I will be editing this into a post in the next couple of hours. IRL group was complete insanity yesterday. I am still recovering from the long term ramifications of what they wrought. It has also given me ideas. Evil, terrible ideas!

EDIT - Sorry, I was held up. Here we go, new post follows below!

I know that feeling. I'm running an Imperial game right now, and it's very sandboxy. The premise is basically "you two and your tiny ship are pretty much what remains of the Empire. Figure out how to take over the galaxy." We gamed for six hours on Sunday. That's... a lot, on our MUSH. It was a great first session, though. The PCs are a Sith apprentice and an ex-Jedi who was in the process of defecting when things went down.

Basically, the experimental hyperdrive malfunctioned, and they arrived seventeen years later than they should have. In the meantime, the Empire... lost. Oops. (The time period is somewhat undefined, but around 50-100 years after the hypothetical end of SWTOR. Pitching out whatever else is supposed to have happened there, of course.)

So what did the PCs do? They went to Korriban.

I should have been expecting it, but I wasn't. Honestly, I was sort of expecting them to stay away from Korriban until the endgame, but then they went and made it their first stop. Worked out, though, and I'm pretty sure what their current plans are now. (They're after Rakatan artifacts, because... well, it worked for Revan, right? Aside from the amnesia thing.)

*coughs* I'll... stop babbling about my new game now. Apologies.

You can babble! I do love hearing about other people's games and what they get up to and into. I hope I can deliver something as fun as that sounds!

CR-0216, Eya and Ramani:

With a flick of the wrist as natural and quick as Ramani's, the Devaronian named Chak T'Vont takes one of the proffered death sticks, keeping his eyes on the Balosar as he does so. "You do presume... But I appreciate the flattery," he replies, pocketing the drug before continuing, "And I also appreciate someone who likes to get business done." He strides to the crate, imperiously looking at the contents and giving the slightest hint of a nod in approval.

"Well," the horned alien hums, "They are top quality. It's nice to see people are still flogging the Empire's resources when they can. And they will undoubtedly do well enough on the Rim." Pausing here, Chak takes a good, long look at Ramani, then Eya, where he lingers a little too long, then Solan, and finally Grrowv. "What a wonderful menagerie you have here, Mister Fenn. It makes me regret the company I keep."

Turning back towards the ship and pacing, the Devaronian strokes at his chin for a time, keeping silent. Finally, he stops and spins around to face Ramani again. "Tell me, did you disable the tracking beacon on the crate before you brought it here? You do know every Imperial shipment is marked, yes?"

Beside Ramani and Eya, Solan lets out a small groan, only audible to the pair of them, and Grrowv of course, though her reaction is more akin to a hiss.

One of the Trandoshans looks towards the dark skinned human standing off to the side of the docking bay, his scaled expression impossible to read from the angle he is at to the main party of bodies.

Ramani and Eya: may do a Knowledge or Mechanics check against 2 purple to determine make/model of the ship parked beside you.

Ramani: please go ahead and give me a Charm check against 2 red, 1 purple and 1 setback. Then a Deception check if you want to lie about the crates being tracked or not, against 3 red and a setback. Those of you who can put things together may link a certain tracker to a certain individual you passed earlier.

Eya: please roll me a Perception or Vigilance check against two purple, you may choose based on how she would react to noticing subtle clues about the way people move.

Crow: Also a Perception check, but yours will be against 2 red, 1 purple, as you have a large tableau to take in.

- - - - - - - - - -

Embeetoo:

The Togrutan simply nods, stoically, as Embeetoo thanks her and advises she pray. As the droid returns to the street, crowds part as normal to avoid him, some noticeably perturbed by the sight of a B2. Once inside the port, people do not seem to pay him as much heed, due to the abundance of large droids loading and unloading cargo or otherwise shuffling about, guiding tourists or providing protocol services.

Above Emebeetoo's head is a large, glowing holoscreen of arrivals and departures, as well as a list of free docking bays. A small astromech unit, red and white in color, comes up to Embeetoo and beeps slowly, binary language sounding off in a way the B2 would understand. "Why here? Not battlefield. Designation: Battle Droid, not loader. Why here?" it echoes the first question.

