The Hutt Space Chronicles

Welcoming Party

DISASTER! The DS-1 Battle Station, known more widely as the Death Star, has been destroyed by Rebel Forces in the Yavin system. The defeat of the Empire's so called "super weapon" has revealed weaknesses it previously tried to hide. With these weaknesses revealed, galactic powers take heed, examining their own plans.

From the planet Nal Hutta, Bargos the Hutt, having recuperated from an assassination attempt from decades ago, has entered into an alliance with Shoola the Hutt and Reom. For his role, Bargos is to ensure that operations in Nal Hutta go according to plan.

The fading lines of hyperspace gives open to an alien sky, giving the crew of the Fool's Errand a all too soon to be familiar glimpse of Hutt Space. A place where they could hide, where dreams and fortunes to could be made, and where pasts can be erased.

Unfortunately for the crew, those thoughts scatter as the portside engines sputters and dies, it's dying whine indicating another problem. At over thirty years old, Fool's Errand had seen better days and worse ones, though it seems to get worse. Two weeks on a cramped transport might be bad, but the Errand almost made it impossible. Debris littered the corridors and rooms, as well as an ever present smell of decay, damage, and inhabitation.

In the bridge area, an older human male, shoulders weighed down from years of bad runs, gets up from the pilot's chair. In the chair next to him, a blue skinned Twi'lek keeps working, hands moving around as she keeps an eye on gauges and, alarms, and alerts. Behind them, in the sensor operator's seat, sits a Duros, his hands going over the computer terminal as it barely sputters to life. Beside him, connected through a communications port, is an R4 unit, it's head turning and beeping. At the gunner stations, a Mirialan and a Trandoshan sit, their eyes on their own screens and waiting for sensors to pick up whatever is out there.

In the passenger and crew corridor, the bunks and rooms are a chaotic mess. In the rechristened Female quarters, another twi'lek, this one green skinned skin, is going over her data pad, trying to concentrate. In the common area, a Rodian is nursing a shot of Corellian Whiskey as he tries to center himself.

In the cargo bay, a human male talks to an old Tactical Droid, motioning at the cargo and gear. In a corners, rolled up, lies a droideka, it's sensors on, ready for a challenge.

Deeper, in the engineering area, the last two crew members work. The Klatoonian is sweating from the heat as he tries to keep the old primary engine working. Alongside, providing what assistance he can, stand a Iktotchi, sweating and a bit nervous from the amount wear and tear on the vessel.

The buzz of the comm draws out a sigh from the engineer crew.

"Gorramit, Massan, I'm paying you to keep my blasted ship intact until Nar Shaddaa. What are you and that assistant of yours doing back there?"

[You and your fellow players have spent the last two weeks on board the Fool's Errand, a Gozanti-class Armed Transport. Despite that, the clutter and mess, along with the smells and sounds, have not been kind to you. As such, each player (both Primary and Alternate) need to make an Average (DD) Resilience Check, except for ColonelCommissar, Kymrel, and JalekZem taking an upgrade to the difficulty (DC). I'll be using a Dark Side point to up the challenge due the amount of stress and strain you have went through.]

[Failure of the Resilience Check means suffering two Strain damage. Disadvantages will add a setback die will be added to your checks on the ship. Despair means something "special".]

[succeeding the Resilience Check means not suffering the strain damage. Advantages will add a Boost die to your checks on the ship. Triumph are also special.]

Destiny Pool: 8 Light Side Points/ 3 Dark Side Points

Massan has seen better days. He is wet with sweat, filthy and in a bad mood. When he signed up as a mechanic on the Fool's Errand he was unaware of the terrible state the ship was in. He had been hoping for a rather uneventful cruise to Hutt space with plenty of time to fiddle with his latest toy, a shiny new Merr-Sonn Model 53, this one produced on Raxus Prime, where all the best Merr-Sonn factories were located. Instead, he found himself slaving just to keep the hyperdrive running and the life support on something that came impressively close to an optimal setting.

Despite the difficult conditions on board the ship the pudgy Klatooinian is in a good shape. For a former slave working long hours at a difficult job is nothing new.

The Klatooinian swears softly in Hutteese when the captain yells at him through the intercom. He wipes his forehead with a greasy hand as he fishes out his commlink he mutters to himself.: "Clearly he's not paying me enough to keep this old deathtrap flying,"

His tone is quite different when he addresses the captain, leaning against the wall looking at several different monitors and blinking red lights. "Working hard, captain, working hard. I told you those overlay transfer cuplings would not last more than a couple of jumps, and that was six jumps ago. I think I've found a way to bypass the problem and keep us flying, but If I were you I'd try to get this beauty into a drydock on Nar Shaddaa."

