Ramani watches the young, scarred girl with feigned nonchalance. Young street-kids tend to have an over-inflated opinions of themselves and take any insults very personally. If they think they’re tough they tend towards blustering displays of machismo.

The girl, Eya, had not taken the bait. So what did that tell him? Not much, Ramani decides, but they do hint that she might either be a smarter-than-average street rat, or perhaps not a street rat in the traditional sense. Interesting. He will need to watch her. The Balosar fixer liked people he worked with to fit into specific categories. That made them easier to deal with. When someone defied easy categorization he tended to become obsessed with finding out why.

Ah, well, Ramani thinks to himself as he eats the other half of the pastry. If the two pirates he is trying to swindle out of goods or credits at the moment want her around he will get more time to get a read on her. And he needs to get that read to determine what she’ll do if he finds an opportunity to get the better of the furry and the core-worlder. Would she agree to a little creative redistribution of wealth, or take umbrage and get difficult? It is something he will need to factor into his plans for sure.

Not that he has much of a plan at the moment, since he needs more details. Bah. Ramani is always at his best when he's improvising. Nobody has time for elaborate plans and devious shenanigans when he has less than a hundred credits in his pocket.

Busy as he is, thinking about his future prospects, he totally misses the droid passing by and is rather confused when Solan mentions that he thinks he saw a battle droid. A battle droid? As in a single battle droid? Didn’t they used to come in sets of a thousand? Tens of thousands? Ramani shudders. While wars are very good for business, they add so much uncertainty and chaos. He doesn’t miss the war, unlike some others in his line of work. There is plenty of profit to be made during peacetime too.

When the Togorian asks if he had a place in mind, the Balosar fixer shrugs. “As I said, I’m new here. If you want to talk at the hotel that’s fine with me. Or we could go to where you have the merchandise and we can talk there. Makes no difference to me.”

As he speaks, he notices Solan tapping away on his link. Grrowv seems annoyed and mentions a Devaronian. “Well, if the buyer is ready we can work on the terms. But first I need to know what I’ll be selling him.”

Shy Ion, you're not the only one failing those rolls! They were on the difficult side, but not really life-or-death type rolls. We sort of suspect nobody would tell anybody the whole truth anyway, and we rather expect them to be carrying weapons, so a few successes would have been nice to confirm, but I'm acting under the assumption that they are hiding something, just like Ramani is hiding the fact that he hopes to somehow find the chance to swindle them out of their credits!

"What say I?" the Clone asks as way of buying time. Blast it... Bloody business deals needing bloody guns I bet. But passage off this rock before I waste another day is probably worth it. Taking the outstretched hand and moving it to his chin, Crow stroked it, pretending to be musing over the options. Worst that happens is I have to act tough in front of some low life criminals, make sure they don't try anything while this guy does the job. "Alright," he decides, "You've got yourself another pair of hands."

Looking the Devaronian over, Crow notes all the eccentricities and unique aspects of the man. Standard looking, for his species, with large horns protruding from an angular head. Narrow jaw, pointed teeth. Light red, more like an off-pink, skin tone. Long coat, likely holding more than just that comm. Seemed to carry himself with an air of command. Wouldn't be easy to get around this one, if things went sideways. "As for your condition, you can bloody well forget that," Crow continues, "I'm not the kind of man you can order around, and if you try to... Well, you'll see why we Clones have the reputations we do."

Hopefully the man would take this threat as it was intended, a reminder that a Clone off a leash was much better than one tethered.

Ok, let's see how we go on this Coercion check... I don't fancy my chances!

Coercing the Devaronian : 3eA+2eC 1 failure, 2 advantage, 1 Despair

Welp... It was nice knowing you guys...

The sounds of a particularly angry Trandoshan and a triumphant Barabel boomed in unison with the faint echo of sublight engines kicking to life from the port across the street. Embeetoo sat on the gizka leather stool, dipping his bayonet over and over again in the powerful booze and wiping the carbon scoring off the barrel of his Dragoon.

"Bar Ally" he began again, "you assume I wish ill will on everyone. Just because I am a former Separatist does not mean I wish to jab my blade into his throat while unleashing a barrage of death from my barrel. The war has been over for years ,yes, and I believe in the end the Separatists came out victorious in spirit or at least the ones that survived and escaped nationalization though the old times do not bother me". The 'rusting hunk of metal' turned to his oil can and began to generously touch up his right arm joints. "I prefer to dwell and reflect on nostalgia, not try to live it out. I may have pre-programmed urges, but they are for the most part repressed. I do not primarily wish to harm the stem bank, unless he shoots first of course".

Esh's old Kath, Vulpa, began to stir for a bit before resting a paw on the droids mechanical pseudofoot. "I must admit, I am grateful for what you have done Bar Ally. But let us face facts, information regarding my target has gone dry, true soldier work has gone dry, there are no mechanics willing or skilled enough to help me with my problem, and frankly the loss of Grazitul on fanfar has taken away a certain charm from the band. The clone would, must, have work worthy of a real soldier and I cannot sneak aboard another freighter realistically". Embeetoo was almost certain that the dock workers took pity on him last time...to Chaos with them. "Perhaps this one has passage so long as they do not harbour any unnessisary grudges. War is war, you hate the enemy with your being yes but he is no longer the enemy". His fist scrapes as he clenches it, causing a Chadra-fan to back away slowly to the next stool. You better run, he's taken out bigger rats.

"You talked about a girl, do you have a description? Was there anything odd about her that I might use to track her whereabouts?" He might have missed the clone, but the girl might lure him right in the open. It was risky, but it was better than staying on this "bright jewel".

Oh, look, more Despair. This should be interesting. XD

The Shy Ion has just messaged me to confirm they are waiting for the next post - just in case anyone worries I've missed Eya's input.

Torin:

Nice work on that Negotiation! Aril can see Torin (or Dorn) is a savvy businessman in his own right.

Walking towards the door to the office, the Sullustan nods as he passes the Kel Dor. "I see, yes. I want growth for business, of course," he says as he opens it to peek out into the store, checking the goings on in his absence. Some customers have come in, but his employee is doing what is required to keep the place running. "What say I agree to new pricing, say fifteen percent less than normal," Aril turns back towards the Kel Dor as he speaks, "This way, no tax costs for Mr. Keev, but I retain margins for profit. Is it deal?"