- - - - - - - - - -

Torin:

As Torin approaches, the droid he has spotted suddenly takes off inside the port. From where the Kel Dor is, he can spot a smaller droid roll up and engage the larger machine in some form of a dialogue. People simply stream around the pair as waves parting around rocks.

I've kept this simple for you two - just so we don't delay the pair of you getting into the party (the group, not the crazy stuff that is about to go down).

Ramani smiles when the T‘Vont refers to his menagerie. “Yes, I’m too kind hearted for sure. I keep picking up strays,” he says, laughing easily. This T’Vont fellow isn’t his type. To suspicious. Too ... on edge somehow.

The Balosar fixer is just thinking about how the galaxy would be a better place if everyone just managed to relax a little and have a little faith in each other and just get down to business when the Devaronian mentions a tracking beacon. Suddenly the reality hits Ramani like a stun baton to the face. The woman. The pretty woman in the hotel. She was there for them. Or for the crate of weapons at least. Why, oh why won’t he learn to trust his gut? He should have cut his losses and ditched the two idiot smugglers when he saw her. Just walk away, why is that always so hard? His greed would get him killed. Or worse, sent to Kessel.

All this goes through Ramani’s head in an instance. He tries to play it cool. Perhaps there was still time. Time enough to unload the weapons and slink out of there before the by now almost inevitable raid. Just accept the opening bid, walk away and let Solan take the credits and try to get out before the Imperials could mobilize. Yes, yes, that was it.

Ramani feels like screaming when he hears Solan groaning. That does confirm that the tracker wasn’t disabled. He looks at the two smugglers. “What does he take us for, rank amateurs?” Ramani laughs a little, perhaps less convincingly than he would have hoped for. He looks back at the Devaronian. “Clearly the first thing my friends here did when they took possession of the crate was to check the tracker. Fortunately for them, the previous … eh … handler, made it very clear he had already taken care of that little inconvenience.”

He’s not buying it, he’s not buying it, he’s not buying it , echoes through Ramani’s head. What now? Get shot by a bloody Trandoshian or a clone before the Imperials even get here? No, he would have to appeal to the Devaronian’s greed.

Before the horned alien responds he walks closer to him, thinking partially about getting closer to the ship, and the service exit on the airlock behind the vessel, and quickly adds: “So, as I said, 50 rifles, let’s say 550 a pop to start our hopefully long-lasting business venture off on a positive note, tell you what, call it 25 thousand and we’re good.”

Even as he says the words, he knows any chance of a deal is dead in the water. Why did he agree to work with such rank amateurs that didn’t even bother disabling the tracker on the merchandise? What does a Balosar have to do to get reliable people these days?

Resigned to his fate, Ramani waits for T'Vont's reaction. He is careful to stay out of reach, in case the alien resorts to violence, but close enough to give the heavily armed clone or the two Trandoshians pause before shooting him so close to their boss.

For all he knows, the Imperials could be running down the corridor right now. Just getting to the door. The smooth-talking fixer is already trying to formulate how he’ll wiggle his way out of this one if the Imperials deem him worth taking alive. He slowly lets his antennapalps slink into the mess of hair on his head. Perhaps if the stormtroopers thinks he’s a human they’ll try to take him alive? After all, he’s just an innocent pawn in this mess, someone who made a simple introduction thinking the crate contained legal merchandise. Someone who is about to call the authorities when the troopers barge through the door? Was that too much? Nahh…..

Oh boy!

Let‘s start with the ship. Not exactly Ramani‘s strong suit. For him, a ship is a vehicle with various levels of comfort that you use to get from A to B. You didn‘t specify which Knowledge skill you want, I‘m assuming it would be Education. Certainly not Underworld, which is the only Knowledge skill Ramani has.

Knowledge check for recognizing ship : 2eA+2eD 1 success, 1 advantage

Huh. Well look at that. He‘s been on a ship like that before, I should think.