A warning klaxon goes off and Massan immediately silences it, leaving only yet another red light blinking furiously at him. "Also, the life support system needs an overhaul, it is overheating now that we are out of hyperspace. We can manually vent some of the heat out to space, but that is only a temporary solution."

_________________

OOC: Success!

Sheed scowled down at her datapad in the stuffy, overly warm confines of the bunk room that had been unofficially designated "womens' country" aboard the Errand. She was scowling not so much because of the program, but rather because of the environment; she might have said the ship had seen better days, but at this point, she was wondering if perhaps the thing hadn't been a dilapidated flying scrap heap from the day it rolled off the line, so thorough was its squalor.

I just knew I should have ponied up for a steerage bunk on that liner out of Randon!, she thought to herself, adjusting a shoulder strap on her sweat-soaked shirt. There was an air vent beside her...one of the main reasons she'd opted for the top bunk, but for the duration of the trip, the small rectangular grill had only alternated between a pathetic wheeze of slightly-less-awful air and total non-function. As she thought of it, as if on command, the vent gave out, a slight metallic rattle and a dying gasp to signal its failure.

In a fit of frustration, Sheed hissed a colorful comment in her native tongue and gave the vent a whack with the bottom of her fist. As if responding in kind, the ship made an awful noise as the port engine failed.

Before the young twi'lek could complete an eye roll at the ridiculous condition of the ship, the damaged engine's slowing sent a shudder through the bulkhead. Barely enough to unsteady a passenger on foot, but from her awkward perch on the top bunk, it was enough to send her sprawling, awkwardly smacking her head off the bunk frame.

"I swear, if I never see this ship again it'll be too soon..." , she grumbled as she hauled herself back into an upright position, gingerly rubbing her head...

_________________________________________________________________

Sting wallowing in a bottle of Corellian Whisky sits alone in the common area slowly drinking his time away. He hears the exchange between the Captain and the Engineer. Well, at least if I die in space I won't have to work for those smelly Hutts again. He sighs and downs another shot of whiskey.

-------------------------------------------------\

OOC:

"Yes, of course I'm sure everything is stowed properly," Tion says to Prefect, his droid boss on the ship, trying to not let his exasperation with the droid show. "And this would be much easier if you'd just speak basic. I know you know how. I've heard you speak to the captain."

A series of beeps and boops are Prefect's only reply.

"Yes, yes, yes. I have. And I also realize this isn't how you would've loaded everything, but if I'm going to do something it's going to be with some style," he says, gesturing to the tattered Pod Race team flags he's used to distinguish different sets of cargo.

More chirps and beeps.

"Yup. Uh huh. You're programmed to get the job done. I did that, just...differently. Different's not wrong, you know. Surely some logic circuit in there should know that."

A slight whirring comes from Prefect.

"OK human, your point is made," the droid says in basic. "You may be right."

Tion claps his hand together, grins, and points at Prefect.

"Ha! I KNEW it! I should've bet with Massan on it when he made me this binary translator. He kept trying to tell me I was paranoid."

A violent jerking signals they've fallen out of at least hyperspace and, knowing this poor excuse for a ship, possibly out of the sky entirely. Tion reaches out and grabs desperately for one of the flags he'd attached to the bulkhead. His grasp finds purchase and he steadies himself, then shoots a sidelong glance at Prefect.

"There. See? They're functional too."

(OOC: Does the advantage have to be for the very next check or can I bank it?)

Resilience: 2eA+2eD 1 success, 1 advantage

Lynna cancels the fifth shrieking klaxon to fill the cockpit in the last four minutes with an angry slam of her fist on the central console. So much for quality transport. I should have taken that gig on the Endymion Star when I had the chance, she thinks. Sure, I'd have spent six weeks gyrating for Hutts higher than a Coruscanti mortgage, but at least it had functional ventilation. And a shower. Another alarm crops up in the back of the cockpit; this one gets a thrown hydrospanner for its trouble, though the slight relief from the alarm - which merely takes the edge off the ever-present sounds of crackling electronics, grinding mechanics, crackling comms and general aura of degredation aboard the vessel - is replaced by the far-worse sound of the ship's port engine suddenly and spectacularly failing. The coughing bang that runs through the ship, and subsequent blast of smoke and dust out of the ship's air vents, manages to cover up the precise detail of the expletive Lynna lets loose, but the message carries across just fine.