"Also, there is matter I have want of someone with skillset of yours. Perhaps this day becomes many fortuitous for you? Only involve meeting with a droid I know of."

- - - - - - - - - -

Ramani and Eya:

After a short walk towards the spaceport, Solan strides out in front of the group, checking both ways before trotting across the street and into a hotel. He indicates for the others to follow him, and Grrowv holds open the door to the foyer to let them in. Giving a cheerful wave to the concierge, Solan presses the call icon for the turbolift, with a small bell announcing its arrival a moment later. Stepping on, the Corellian hits the button for the fourth floor. "We have something of a middling accommodation, but it is private," the huge Torogian comments as she steps into the lift, behind Eya and Ramani.

The doors close and within seconds the turbolift reaches the fourth floor. Solan leads again, heading to the right as he exits the lift. Horrid carpet patterns the floor in a design reminiscent of impressionist painting, and to look at it would give most species a headache. With Grrowv bringing up the rear, the group arrive at an off white door, where Solan produces a keycard and swipes it past the security scanner, allowing the door to slide open. The inside of the hotel room thankfully does not have the lurid carpet, instead a rich green, almost forest color, decorates the floor. The walls are an off white, matching the door, and there are two large beds. A small table and chair sit in the corner, under the long window that allows the mid-morning light into the room.

"Well, here we are," Solan says brightly, taking a seat on the edge of one of the beds, "Now, shall we talk logistics?"

Grrowv leans against the wall beside the refresher entrance, her bulk almost blocking the whole passage. "Just as long as you keep it concise, Solan. Short sentences. Facts only!" she half growls. It would be hard to discern if she was growling to stress the seriousness of her request, or if she simply sounds like that when telling the Corellian what to do.

"Yes, of course, my dear feline!" responds Solan, "So. We have come into possession of some rather high caliber weapons. Rifles that, while expensive, cannot be sold to ordinary sources. However, we are lucky in that a black market merchant named Chak T'Vont is in town on business; the kind of business we can edge in on. This is the Devaronian we mentioned." Solan leans back on the bed, pulling one of the pillows to rest under his arm as he reclines. "Chak is scheduled to leave the main port in a couple of hours, his ship laden with all manner of merchandise and headed for the Outer Rim. We have it on good authority he is short some items. So we hope to sell our find to him."

Grrowv, who has been listening quietly as Solan explains, then speaks up, "We also know he travels with two unpleasant Trandoshans. Now, while I don't expect trouble, we know Chak by reputation. If someone tries to cross him, he will deal with it accordingly. Don't try to back talk him, don't try to intimidate him, none of it will work, he's too well connected to be afraid of someone trying to act tough." She flexes an arm, either as way of reminder that she is one of the tough types mentioned, or simply needing to stretch her shoulder. "If things do get... Complicated, I hope we can expect you two to handle yourselves?"

"And as for payment," Solan cuts in, sitting upright again, "I can promise you a fair split of twenty-five percent if he buys at the right price. How does that sound?"

Of course, you can negotiate the price to better suit what you had in mind. Or, if you want to "Ramani" these two, feel free to start wrapping them around little fingers. If you can, that is. To better fit the more nuanced dynamics of this, message me or post OOC here with what you want to say, and I will assign the Boosts and Setbacks based on the wording and style you mean to employ.

- - - - - - - - - -

CR-0216:

The Devaronian's eyes narrow to slits. He steps forward, standing right up to Crow, his faces inches from the Clone's. "What did you just say? Did you try to threaten me? You either apologize for that insolence immediately or you'll find out why I have a reputation. One that you must be very ignorant of." From across the open area of the port's main hall, one of the Trandoshans spots this exchange and taps his companion on the shoulder, gesturing to the event. They both walk over, very casually, so as not to attract attention to the scene.

A Despair! Oh dear. I can see why you went for Coercion, what with Crow's history and also the dice being marginally more favorable. It's just that a Despair when trying to Coerce is a lot worse than when trying to Negotiate. The good news is, you got two advantage, meaning you have a chance to salvage the situation if you think quick, primusnine!

- - - - - - - - - -

Embeetoo:

"I don't assume that," the old Arcona sighs, placing both hands flat on the bar and looking at Embeetoo, "I just don't want to see trouble brewing here because a B2 droid - regardless of how medically inclined you are now, and some old Clone go toe to toe in a crowd of people. I know you, but I don't know him. What if he flies off the handle and shoots first?" he asks, his voice laden with concern. He turns around, moving some glasses and bottles to wipe underneath them, before realizing he had tossed the cloth into the sink. Tek sighs, his shoulders heaving visibly, before he bends down to take a new cloth from a cabinet near the floor. It's clear his leg is paining him.

"Listen," he says, somewhat muffled from his lowered position, "I trust you'll look out for everyone's best interests, especially your own." Tek's angular head reemerges as he stands up again. "Just don't get yourself shot. You're a bucket of bolts, sure, but you're a good one." He resumes wiping under the bottles, his steady pace seeing the job done in a matter of moments, while Embeetoo continues to oil himself. "As for this girl... They say she arrived recently. Don't know a lot about her other than she's got scars that would put a pit fighter to shame. And that she's too young to have them. Last tidbit was... What was it?" the Arcona pauses, scratching at his arm again, "Oh, that's it. She's been looking for work. Goes to some of the cantinas sometimes. That's all I've got, Embee. She's too recent on planet for me to know much more."

- - - - - - - - - -

More stellar work, everyone. I apologize for the rolls! I was basing the NPCs around an outline of what dice each PC could use, and it seems they have not fallen in favor for some. Let's just hope luck swings back in the other direction!

Eya takes up a position where she can see the entrance, just out of habit. "'Complicated' is why I'm here," she says, tugging on the strap of her 'sports bag' demonstratively. She looks over at Grrowv, on the assumption that the felinoid is the more tactically competent of their two employers. "Any specifics on the Trandoshans?"