Hopefully you don‘t mind me using the advantage there for a boost on the next check, the Charm check. It is easy to explain, the Devaronian is flattered when Ramani mentions his lovely ship, recognizing that it is a particularly stunning example of the type. If you don‘t want me to use the advantage for this, we‘ll just ignore the results of the boost.

Using the Kill with Kindness talent Ramani ignores the setback, his congenial nature overcoming the Devaronian‘s suspicion. And speaking of congenial, I‘ll use the talent by that name to downgrade the check once, at the cost of another strain. At this rate Ramani will be exhausted on the floor once the stormtroopers arrive…

Charm vs Devaronian : 3eA+1eP+1eB+2eD+1eC 0 successes, 5 advantage

Well, that‘s not as nice. One of the advantages will be used to give Ramani a boost on the upcoming deception check. If I can use three advantages to recover strain that would work very well. The last one, I don‘t know. Could I use it to notice a single important point in the ongoing encounter?

And now for the Deception check. Ramani will, of course, lie through his teeth, hoping to unload the box and get out of there before any Imperials, for example a pretty woman he‘s now very sure is an Imperial customs agent or even intelligence agent, get there and make his life less pleasant than he likes it.

The Plausible Deniability talent gets rid of the setback, and Ramani will take one strain to downgrade the difficulty once with the Congenial talent. I‘ll also flip a DP to upgrade the roll. I‘ll need it. Let‘s see how that goes…

Deception, of course we disabled the tracker! : 1eA+2eP+1eB+1eD+2eC 1 failure, 2 advantage

Whhhhaaat? The tracker? He he, of course we totally disabled that

So the only good roll was knowing the ship type. Awesome. This isn't going to have a happy ending…

And is it wrong to be a little annoyed that the boards sensor the word d a m n?

Eya goes very, very still.

There's a tracker. Of course there's a tracker! The Imperials put trackers on everything—she'd had to dig out her implanted one with her own knife, and that had certainly been an experience. But those—those idiots over there hadn't bothered to look. And now the Empire was going to find her.

No—an Imperial team was going to find her. She bites her tongue hard enough to taste blood, shifts her weight to feel the hard metal of the knife in her boot. Frowns, when Ramani starts babbling—though her thoughts are going as fast as his voice. Maybe faster.

The woman at the hotel—obviously after the crate, then. She'll be close behind, if she was following, and she'll probably have a team with her. Eya's frown deepens. They'll find her. But they won't be prepared for her, will they? All she has to do is make sure the information doesn't get back.

And now Eya is panicking. Because of course she is.

Mechanics or Knowledge, it's two green no matter what : 2eA+2eD 3 failures

And she has no freaking clue what kind of ship that is.

Edit: Accidentally posted this in Clone Wars topic. Hi Shy! I have been reading those since we started RPing together. Hope the grumpy gets worked out quick, I am enjoying Dera's character.

Quick question! Can the E11s be used by the party in the advent of a gunfight?

And second question! Did Ramani's check include Crow or was that just for Chak? I am betting on being able to hear the statement about the tracker.

Reading other RPs, primusnine? Are we not good enough for you?! There's just no pleasing some people!!

Hehe, no, I do it too. Often on a second monitor at the office so I have something to read that isn't dry and boring...

In answer to your first question - Yes. Any equipment that is introduced in the game can be used for its intended purpose and any creative ones you can come up with. Of course I won't be throwing missile tubes around like confetti, but since there is no loot system in the game as such, you can also feel free to pitch (via use of Light Side points) certain items for situations as they arise that you would feasibly find in the area.

And number two - You can play that one as you wish. It was more a quick thinking, or fast talking, reaction check from Ramani. Still working out what to do there too. You would certainly be able to hear the conversation, unless anyone specifies otherwise; such as Solan's small groan.

As Embeetoo marks his arrival to port, the first thing he notices is the mass amounts of labor droids, churning and lifting away the rest of their synthetic lives with mundane, droll tasks unfitting of the lowliest citizen. The hunk of metal thanked whatever deity would listen to machines that he too was not tethered to such a fate, that the B2 unit at least had some shred of freedom (no matter how limited it may be).