She slumps back in her chair, rubbing her hands up and down her lekku in a vain attempt to release some endorphins into her brain before she is inspired to physically tear the ship's hull apart with her bare hands - starting in engineering and working forward - then turns to face the Captain. "Do we give them the good news, the bad news, or dispense with those and tell them the truth?"

______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Flipping back a Destiny point, because I have an abysmal Resilience:

Resilience Roll: 1eP+1eA+1eC+1eD 0 successes, 1 threat

Screw it, and I hate my job, Are just 2 of the many, and the least colorful thoughts going through Daal's head.

Wow 2eA+2eD: 2 successes [2eA=S, S/A] [2eD=-, Th]

As the ship settles some more from jumping out of hyperspace, additional klaxons and alarms start going off. A glance at a read out indicates a program error, which also shuts down the sensors and communications computer.

In the engineering bay, the saga of the portside engine trouble is beginning. Though the engine has been safely shut down, the troubles of having it down is already slowing the ship. In addition, it is already causing the handling of the ship to get worse as well as straining an already taxed propulsion system.

In the cargo bay, Prefect turns his head and looks at Tion. "Excuse me, human, but I must see to the Captain. If you wish to waste my time with that idiotic and ridiculous 'binary' translator, may I recommend you test it on R4? Otherwise, your demeaning and useless experiment might enrage the Captain to the point where he would gladly take a penalty in exchange for throwing you out an airlock with the benefit of a EVA suit."

Compiled together, the Captain raises his hand to his eyes and starts rubbing them, his thoughts already going into overdrive on the state of affairs. "Massan, please tell me you can fix it?"

[OOC has the tasks and Difficulty checks. In addition, I highly encourage banter and conversation in between players and the various NPCs.]

Massan feels like slamming his forehead against the computer screen as the list of failing systems starts to blink ominously. "Of course I can fix this, not a problem captain. I could use an extra pair of hands or two. Hope you don't mind." He shuts off the comms before the captain has a chance to inquire what exactly it is that he is not supposed to mind. "Easier to get forgiveness than permission," he mutters.

As he starts working on prioritizing things to repair to get the faulty engine operational, the chubby Klatooinian switches the comm system to broadcast throughout the ship. "Uh, hm. Yes, this is your enginee... hm. Massan. This is Massan. I could use an extra pair of hands or three down here. In engineering. I'm in engineering. Nothing to worry about. Everything is fine down here. But, you know, anyone not busy with something life-saving or important like could really be of use down here. You know, fairly quickly. Now even. Crew. Passengers. Droids. Anyone with eyes and a set of hands will do. But everything is fiiiiiiiine. We are not going to have a problem. Ship is fine. We're all good. Mostly."

As he switches the comms system off he shrugs apologetically to Daal. "That could have gone better. I think the captain just might space me now. Better get the engine fixed before he does so you people don't crash and burn on reentry. Would hate for that to be the last thing I see as I die in vacuum. Do you know where the panel for the top access to the fuel capacitors is? If you do, start getting that open and unplug anything that looks black and burned. Unless you have a better idea for keeping us flying."

_________________

OOC: I hope this counts as incidentals! While he talks Massan is starting to prepare for his rather tricky Mechanics check, Which explains his distracted rambling request for help as his mind was on other things.

Popping his safety Harness off, Klyp mutters to The Trando Gunner;

"I am gonna see what's up in engineering. Call if there is something worth shooting."

Several cracks sound as he stretches from a long session in the gunnery well. Klyp chokes a bit on some smoke and starts to make his way to the Engine room.

Can't remember kark about machines, but it has to smell better there than next to Tall, Dark and Musky here.

As Prefect trundles toward the bridge Tion looks down at the translator box in his hand, the look on his face approximating that of a wounded Loth Cat. After a brief pause he gives a slight shrug and eyeroll - the universal body language for "oh well" - and buries the offending piece of technology deep inside one of his many pockets.

The ship lurches again and Tion struggles to keep his balance while Massan's voice crackles through the comm system. Making his living at being essentially a professional liar, Tion prides himself on being able to recognize piles of verbal Bantha poodoo and what he hears coming through the speakers, well, let's just say given enough time and care could very easily become an incredibly rich fertilizer.

The human punches the comm button and recoils as a spark arcs from the call button to his outstretched index finger.