She doesn't ask about the price; she'll chime in if Ramani tries to cheat her out of her share, but she's no negotiator. Except, perhaps, in the euphemistic sense. Either way, she's content to be the quieter of the pair; after all, the less you say, the less you give away.

"Whoah, hey now mate, no need for all of that!" Crow says, keeping his voice as relaxed and quiet as possible. With the two Trandoshans looming over the Devaronian, the odds were not in his favor if anything broke out. As much as he'd like to sit the horned man down with a different kind of conversation, CR-0216 was bred to know when it was a losing fight. "My apologies if that sounded like I was threatenin' ya, I meant it like it's worse to think of me as a mindless asset. I'm much better if you let me act independently." He stops here, gauging the response of the very angry man. "Trust me, I don't want to start the trouble, if there is any. I just want to be sure I'm free to finish it, via means that'll keep you and yours out of harms way." And first bloody chance I get, I'll be out of your way...

Please, RP gods, have mercy on my poor clone! #prayforcrow

Ramani follows the odd pair to the hotel room, suddenly feeling rather apprehensive about the whole thing. What if they were lying about the goods and simply wanted to rob him and the girl? Well. If it came to that he could hopefully get the scarred teenager to put up a bit of a fight for long enough for him to haul ass out of there. Or let his Viper do the talking. Nope, still not cool. He needed to find a cool way to introduce his pistol into a conversation. That was phrase was not it.

When Solan outlines the business opportunity, the Balosar listens intently, training his antennapalps on the man as much as he dares without looking rude, trying to sense if the man is being straight forward about this little business venture or not.

“This sounds like the beginning of a beautiful business relationship between casual acquaintances that will go their separate ways after the deal is done,” Ramani begins, smiling amiably at the Corellian. “I need just a few more details. We need to speak quantity and quality. How many rifles, exactly. Is the merchandise new or previously loved? It matters quite a bit, obviously. As does the brand. If its old Separatist stuff it will go for a lot less than good-quality BlasTech stuff.”

He looks at Grrowv, who seems very tense. There was clearly more to the story than they were letting on. They had clearly stolen the weapons after the altercation they had described. Assuming that wasn’t just a lie, of course. Bah, as much fun as new business partners could be, there was always so much uncertainty.

“There is also the matter of the heat. I take it you didn’t come into the possession of the rifles by very legal means.” He holds up his hands . “Now, don’t mistake me,” he says, putting on a pious look. “I have nothing against the liberation of goods, as long as the intention is to give the proceedings to the poor and displaced. Like the four of us,” he grins broadly.

“I just need to know if we can expect either the corrupt local security force or, worse, local crooks trying to find out just what happened to those crates of weapons. Especially if those crooks are Black Sun. I don’t mind swindling the Black Sun, it's not as if they like me or anything, but it’s a bigger risk if they are involved.”

Ramani gives Solan an appraising look. “So, how much are you hoping your Devaronian friend will pay for your merchandise, and what is the absolutely lowest you would sell for? Those are the two numbers any negotiator needs to keep in mind before conducting business. What would make you happy, and what would be painfully low, but acceptable.”

He turns to face Grrowv, his face turning hard. “I don’t think a pair of Trandos’ will give us any troubles. I expect the girl has a veritable arsenal of stabby and shooty implements in that bag of hers, and the pair of you don’t look like people who shy away from a fight. As for me, well, I have a not-so little friend under my jacket that can put large holes into Trandos, if needed. I’d rather not, but in my line of work, sometimes you have no choice.”

Note that Ramani might think of himself as a bit of a conman, and he’d probably be decent in that role, the sad fact is that he’s not much of a planner. So while he thinks he’ll have the chance to swindle anyone and their grandparents, the fact is that his ideas about himself and what actually happen tends to be two very different things. Which is what I was trying to represent by outlining his thoughts. He is mainly a fixer, not a conman, but if he sees and opportunity to get rich while his new friends do not, he’ll be very tempted to take it.

I feel a bit more information is needed before Ramani tries to haggle the cut, so no dice rolls from me just yet.

Oh, and I echo what Primusnine said. #prayforcrow

"I will let Mr Keev know about our discussion. I think he'll be pleased. But only he can make the final deal..." Torin stared at Aril and reached out through the Force, trying to get a feel for the Sullustan.

"I'm interested in helping you out, what are the details?"

I'd like to try to use Sense to get an idea of Aril's surface emotions, is he excited about getting help, fearful or anxious, etc....

Sense Force Check : 2eF 2 Light Side, 1 Dark Side

So it activates successfully.

...Scars? A young girl, visiting cantinas? Could it be the same girl he saw sipping a mug of kaf? The same he thought looked familiar? Why would someone like that consort with clones, unless...

The Chadra-Fan had by this point scurried off to the port, obviously not liking the conversation he was hearing, looking to peddle some of his wares to a gullible tourist. Embeetoo, having oiled his joints amply enough began to twist his right arm, comforting it to make sure his joints were loose enough. He gave off a whirl and a buzz as the appendages snapped back into place. The Whipid leaned against the right wall, enjoying a tidal steak one of the patrons he had to drag off so generously left behind. On screen, there was a major upset as security rushed on screen, pinning the Gossam down and stripping it of an earpiece implanted behind it's head. Hissing and screeching came from the gambling hall, some claiming it was planted there to frame the Gossam while others were whining about the bet they just lost.

Embeetoo quickly purged the thought from his mind. All he knew was that the girl matched the description of a street rat he saw moments ago talking with Mr.Greasy, Mr.Slow, and the...Togorian. "If he does fly off the handle, make no mistake I will return, with a helmet under one arm and a new rifle for your wall". The scarred droid draws a bit closer, putting both of his arms on the bar. "Bar Ally, you keep tabs on those who owe...tabs...correct? I have reason to believe I have seen the girl you speak of, with the Togorian, the one constantly downing Rodian Blood Juri Juice and accumulating debt."

