel 1
Current HP: 19/19
Initative: +3
Speed: 6
Fortitude Defense: +12 Reflex Defense: +16 Will Defense: +14
Weapons: Heavy Blaster (3d8), Stun Baton (2d6 S), Hold-Out Blaster (3d4)

Full Character Sheet

[/table]

Karef's eyes were stinging, and he felt sore in the back. Of all the endless scum joints in Nar Shaddaa... He was walking over to that noble, his drink in hand when the kid tore in the room. He didn't have time to get down when the thugs blasted away at that kid. The panicked patrons around him did however, as they inadvertantly knocked him down, spilling his drink over his face. Two of them. On whose payroll? Slowly and carefully reaching for his holstered blaster, he rolls a little to the side, behind a table knocked down by his panicked benefactors. The sooner they leave the bet-

"Nar Shadda falls under the jurisdiction of the Republic and you are in violation of Republic law!"

...What? The officer was standing up to them? A clean officer? Here? He *is* fresh. Karef didn't have time to ponder this, as several more blaster shots pierced the air and tagged one of the thugs, slamming him to the door. Might as well, then. Drawing his blaster, Karef takes careful aim at the second thug as he attempts to grapple the officer. Come on officer, move out, give me a clear shot...

[Azerian Kelimon]

((Hmm....does the thug have the Pin or Trip feats? If he doesn't, he has to do a Grab attack. And he takes a -5 penalty to it.


Hmm...how does he get the actions to do it? It would be a Move or Standard action to drop the body, another Move to get to the officer, and a standard to grab or grapple. Seems like a two rounder. In which case, we all get to act 'fore the guy.))

[Datton]

Awaiting introductions, Vandrel heard a loud thud near the doorway. Turning to gaze at the eyes of a dying man. He quickly turned to address the Bothan but soon saw him with a blaster drawn plotting to aim at the fellow that was next to the deceased and the small child.

What.....you're....oh my...th-th-this was not a good idea...

Looking at the body remaining quite dead to his eyes he stares, eyes wide open, and lightly vomits near the ground he stood...All the training he got at the academy never planned to prepare him for seeing death before his eyes.

What....why...why did I..come.......here as he falls on his knees trying to gain control of his emotions.

[SamTheCleric]

Ryan Darkmatter

Heh, told you he couldn't hold it down Ryan thinks to himself, peeking around the corner to get a better vantage point on the thugs. Ok, one down, one using an officer as cover. They seem are ok without my help...But, no use being a coward

Ryan lays down his metal Rifle case and lifts the rifle from it's hiding place. Just like Mynocks... Just like Mynocks.

"Hey! You, with the weak stomach! Get down!" Ryan calls out before propping his rifle on the bar and getting the thug in his crosshairs. Ok, adjust for breathing... lead the target... keep breathing Ryan...