"On my way Massan," Tion shouts into the panel, not sure it's even still working...doubting that it's still working. "Save something fun for me!"
After giving a final cursory glance over the cargo and satisfied everything will be fine, Tion bolts down the passage toward engineering. He occasionally slips on patches of grease and assorted other filth but thankfully stays upright the entire way despite the heaving Errand's best efforts.

Engineering's door struggles to open, grinding and complaining through all of it, and Tion's jaw drops at the true depth of their predicament. Showers of sparks, tendrils of smoke, and charred remains of what once were probably wires surround the sweaty Klatoonian. Off to Tion's right, he can see through the haze Daal doing something, presumably to help but it's impossible to tell through the chaos.

The human just stands in stunned silence for a moment before realizing Klyp has joined them.
"Massan, if we survive this, we need to have a chat about how we define things like 'fine' and 'all good,'" Tion says. "Now how can we help?"

Lynna watches as the power supply ratio to the port engine spikes sharply, the systems collapsing and excess power overloading fuses and power junctions. The klaxon squeals louder as this goes on, and she hurriedly works to recalibrate the power assignment.

System Recalibration: 1eP+3eA+1eD+3eS 1 failure, 6 advantage

The klaxons scream even louder, while the power regulators systematically blow out right down the engine nacelle. "That's really not good," Lynna says, as she struggles to wrestle the struggling ship back under control.

"Gorramit, Massan, what the heck are you doing to my ship?" Massan barely had time to register the Captain's presence before he felt himself being turned around. Moving the Klatoonian to the side, Trell moves to the terminal. "Gorramit, that was the same part we had scrounged up a few weeks back. This might be over your head, kid, being more into slicing computers and such. Now, move it and let an old timer show you some tricks..."

Moving around, Captain Trell moves to his cabin to get some gear.

[The Captain has an Intelligence 3 and Mechanics 2, and will be one of the three to help Massan on his next check. He can still be talked to for this round before he becomes busy for the next round of actions.]

Growing annoyed with the continued cacophony of the klaxons, Sting slams down the rest of the bottle of Corellian whiskey and wanders up to the flight deck passing the Captain in the corridor. Seeing Lynna struggling with the controls, he sits down next to her.

"Need a hand?" he says in Huttese.

Looking over the blinking lights on the console he throws toggle switches where the blinking lights are to help kill them as fast as they pop up.

OOC:

1 boost is from me passing the last roll and the other is for me taking extra time. . I will pass a Boot to Lynna directly for her next action

Edit: Re-rolled per Sarone

Sheed had barely finished nursing her head when...if the sounds the ship was making were anything to go by...things went from Bad to Worse.

As probably the least mechanically handy being on the ship (aside from the good captain, she thought sourly), Sheed figured she was the least able to provide Massan with meaningful help in engineering...and the three beings that rushed down the corridor in front of her berth attested to that. Still, she felt she needed to help.

She turned to go toward engineering, then hesitated...with the captain down there...who's at the helm with Lynna?

Shaking her head, she moved for the cockpit.

Moments later, she was greeted to the sight of electric chaos, with lights blinking in places she never realized ships had lights, and a noise that sounded worse than a space-sick Aqualish with a chest cold...

Not wanting to stand idle, but also not wanting to interfere, Sheed's instincts kicked in...when it won't help to act without thinking, think!

After his head bounces of the terminal, Edad sets about in a flurry of motion. Removing panels, pulling on wires, banging on circuit boards, all the typical things you do when trying to fix a ship that should have been sent to the junk yard years ago.

"Trell, this is a fine piece of machinery you have here...."

But if we unplug the black and burned stuff, it will most likely short out the hyperdrive, sublight engines, and the power routed to the main bridge. Same source as normal Daal adds, referring to his precognitive abilities. But, if we reroute the power before hand it might work. I'll try that. He then runs over to the auxiliary power station and tries to reroute the power there.

Amidst the chaos and unexpected appearance of the Captain, Tion took a deep breath and refocused on what he could do to help the situation. His lack of usefulness when it came to mechanics was clear, but disabling alarm systems was another story altogether.

He stepped back and nearly bumped into Daal, but deftly avoided the Ikotchi at the last second. If anyone had the time to pay attention to him, they probably would have mistaken his far away look as daydreaming. But his right index finger tracing through the air the route of conduit from the shrieking speaker to a nondescript box on the other side of the room would've tipped them off to a sketchy plan coming into sharper focus.