He tapped his glass as he said those last words as the Barabel returned triumphantly back to his post, a dried Savrip hand hanging off his proud neck. "Perhaps you need someone to go make a quick collection, this could fortuitous for the both of us." If he found the Togorian, he might get a trace on the girl...and if he found the girl he would make sure the clone would come to him. He knew there was a lot of risk involved, but he's a battle droid: rushing into danger and looking for the most efficient method was ingrained in his being. If he could get the girl to peacefully contact the stemmy, all the better.

Ramani and Eya:

Growwv nods her head slightly when Eya asks about the Trandoshans. "Yes," she says in a serious tone, "We know they were brutal enough that the Hunters Guild revoked their licenses. That should be all you need to know to prepare." She hesitates a moment, then moves to stand closer to the young girl, dropping her voice low, "Listen, if you're concerned about all of this, I understand. We really do only need more people there to look legitimate. I know Solan comes off like a laser-brained fool, but he is actually pretty good at what he does. Nothing will go wrong, so long as the Devaronian is reasonable."

Meanwhile, Solan engages Ramani in a detailed conversation about the weapons shipment. He speaks quickly, clearly excited about the prospect of a good pay day. "Fifty. And they are BlasTech. Model E-11s. You might know those as the ones carried by Imperial Stormtroopers. Which is why we are keen to move them on with speed you see." He leans forward, elbows on his knees at the edge of the bed. The Corellian's face lights up as he continues, "Of course we didn't come into possession of these by legal means! Unless you're an Imperial Commander or Moff, there's no way to get rifles of this type in that quantity. Sale price wise... They manufacture for one thousand credits, but I think we should aim for seven-fifty highest, and five hundred lowest. Don't want to sell ourselves short!"

"As for local security forces," Grrowv chimes in, her quiet conversation with Eya finished, "Corrupt or otherwise, we have greased the right palms in order to do business here. The individuals we took these from won't be a problem, at least not for the next few weeks. They infringed on the wrong turf, and we were happy to let the owners know," she laughs, her broad face earnestly smiling at the memory. "And let's hope we don't have to resort to the 'stabby-shooty' method for this deal, eh?"

"Speaking of which, the Devaronian replied. Wants to meet in thirty minutes," Solan interjects, jumping to his feet as he finishes reading the comm message. "Just enough time to get the crate from here, down to the port!" He turns and grabs the top of the duvet from his bed, throwing it and the sheet back to reveal a hidden storage compartment. Smiling at Ramani and Eya, he presses a button on it, unlocking the top and exposing a large crate within. "It does make for a poor nights sleep, what with the bed being so hard and all, but blast it if it's not the best hiding place!"

Grrowv moves over, assisting Solan in pulling the crate out. It looks very heavy, even with the both of them involved.

You are very welcome to assist them in carrying the crate. It will be an Athletics check against one purple if you both try to help, as it shares the load, or if only one of you wants to do it, leaving the other with their hands free, it will go up to two purples for that person.

- - - - - - - - - -

CR-0216:

Staring directly at the Clone Trooper for what seems like an age, the Devaronian does not back away. The Trandoshans idle behind him, one casting his eyes around the area for any threats, the other keeping his gaze fixed on Crow. Finally, after the tension reached such a palpable point the awkward Defel on the bench behind them was about to get up and leave, the horned alien exhales with a hiss and steps back a little. "You are extremely lucky I need another person for this deal," he says, his voice low and dangerous, "Otherwise you'd have wound up little more than an afternoon meal for the savrips. Watch your tongue, stay in front of the Trandoshans and follow me."

With that, he turns on his heel and strides off. The Trandoshans move behind Crow, one speaking with a sibilant sigh, "You almossst got blasssted, Clone. That'sss only the sssecond time I have ever ssseen him ssshow mersscy. Wouldn't pusssh your luck again." Then they nudge him forward, motioning for him to follow the Devaronian, who is a few steps ahead, sending a message from his comm.

You are an extremely lucky Clone today, sir. I consulted with friends over whether or not the Devaronian would take your lip and forgive it. He hasn't forgiven it, but we established he does need the extra muscle as he is nervous about this job. Great work on the reply! You saved your skin with the quick turnaround, while saving enough face to keep their respect-ish.

- - - - - - - - - -

Torin:

His surface emotions are a mix of happy he is going to iron out this deal with Keev, and excited about the potential to finally have some progress on this matter he is referring to.

"Matter is sensitive," Aril begins, "Need to convince specific droid to agree to some things. Droids hard to deal with. Especially this type." He pauses, his hands wringing in a clear sign of an internal struggle. "You know B2 series? Baktoid made, fought in Clone War as front line assault unit. Big!" he holds up his hands to illustrate, which of course does a poor job given his diminutive size. "Armored! But this one unique. Been here for some time. Refurbished, from what can tell. Advanced medical parameters! Want to know who did job, what parts used, huge market for refurbished droid! Imagine profit from becoming war machine into doctor unit?"

The Sullustan stops, gazing up at the taller Kel Dor. "You see now, I need skilled talker. One who can logic. Droid is known around area, not easy to deal with. Think can make work? I pay on success!"

- - - - - - - - - -

Embeetoo:

There is a distinct air of hesitation in the Arcona as he thinks. He turns to the menial jobs to buy time, checking levels of alcohol in bottles, moving dirty vessels to the sink, wiping small stains from the bar. Wandering back to Embeetoo, Tek huffs, "Look, she doesn't owe enough to go collecting via those means, and so far she's always paid her tab before leaving planet. But I can see you're serious about this. Serious enough to risk drawing attention."

Scratching his arm again, but catching himself doing it this and stopping, the Arcona levels a withering gaze at the droid, "You know, us sentient types would just go and ask them nicely. No pretense of debt or anything to start the conversation! Maybe you could just try that first? You'd be surprised how many Acklay you catch with honey. Just remember, you're a droid, one that looks exactly the same as the type that shot up the galaxy a few years ago. You're lucky Ord Mantell was out of that war, people here are more tolerant, or they just care less," he admits begrudgingly.

"Not that you need my permission, but you may as well go and check wherever you saw them last. If they've moved on, ask the people in the area. Faces like those should be easy enough to remember."

