Rax knocks on the side of the cargo heavy. "Hey, you Tookur? Someone told me I was gonna be driving your truck this next run."

"Captain? Target Priorities? Any specfiics we should be aware of during the Ambush? Or is is kill 'em all?"

Toco looks off towards the truck, but is torn since he hasn't been ordered to mount up.

"So, what's my job gunna be... What use will a Mechanical droid be?"

Listening to the brief, Geoff purses his lips as he listens to the Lieutenant and the others. There are too many unknowns and not enough time to get the information, Geoff thought as he considers the various tactics. This can either go really good or go really bad for us.

Upon hearing Rax's statement, Geoff shakes his head, his mind flashing to the half dozen or so times events have turned bad after someone jinxed them. It's about to go really bad.

Once the briefing was finished, Geoff followed the others, thinking about what he and his gear could do for others. Upon meeting the Captain, Geoff's opinion of the 3rd Platoon leader fell as the weequay demonstrated much bravado and little empathy. He's the type of man that's going to get us killed.

Narrowing his eyes at the bombastic captain, Geoff's eyes narrow as he said the real war. "The 'real war', Captain," Geoff says as he looks at the motley crew. "A real war can't be won if we are painted as pirates, murderers, and scum. Unless you are willing to bleed out on the battlefield, you will need to win the hearts and minds of the people. Otherwise, they'll gladly take the Empire's 'gifts' in exchange for not dealing with the likes of us, should we go that route. Unless you also want a repeat of what had caused the Republic to fall."

Looking around, Geoff looks around for what looks at the rest of the platoon. "Any of you a Medic? Or should I assume you are all idiots who don't understand the first rule of first aid?"

Rax shakes his head. "Sorry Doc, my gig was swooping. The only rule of first aid we had was 'Don't fall off the bike,' and I don't think that's gonna help anyone who gets themselves blasted."

"Listen to your pilot," says Zavvel. "First rule of first aid is don't get shot. The second rule, of course is don't complain. But if you do get shot I'm sure the Doc can help," he throws a thumb over his shoulder towards an Ithorian in a lab coat packing up a medical kit, the black throat-band of an Ithorian exile prominent over his uniform. "War isn't won by rosy-cheeked heroes and beautiful princesses. What is this, a holodrama? Real war is won by the people willing to get down in the muck to fight. And if the people we fight for don't like us, so be it. I'm just here until the creds run out anyway. Your target priority is to kill anything with a bucket on its head. My team will go in and pick over the trucks for anything useful. You make sure we don't get blasted in the process. Simple enough for you?"

Rax sees the feet emerging from the truck disappear, to be replaced a moment later by two equally-furred hands, and then the head of an excitable Chadra-Fan. He squeaks excitedly. "Me Tookur! Me excited to have new driver! You have best mechanic and best truck in all of Alliance-Alliance!"

Hearing Tookur say mechanic I immediately say to him "Wait I'm going on this thing?!" This is said with a Bad whir "Well, let me take a look at it... see if it's all in good shape"

"You want to have a look-look? This way, this way!" He scampers back into the truck's cabin. Following him in he is sat in the central crew seat, which has been modified for his physique. "Engine has been heavily modified - lots changed, many parts. Many details!" He opens the hatch into the cargo compartment, revealing enough seats for the platoon, with lockers for their kit. "Wall has opening panels. Lets you shoot out. Armoured too. Very good in firefight!" He grins. "You like?"

"Yer real nice. Now the engine mods, whats been done to it?"

"Engine upgraded!" the Chadra-Fan grins madly. "Superchargers added! More cylinders! More repulsorlifts! More power! Brake cables cut!"

"Nice upgrades, but the brakes cut, this aint no suicide mission... mind if I reconnect the brakes?"

"Haha. Was exaggerating. Brakes not cut. Will work fine. On good day," he pauses, and sniffs the air. "This good day."