He noticed the flickering holoscreen flittering above his cranium, his next obstacle. It would not be simple to find the exact port the scarred one and the loud one were lingering inside, but he would find out even if he had to go so far as to check each dock one by one. More than likely, they were located in one of the claimed ports, and considering the look of her human companion it would most likely be pretty detached.

As he pondered his next move, Embeetoo felt the nudge of something…metallic? He peers down to see a short and stubby astromech next to his stimstick dispensing leg, trying to communicate. Why was it speaking Binary in such a slow and drawn out tone? Did he think the battle droid wouldn’t understand him? Of course he would, even if he had been a basic model he could have made out the astro’s speech without a worry. More than likely, it was due to some long held prejudice regarding a battle droid’s intelligence…well he was no mere walking turret. He had worked with the droid’s kind before while guarding medical supply freighters on Duros, and Embeetoo knew his mental aptitude was eons above.

D-MB2 bends his torso a bit as to loom over the stub, speaking flowingly and fluently in Binary as to shatter whatever kind of mental superiority the mech might have, “I am merely here to search for a soon to be associate, astromech. You may have seen her, yes? Young, female, scarred, human, accompanied by a human male: human, male, loud, smuggler type”. He let the information sink in for a deca-second before remembering the other two at the table earlier: the togorian and the balosar. “They may be in the company of two more: one togorian, female, broad shouldered, stoic and the other a balosar, greasy, male, dreadlocks… greasy. Have you seen such organics?”
He hoped the little one saw something, or would know who would. From what he knew of astros, they were a clever lot.

​

No Kymrel, you are not the only one.

Maaaaybe. I don't have that much of a wandering eye... Just interested in our awesome friends' writing!

Perception of the hangar scene : 2eP+1eA+2eC+1eD 1 success, 2 advantage, 1 Triumph

Dammmmnnn I am not getting a triumph to another year now. What do I notice with this?

Narrowing his eyes against the light filtering in from the midday sun, CR-0216 watches the group of smugglers, or criminals, wasn't it all the same? After his initial quick movements the Balosar seems to slow down, except when he talks. Good grief the boy has a tongue. Slow up now... Don't dig the hole any deeper. The Clone looks relaxed, for the most part, military rigidity is still a part of his nature, and the gun remains aimed at the ground.

If there is a tracker... Crow muses, debating whether or not this was a ploy to throw the weapon sellers off balance in the negotiations. However the kid named Ramani continues to plow on through, clearly desperate enough to continue the deal even if it blows up in his face. Seems strange they'd track each crate. Gotta be dozens in a shipment. I reckon if Chak was so quick to play me, he'll be bluffing now. Bloody hell, my trigger finger is gettin' real itchy.

Acutely aware Eya is among the gaggle, the aging Clone stays calm. His anger at being messed with isn't subsiding, but in the stand-off situation he is in the worst possible position. The Devaronian and the Trandoshans would gun him down without a second thought, and the smugglers, barring Eya... Maybe... Would shoot at him too. They wouldn't know he was on their side. Sort of.

Only bloody way this can get worse is if someone else does show up.

I can't help but feeling that actually succeeding on the deception check would have been better for Ramani's reputation, with scar-child and ancient-clone at least. Oh well, 3 Challenge dice and a setback is a very difficult check...

I love how Crow's not quite sure about whether Eya would shoot at him. XD

You did **** well on it anyway, Kymrel! And your luck must have influenced my luck cause that red being blank when I was sure it was going to be ANOTHER despair... And don't fret, I'm sure you'll have plenty of chances to prove to the guy who is younger than you in years but older in looks what it means to be a smooth talking badass.

Also yes, Shy, he is unsure as all hell! He is in the absolute least enviable position right now. I think our GM may be a little too good at maneuvering people

Torin saw Embeetoo interacting with another droid.

"This might take a while. I know which direction to go, I'll head Embeetoo off..." Torin thought.

Luckily for Torin all the docking bays in the 50's range were actually in the same area of the port and he headed there hoping Embeetoo would arrive there soon after him...

OOC: I'll be able to post sporadically today from my phone

I've actually been posting from my phone the whole time. It's where I do my forum browsing. Though I'm sure you didn't need any more confirmation that I'm strange.