"I'm not worried," Eya says. She attempts a smile again, which looks as forced as the previous one. "I'll be ready if things go bad." She listens as the negotiations continue, then, when it's finally revealed, walks over to the crate. Heavy things... she can handle heavy things. She walks over to where the crate is being pulled, hooks her hands under, and lifts.

Let's lift this crate! : 3eA+2eD+2eF 3 threat, 4 Light Side

So the green dice decided to be mostly useless, but dear STARS the Force was with me. o_o

Spending three pips to gain three advantage (cancelling all that threat) and the last pip to get a success.

Embeetoo gave off another drone, only this much deeper and obviously annoyed. Sentience? Did it always boil down to such labels? True, complete sentience was one of many goals Embeetoo strived for...but what "Bar Ally" suggested was simply foolish. He, a so called "bucket of bolts", a droid responsible for the elimination of over 30 organics, 28 of them trained clone troops, was to waltz on over and start questioning organics about the whereabouts of a young lady? That's almost as bad as asking for the clone! No sane person would put anyone in the path of a walking talking plasma slinger!

Embeetoo had offered to collect debt for the Second, to give him an almost sure thing. Just because the Togorians pattern doesn't indicate her skipping her bill does that mean she may attempt to now. Nothing is certain, no organic can be fully trusted. This would be the quickest and most efficient method to accomplish both their goals and instead the bar keep wanted him to play detective?! He KNEW where she was...he could just take it from him. Embeetoo owed him no allegiance, he owed him no debt, it only made sense.

So...why wasn't he? Things were beginning to quiet down in the cantina; the grimy Trandoshan at the bar had seemed to have been paged and was walking briskly toward the port, the same as the Chadra-Fan. By God, he his anger was showing, and he didn't know why. Was it because he knew he wouldn't be able to ride the path he found best? Was it because this simple bar keep defied his wishes, that he would reject the most sensible route? Or, was it because Embeetoo knew he couldn't do anything about it.

It took a handful of seconds for the old droid to regain his composure, for his grip to loosen and his drones to cease. His anger could not be wasted on something he couldn't control.. he knew his negotiation skills were subpar to a fault, and that he couldn't act against his Ally no matter how much he wanted to. His protocol was still intact, his blaster was good only for self defense or if commanded by another. He realised how much he really needed a like minded individual, someone to help him achieve his goals of freedom, of battle, of revenge.

Yes, he hoped this clone would share his views, that he would know of work and know how to leave this dust ball. Hopefully, he could find someone, anyone, along the way willing enough and intelligent enough to break his shackles...so that he may break his makers neck. He had no other choice then, he would have just retrace his steps, perhaps she was still there. It was a stretch, but if nothing else it was what he had.

"Bar Ally, you're far too trusting, but I know your far too stubborn to listen to hard reason. You claim sentient beings would simply stride into the faces of others with a grin on their faces and ask politely? How long have you been on Ord Martell?" He gave off a hum, what many would mistake as laughter actually a gruff of annoyance.

He drew calmer, gently setting down his oil can and turning his back to the muscular old hunter. "I thank you anyway, Bar Ally". The information alone is worth more than credits, though credits you will receive when I return." Vulpa growled in annoyance as she rolled off the metal feet she found so warm and comforting, having plopped her body upon him during their discussion.

Focusing what anger he had left Embeetoo walked menacingly as ever to the exit, the warm air flowing over his metal face as he placed his hand upon the copper statue near the street, "If I return..."Bar Ally"".

Well, you've made a mistake here, old man... Crow thinks to himself, unable to keep the sneer from his own internal monologue. Straight into it with a nutter and his two armed thugs. Good work. All for a ticket to Coruscant? Could have waited until tomorrow. Keeping the pace set by the Devaronian, CR-0216 stays ahead of the Trandoshans, who are clearly watching him to see if he tries anything foolish. He gets the sense that there's another reason they are keeping him around, and he can't help but feel it's going to involve him getting the short end of the stick.

Turning his head slightly to look back over his shoulder, he asks, "So, you boys worked together long?" The more he learns about his new friends, before they come to the end of their short friendship, the better. And since he wasn't going to try his luck with the Devaronian, it might pay off talking to one of the two very large, very angry looking Trandoshans. Seems at least one of them spoke Basic, around all the extended hissing sounds.

Bless you, GM. I expected a blaster hole in his guts before we got one session in.

Ramani has never been good with math or bookkeeping. The spreadsheets, balance, taxes and algorithms have never interested him one bit. But getting the highest possible profit margin for himself from any deal has always come easy for him. The only question is, what trick to use this time.

He usually goes for one of two tactics. Play himself a little dumb to get in the good graces and make people more amiable to suggestions, or be professional but friendly to do the same. In this case he went with the former, since he didn’t want the odd pair to think he was too big a fish for them to mingle with, someone who would swindle them out of their profits, or even call his friends and rob them outright. He suspects that the second tactic will be required for the Devaronian, but that would come later.

He thinks a bit about the merchandise. Certainly those were high-quality carbines, not some cheap knockoffs. And 50 weapons was not that much credits to spend for the Devaronian and the profit margin was certainly very reasonable if he was heading out to the Rim.

Out there, people would only see quality weapons from a very reputable manufacturer, weapons built for minimal maintenance and maximum reliability. That would fetch a good price. Nobody would care if the weapons fell off the back of a speeder, or that Imperials would treat the users of the weapons with suspicion. Especially in Hutt space. So he could probably get at least a thousand for each of them, perhaps as much as twelve-fifty. That was a very reasonable profit margin.

So, Ramani is reasonably certain he can get a price well above the 500 minimum price, and perhaps even close to the 750. Perhaps 675 or 650 he thinks to himself. So how to maximize the profit from that? If he and scarred doll over there were offered 25% that would amount to 12.5 for him, which for minimum price would be just over 3,000 credits. If he could get the price to 650 his cut would rise to 4,000. Not bad, but certainly he could do better.

“This sounds very doable, but getting the best price will be the main challenge,” Ramani says, as if still thinking. “Here’s my offer. We stick to me and Eya here getting a quarter of the profits for our contribution, split evenly among the two of us. For the minimum price. So if I only get 500 a piece that’s all we get. However, if I do manage to sell for more than 500, anything above the 500 we split evenly among the four of us. Call it an added incentive for the pair of us to make the deal work out. Waddayasay?”