In a flash, he ducked under Massan's flailing hydrospanner and pressed himself against the wall to avoid an unpleasant encounter with Captain Trell all the while hurrying toward what he hoped was the klaxon controls.

Patting his pockets for anything to pry the lid off, he laid his hand on a duraplast card he'd lifted off a Duros spacer during a Mynock fight on Abregado-Rae. Though all the credits on it were long since spent, it gave him one last bit of help by popping the top off the controls just as the card snapped in two.

From there, shutting down the alarm was as simple as pulling three wires, using a metal fastener as a jumper between two plugs, braiding two additional wires and switching them from positive to negative to reset the system. He then put everything back in its place and carefully reattached the cover. Textbook alarm defeat, really.

His efforts were rewarded by glorious, blissful silence as the final alarm echoes disappated throughout the ship.

Tion exhaled and said a silent thanks that the klaxon system hadn't been updated in the ship's 30-year history.

"Maybe we'll all be able to think and work a little better without that constant din, yeah?" Tion said aloud, not really to anyone in particular.

His shipmates continued to work furiously, mostly ignoring him, but he at least got a grunt out of Klyp, which Tion took as a good sign. Sensing he might be more in the way than anything else at that point, he stepped into the hall and waited for anyone to let him know if they needed more assistance.

OOC My successful roll:

Silencing the klaxons: 3eP+1eB+2eD+1eS 3 successes, 1 advantage

Hearing the klaxons stop, Trell, lets his shoulders sag and closes his eyes, letting a sigh out. Letting the moment past, he walks out his cabin and through the cargo bay, seeing Tion messing with the master warning system. A hard look from the Captain to Tion made it quite clear that he now just as annoyed with the gambler. "That's coming out of your pay. Thank you for silencing the klaxons, though."

Making his way toward engineering, he looks at Massan and shakes his head. "That **** gambler of yours just added another chore to your list. Between that and everything else, you all are causing me quite a bit of heartache. At this point, I'm beginning to doubt you guys are worth the price of being put on a tramp shuttle."

In the bridge, as Edad takes the grate to the sensors terminal off, he feels a hand on his shoulder. Looking up, he sees the Trandoshan staring down at him, hissing at the Duros. Standing behind, Prefect tilts his head, looking at the offline sensors terminal, the Duros, then at the Lynna and Sting.

"Hmm, seems like the Captain should have just hired more droids instead of offering you and your friends jobs on the ship. I have always mentioned to the Captain that droids and trained personnel would be a better use of resources. Instead, I now have the dubious honor of witnessing the potential end to my existence because of rampant incompetence. By the say, Traveler, have you thought that turning the system off and back on might help?"

A quick glance at the terminal, and it dawns on Edad that it is a programming and transmission issue, not mechanical. Kayne offer his hand to help Edad up, while the tactical droid stand by and watches.

[New round of actions! Sonovabith has taken for his action of disabling the master warning/alert system. While that does negate the Klaxon environmental, it needs to be repaired at a later date.]

[Captain Trell is heading back to the engineering bay, but can be interacted with until Massan rolls. He will not be available next round for interactions as he will be helping Massan and/or cleaning himself up.]

[Prefect is in the Bridge area and has Computers 2 and Charm 2. He can be used to provide assistance to one character for the action round.]

Massan is getting more and more frustrated, and the klaxons are not helping. When they finally shut off he sighs and smiles a little. “Finally something going my way.” He thinks to himself. As the captain shakes his head the fat Klatooinian gives him an incredulous look.

“Look, Captain, I’ll take the blame for what I do, but I never even met the guy until you hired him. How does that make him mine? As to a new chore, I take it that has something to do with the klaxons. So I’ll add it to the list. And I never tried to deceive you when you hired me. I told you I was good with machines. I also told you this was the first time I stepped on board a Gozanti.”

Massan blinks, uncertain where that came from. When he was a slave this sort of talking back to a superior would have gotten him flogged or beaten. Perhaps he was getting more and more used to being a free person.

The Klatooinian looks around and realizes he has work to do. “Hey Daal, would you give us a hand here? And you, green guy, are you watching those screens?”

"Of course I karkin' am watching them. They keep saying "Everything is Wrong" but nothing you have told me to watch for has shown up."

Turning to Massan he says, "It is Klyp by the way." And hopes his name is lost in the klaxons.

Looking at the screen, he realized he is one over from where Massan originally pointed. "Ahhhhhh FFFFFF" he says to himself, as Klyp shifts to the proper display.