"A good day to die maybe," Zavvel growls from up the stairs.

"Yessir Captain Zavvel sir!"

"Mind if I check over all the systems then to make sure it's running smooth?"

"Of course. Be my guest. Have turned over engine this morning. Running like dream! But have look anyway."

Toco makes his way around the back of the truck. Stepping into the carrier's rear, inspects the panel. Practices opening and closing it. Fits his rifle in, and figures out the stance he would need to take for decent aiming.

"Fantastic cover but the lines of site are a bit tight."

After closing the panel, he takes a quick inventory of any gear on hand. Eyes on where the fire extinguisher and first aid kit are.

He steps out of the back and calls to the nearest soldier, "We have a tactical frequency?" And prepares to set his ComLink.

"Thanks"

I make may way to the ships computer terminal and plug in to check the ships systems.

"We've got channel Osk as the primary with channel Xesh as the reserve. If everything gets FUBAR, that's where the orders'll come through," the communications trooper turns back to his pack.

"Osk and Xesh, chec..." Toco's voice trails off as he sees the Comms trooper turn away.

Finding a flat surface, he does a final inspection of his weapon.

"Now we just wait."

Shaking his head at the Captain's dismal view and his mercenary attitude, Geoff heads to the Ithorian. "Greetings, my name is Geoff Hanson," the human doctor says as a he extends in his hand in greeting. "I just recently arrived and would like to go over what medical gear we have. May we compare medical gear?"

Taking the back pack of, Geoff shows the Ithorian the two medpacs.

"Of course," says the Ithorian. "I'm Weyrun. You the refugee doctor?"

Smiling at someone recognizing what his previous history was, Geoff opens the back pack. "Good to meet you Weyrun. About time someone remembers what I was. Apparently command said I was some viral pathologist."

The first case Geoff opens is the standard medpac. "I used to work for RRM until Alderaan. Between that and the previous conflicts, I made a decision to get active a bit more. I 'officially resigned' from the RRM, but I have a few friends that are willing to send help, as long as I help them in turn."

Moving to the side, Geoff lets the Ithorian look at the medpac. "This is the standard fair medpac. I also have a few extra stimpacks and synthflesh sheets. In addition, I have this for either here or at a more 'established' medbay..."

As he spoke, Geoff opens the second the medpac, the ECM-598. and lets the Ithorian check it out. "What do you have?"

(Action Request: Can I use a Charm action to become friends with Weyrun? If I can, what's the difficulty?)

Weyrun is part of Zavvel's crew, so it's a Hard (3) check with a Setback dice

Weyrun is part of Zavvel's crew, so it's a Hard (3) check with a Setback dice

Charm attempt to Weyrun: 2eA+1eP+3eD+1eS 2 failures, 1 advantage

(Action: Two Ability + One Proficiency + Three Difficulty + One Setback have been rolled.)

(Rolled well for the good dice and just as bad for difficulty, getting two failures and one advantage. I figured I might have either annoyed or offended Weyrun with berating the captain, revealing that I was in the RRM, or he considers me showing off.)

(RAW doesn't have what the failures mean, but I think that it would be some irritable annoyance from Weyrun for this scene or the next. However, that advantage might have gotten someone else, possibly someone in tech, to warm to me. Or a soldier who wants the guy with some good medical gear around.)

Weyrun looks down at you from atop his hammerhead coldly. "I hope you know these supplies are for your comrades and not some snivelling cowards when the las is flying everywhere." He packs up his kit and stalks off.

"Ignore Weyrun," says Tookur. "He angry because clan threw him off ship. Not good doctor. Much better dentist!"

Your response is cut off as the Colonel mounts a stack of munitions crates artfully placed in the centre of the room. "Mount up!" he calls. "We're going on an Imp hunt."

Oro double checks that his vibroknife, pistol, and grenades are all secure in their various holsters and belts. "Let's do this." He climbs into the back seat of the vehicle.