Before his new business partners can respond, he quickly adds. “Oh, and by the way, I’ll need the name of this Devaronian, and as much details as you have on him. Where in the Rim he's headed, who's on his crew, what type of ship he owns, his usual business and so on. You never know what gives you an upper hand in a deal.”

As the pair thinks about it they start pulling the crate out. Ramani deliberately takes this moment to check the messages on his comlink. There might be no messages, but they don't know that. And carrying a crate was not what he was hired to do. When Eya lends a hand and practically rips the crate up single-handedly his eyes go wide. “Whoa there, I get it now. Lots of cybernetics, right? That’s freaky in such a young girl, but I suppose you can lull people into a false sense of security just fine, even with your scars,” he muses.

I’m guessing you’d like a Negotiation check based on the above. May I suggest that a Charm check is in order first, opposed by the Charm/Cool of either of the pair, since Ramani is trying hard to worm his way into their good graces before starting negotiations? That way, successes, fails, advantages or threats on the Charm check can affect the Negotiation roll depending on how Ramani comes off to the pair of robbers.

It was your RP that saved you, primus. No need to thank me!

And Kymrel, the checks would be against their Cool - with some additions.

Charm - combined: as you have been schmoozing both = Three red. I would have added a setback for Grrowv worrying you're another Solan, but three red is enough there I think (also just realized I had Grrowv call Solan Ramani in that last post. Sorry for the insult! I will edit that now!)

Negotiation - just against Solan: Two red, one purple, but also add one Boost, as Solan at least thinks you are competent.

If Eya wants to pitch in, you can get a Boost for the Charm and a second Boost for the Negotiation.

Also, they've already let you know the Devaronian's name - " black market merchant named Chak T'Vont is in town on business".

Ah, throw in the setback on the charm check, I negate one anyway

So how about it, Shy Ion, will Eya be supportive enough of Ramani's effort to count as assisting? I'll hold off rolling until I've heard either way.

I'm afraid Eya's basically decided to ignore the negotiations. They sound reasonable; therefore, not her problem. Apologies. >_<

I figured that might be the case

So, a Charm check with 3 Challenge dice. Gulp. Well, thanks to my Congenial talent Ramani will take 1 strain to downgrade the difficulty once. That might help. And I'll flip a DP as well to upgrade my check once.

Charm vs new business partners : 2eA+2eP+1eD+2eC 1 success, 1 threat

Not bad, not bad. So. Ramani is weaseling his way to their good graces. Could be interpreted as if they understand his usefulness but wouldn't want to live with him. Can success on this roll make his life a bit easier on the Negotiation check? And what do you want to do with the threat, dear GM?

At the mention of a B2 battle droid Torin's right hand twitched and he immediately felt the weight of the lightsaber hidden inside his robes. He calmly placed his left hand over his right to try to calm himself.

"The War is over," Torin reminded himself silently. "They gunned down many of my clone friends and..." Torin's mind wandered and he recalled again the rumors he'd heard about clone troopers turning on their Jedi allies as traitors - blasting them down at the end of the war. Torin was unsure how much credibility to place in the rumors - he was away from his clone unit when the war ended so he escaped whatever killed off his Order - but the rumors had the feel of truth about them. Sadness and anger swelled up inside Torin.

Everything he'd placed his trust in and fought for had turned on him - the Republic, the clone troopers, and perhaps even the Force. He could feel the Force was out of balance. It was not common knowledge but the Jedi Knight ranks new that there was a Sith somewhere manipulating things. And the Jedi had failed, and it seemed the Force had failed the Jedi. "I will find a way of bringing balance to the Force," Torin told himself.

"Uh, Dorn," Aril had a concerned look on his face.

"Oh, sorry, I was lost in thought. I'm old enough to remember the Clone Wars...but the past is the past. This B2 sounds interesting. I'd be happy to help you in you track down and negotiate with this droid. Is now a good time?"

Ramani and Eya:

Alright... Shall we say that because Ramani is too obviously charming, they are a little wary that he may be trying too hard. That threat can represent their caution in dealing with him. Your choices can be either adding a Setback to the Negotiation (and if you cancel one, add another cause I'm mean!), but your charming nature will let you either choose to downgrade it once, or upgrade your dice once, or I will use the threat later at a crucial time (much like the Despairs!!)

"Thanks for the help, kid," Solan nods towards Eya as she pitches in to help with the crate. He awkwardly taps the button again to close the hidden compartment with his foot as the three carrying it wobble away. Grrowv sniffs in derision as his ungainly move, and he can't turn around to glare at her without dropping the crate. "Now it's just to the lift, and then the port. Easy!" the Corellian laughs, pulling the crate and the two women with it. As they move out of the room, he responds to Ramani, the laugh still in his voice. "You know, you really remind me of myself at your age, Ramani. Quick lipped and smart where it matters. Stick with us and you'll go far in the galaxy! Let's finalize the percentages on the walk to the port."

The group make it to the turbolift, and just as they're about to press the button the doors slide open, revealing a beautiful, if a little rigid, blonde human woman. She locks her piercing blue-eyed gaze onto the trio carrying the crate, then moves it over to the Balosar, assessing each in turn. This takes only a moment, and she steps off the lift and to the side, allowing the group to board. Her attire is simple, a white blouse and grey skirt, her hair tied back in a neat bun. She looks extremely businesslike, yet the way she stands seems... Odd.

Hitting the button for the ground floor, the doors close on the woman standing there and looking at each of them. Solan flashes her his best smile and a wink as she disappears from view. "Phew! What an omen! Seeing a beauty like that before going into a job has got to mean we're in luck today!" he exclaims, barely stopping himself from doing a small dance.

"Last time you said that, I had to break you out of a planetary marshal's holding cell, Zegg," Grrowv snaps back, "Besides, she was far too upstanding for you."

That same small ding sounds as the lift reaches the ground floor, Solan, Grrowv and Eya lugging the crate into the foyer. Setting her end down, the huge Togorian says, "Just a sec, I'll go borrow a repulsor lift, make this trip a whole lot easier!" before jogging off to the concierge desk. A moment later a droid janitor comes out with the small machine, and with its help the crate is positioned on it. Firing it up, Grrowv starts to push it out into the street. Solan follows her, commenting, "Were you making a joke about her bearing or me being scruffy looking?"

If you want to have the conversation regarding the deal in between all this, we can edit the posts once you've rolled, Kymrel. Shy Ion, are you happy with this stuff? You don't want to ask any questions or anything? Let me know.

- - - - - - - - - -

Embeetoo:

Tek Esh gives a small wave at the departing droid, before shaking his head and returning to his chores. Out in the street the late morning crowds are beginning to stir, preparing for lunch breaks or to find somewhere cool out of the sun. People near Embeetoo move aside as the approaches, not in the least bit keen to upset the hulking droid. Again come the dirty looks, some individuals clearly disdainful of the mechanical being, what with the B2 representing a dark time for the galaxy not nearly forgotten.

Otherwise the streets remain as they are, a bustling city never stops in motion or noise, after all.

You can ask around regarding sightings of Eya or Crow, Weedles. While they have both done what they can to remain off the grid, Worlport is the kind of city where rumors flow as easily as ale.

- - - - - - - - - -

CR-0216:

In answer to his question, Crow gets a jab in the back from a short barreled shotgun, concealed well enough by the small group of bodies as they walk. "Ssstop, Larrsk. Can't you sssee man is sssimply making conversssation?" the one who didn't prod him says with an edge in his hiss, "Pleassse forgive Larrsk, he isss not usssed to sssomeone being ssso forthright." They do continue to move the Clone forward as they speak, however, not slowing the pace one iota. A small distance ahead the Devaronian takes a right, passing beneath a sign reading Docking Bay 54.

The Trandoshans turn Crow as they reach the same intersection, following the passage. "My name isss Bhurrk, and of courssse you have heard my compatriot'sss name, Larrsk. We are cousssinsss, have been working together many yearsss now. You are obviousssly one of the lassst Clone Troopersss, yesss?" At a large bay door, the Devaronian inputs a coded number, his body blocking the keypad and rendering it impossible to see the code. The huge doors slide open, revealing a sprawling docking bay filled with crates of all sizes, a large ship and a loader droid moving the boxes onto it.

Pushing Crow forward again, the Trandoshans move faster towards the bay, not wanting to be locked out.

You are, of course, welcome to do a Knowledge or Mechanics check against two purple dice to determine what you know about the ship parked in Docking Bay 54, primus.

- - - - - - - - - -

Torin:

"You have bad thoughts of B2 model? Not to worry, this one special, no longer shooting everything!" Aril responds with a small titter of laughter, nervous in spite of his apparent calm. "Now is best time, yes! But, I must go back to normal day. Store get busy at lunch time. Girl can't handle alone." The Sullustan grabs a datapad from the desk, tapping on it quickly and bringing up a list of information on the B2 droid.

"Here," he offers, holding out the pad to Dorn, "You take. List of where droid goes frequently. Would suggest start with bar run by Tek Esh. Good man. Funny man too, if like dry humor," he laughs again, this one more at the fond memory of a joke told by this bartender, rather than the nerves of sending someone to talk to a war machine.

Congratulations, you have acquired the first piece of gear in this game! A datapad. On it you will find a list of information about Embetoo's hang outs, which I have all of ONE due to convenience! Weedles, feel free to OOC list some other places Torin may have on that list to look for your lovely droid - that'll make it easier for me and not railroad you two.

"So, we do deal for Mr. Keev today, and you bring droid back to me as soon as can, we do deal for that. I send Mr. Keev message at once, make sure he knows how good you are, what good asset you are to have!" Aril says excitedly, opening the door for Dorn to leave via. "I put comm number on pad, you call if droid agree! We make time for visit! Thank you for coming to see me today, and luck with negotiatings droid!"

- - - - - - - - - -

Well, team, if all goes not horribly we should have a meeting between all of you coming up soon! I appreciate the way everyone has been roleplaying and hopefully enjoying themselves so far! When the meeting occurs - or rather just as you all arrive - we will call it the End of Session One so I can award you all some experience points - because I don't want to starve my nice players from the goods!

Of course, if anyone wants to do anything else before this occurs, let me know. Rough timeline will probably play out like:

Ramani and Eya (and Solan/Grrowv) reach the spaceport and ready themselves for the deal.
Crow observes Chak T'Vont readying himself for the deal.
Embeetoo searches for Eya and Crow.
While Torin searches for Embeetoo.
The pair of them likely being led toward the port... With as little railroading as I can manage there haha!

Culminating in a much quicker set of posts and conversations due to everyone being in the same locale.

Any questions/thoughts/suggestions let me know. I am doing my best to keep things moving along at a good pace so we don't get bogged down with the party still split. All of you (well, sort of... Crow kind of got stuck) are free to wander and do whatever you want, of course! So is Crow, but it may involve some very fast talking or a gunfight... Despair and such, friend. Despair.

Annoyed, and with little information to go on, Embeetoo lugged himself towards the last place he had seen the girl, that grimy old kaf shop a few minutes down the road. Little did he know that the clone was just a few minutes away, across the street inside the docking port. The medic droid marches down the street, paying no attention to the spiteful and fearful glances he received. Why worry about something you cannot change after all? If they wanted to fear, let them fear, so long as they don’t stand in his way. There was no reason to ask these people anyway, the kaf shop the girl had visited would be an ample starting place for his hunt.

The droid soon reached the kaf shop, and to Embeetoo’s surprise it wasn’t as bad as he thought. I mean, it was in horrendous condition but he at least expected to see some sort of vermin scurrying around…besides a Chadra-Fan situated in the corner (how many Chadra-Fan are on this stinking planet?!). The décor was in decent condition but the kitchen looked like a herd of cannoks rampaged through. A lone middle-aged Ithorian manned the oven, obviously under quite the bit of stress as he erratically filled the patron’s pastry with some sort of lime green fruit filling. There was a Togrutan waitress ripping into one of said pastries as she poured the bitter smelling liquid into a cheap mug, and an overweight human sitting at the small counter which, along with the cramped and hectic kitchen, made up the miniscule “shop”, if you could call it that, while the dining area consisted of five or six outdoor tables and a splintered bench.

Embeetoo scanned the area for a few seconds, taking in the general area before approaching the countertop and bending a down a bit to meet the human at eye level. “Human male, I am looking for a young woman with a shaved cranium and a plethora of scars painted across her face. I know, for a fact, she was here within the last two hours at least. Do you have any information that may be, that is, worth my while?” He could tell the clientele were beginning to become nervous at the site of the worn soldier. The businessmen, still stuffing their faces with ,and ordering more, pastries while talking about whatever it is businessmen talk about (probably the source of the poor cook’s distress) were beginning to discolor quite quickly.

​As for locations Embeetoo has been known to visit , Ronin, I’ll go ahead and list a couple.

1. “The Crippled Kinrath”, the hunter/gambler bar run by Tek Esh (though you already knew that one). It’s about ten minutes away from the shop on foot. Be careful though, considering you are a Jedi and most of the hunters have no qualms about killing sentient life (like the Savrips) for sport and profit.

2. A mechanics shop run by a quiet but cautious Shistavanen. Embeetoo has gone there for more in-depth cleanings when the oil can will not simply do as he does not trust Aril do to a previously mentioned incident. The wolfman secretly produces and sells Muon Gold under the counter as well, and Embeetoo has been known to collect for him from time to time. That one is about two hours and ten minutes away on foot.

3. A third place would be around the Junkyards, specifically the southern sector. Most of the droids there are out of commission, the majority old astromechs. He has been known to rest there and collect his thoughts in the area from time to time, as well as scavenge spare parts needed for repairs. The distance there is up to you.

4. The last place he frequents would be a first aid vender right across the street from the port and a bit east from the pub. Due to his programming he is forced to restock on medical supplies when his stash has run down to a certain amount (though peculiarly that only includes the Stimpacks and Nullicane; he seems to buy the stimsticks outside of his protocol). This would be your safest bet, but considering the amount he has it might take weeks for him to restock. It’s owned by a Toydarian, related to the ones who perform in “The Crippled Kinrath”, and is nine minutes away on foot.

When Solan mentions that Ramani reminds him of a younger version of himself, Ramani grins, but inwardly he groans. This was starting to look a lot like a setup. If all they wanted was a pair of thugs, why not hire a pair of thugs? Why offer a large share of the profits if all he and Eya were to the two thieves was extra muscle? Somewhere deep in the back of his head, more alarm klaxons went off. It did sound more and more like he was being played. And he didn’t like to be played. Not one bit.

Outwardly, he pretends everything is fine. “So this is what the future has in store for me? I might as well shoot myself now,” he jests, laughing as he walks to the turbolift.

“Walking and talking incorporate one of the things I love to do and one of the things I do out of necessity. No prizes for guessing which is which,” Ramani replies with a good-natured wink.

“Well, hello there,” he whispers under his breath when he sees the blonde woman. The warning klaxons in the back of his head were getting louder and louder. She was dressed as a business woman but there was something about her that made him wary. It was now mid-morning. Why would a business woman, dressed for her job, be going back to her room at this time of day? Some of Ramani’s friends swore he could smell an enforcement agent a kilometer away. And he smelled one now. The question was, were Solan and Grrowv working with the woman or not. It seemed unlikely to him.

“You looking for a party tonight honey?” he asks the woman, who ignores him completely. He was expecting nothing less, but uses the occation to leer crudely at the woman, as if he’s checking her out. In fact his purpose is far less horny and far more professional than he tries to let on. Is she carrying a blaster there somewhere? Was there something odd about her? Ramani tries to memorize as much as he can to analyze later.

Downstairs, Ramani waits while Grrowv fetches the repulsor lift. “Hey, I’m not sure that broad was just a pretty face. Dressed up all like a business woman but somehow returning to her room this time of day. I think we had better keep an eye out here. She might be with the local law enforcement.”

The woman has both me and Ramani spooked. Is there any check I could make to see if there is something odd about her? A concealed blaster, earpiece or similar? The fact that she stands like she is ready for a fight, or something? A Perception check perhaps?

Alright... Shall we say that because Ramani is too obviously charming, they are a little wary that he may be trying too hard. That threat can represent their caution in dealing with him. Your choices can be either adding a Setback to the Negotiation (and if you cancel one, add another cause I'm mean!), but your charming nature will let you either choose to downgrade it once, or upgrade your dice once, or I will use the threat later at a crucial time (much like the Despairs!!)

Please do use the threat later at a crucial time, I like the RP aspects of that much better! I'll choose to upgrade my check once.

So, the Negotiation check, I'll downgrade the difficulty again for another point of Strain making it a DD C check.

Negotiating for the cut from selling rifles : 2eA+2eP+2eD+1eC 0 successes, 2 advantage, 1 Triumph

Hm. Interesting. So, not a success on the check, but a Triumph and a couple of advantages.

I'll assume Ramani chats about the cut during the walk.

Sure thing, Kymrel. Go ahead and throw up a Perception check in your post - difficulty of three purple with a setback for the limited amount of time you had available to scope out the businesswoman.

And I will be happy to use that threat later! Enjoying how much Ramani is second guessing all of this! I must be doing something right if you're having this much internal dialogue with him!

Sure thing, Kymrel. Go ahead and throw up a Perception check in your post - difficulty of three purple with a setback for the limited amount of time you had available to scope out the businesswoman.

And I will be happy to use that threat later! Enjoying how much Ramani is second guessing all of this! I must be doing something right if you're having this much internal dialogue with him!

What I'm trying to go for with Ramani's suspicions is the fact that he has lived in the cutthroat-environment of a criminal syndicate. And when you are constantly thinking about how to get the better of others, and how you could betray them (regardless of if you actually follow through) if makes sense to think that others are up to more or less the same!

Perception checking out the businesswoman : 2eA+1eP+3eD+1eS 1 failure

Meh. So he didn't spot anything that confirms his suspicion...