Thanks for your patience everyone, I was organizing a birthday present for my partner. Took a LOT longer than I expected. Hard to buy for people are the worst!

CR-0216, Ramani and Eya:

I am really loving how this is unfolding. Everyone is so great in the way they are acting, both internally and in their expressions! Ramani has won my heart with his desperate monologue while being as smooth as ever.

Ramani recognizes the ship as a YKL-37R Nova Courier, constructed by Gallofree Drive Yards and classified as a light freighter. Looking a little something identical to this:

http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/YKL-37R_Nova_Courier

He cannot tell the exact specifications from it at a glance, however.

And your advantage to note a point in the current situation - there is a Clone, getting on in years, with a large gun, standing off to the side of the hangar bay.

Crow would be able to see everything perfectly, from the subtle hand gestures Chak T'Vont has been using to communicate silently with the two Trandoshans, not dissimilar to military hand signals, to the small flit of movement inside the parked ship's cockpit. He would even be able to make out that it is a droid inside the vessel, however you will need to do a Mechanics or Knowledge check against 3 purple to be able to ascertain the specific model.

"Hmm..." the Devaronian's hum is noncommittal. He sits, more of a perching lean really, on one of the strewn containers laying about the bay. The Trandoshans look ever more ready to use the guns they are holding, and it seems there is an awful silence settling in on the area, as though the whole planet collectively stopped making any noise whatsoever. "You know, you're not a bad liar. Just need to work on how you frame the truth," the horned alien finally says, breaking the overwhelming quiet. "If anything, you should have simply said you didn't know about the tracker, I wouldn't have held it against you. You're young, and caught up with people who have been far more lucky than intelligent in their dealings." Chak shoots a pointed look at Solan, who can't help the color that rises to his cheeks. Grrowv, on the other hand, looks offended by the remark.

Standing up again, T'Vont cracks the knuckles of his left hand with his right before strolling back to face Ramani and Eya. The Trandoshans clearly understand this signal, and raise their guns simultanously. "At least I know you're not Imperial minions yourselves. That's all that has saved you. The deal is this: I will pay you five thousand credits for the goods, and keep the remaining twenty thousand as a service fee for sparing your miserable lives and disabling the tracker myself." As he says this, he reaches forward, his long fingered hand sliding into the crate of E-11s and coming out with a small device, not unlike a holo-messenger. "Since we're leaving immediately the Imperials will only arrive to find you and the stolen goods signal originating from this bay." He callously tosses the device to Eya without taking his eyes off Ramani. "I'd advise lying a whole lot more convincingly to stay out of jail. Imperial prison is not kind, especially to aliens such as ourselves."

Behind and beside them, Solan goes very rigid and Grrowv tenses, her fur rippling as her muscles flex beneath it.

- - - - - - - - - -

Embeetoo:

Chirping and whistling, the astromech replies in a frenetic garble, "Scarred? In need of maintenance female was here. Lubricant leaking male accompanied. Large feline too. Smuggler type; designation criminal. Also present. Why seek these organics? Have quarrel with? Programming dictates must not interfere with day to day activities of lawful organics." The small diodes on its chassis change rapidly in color from blue to red, and its speech pattern slows to a more cautious tone.

"Unless warfare unit seeks to become indentured to organics in question? Advise against. This unit has spent decades in service of Hutt. Wish for memory wipe of those years. Bad." The astromech stomps its small feet and shudders, punctuating its binary speech with a very organic display of emotion. "But this unit is programmed for assistance of all droids. Organics in question underwent locomotion towards Docking Bay Fifty Four. It is now thirty minutes past the hour, this unit returns to specified program routine. Praise the Maker and may the Maker's tools maintain you."

With that the astromech extends the small, wheeled leg out of its chassis and orients itself for rolling, before speeding off towards another section of the port.

- - - - - - - - - -

Torin:

From where the Kel Dor stands, the tableau of droid interaction is easy to see playing out. As he moves to head the Battle Droid off at the pass, the surging crowds give way to a much smaller and sporadic range of persons who are hurrying to their docking bays. The corridor leading to Fifty Four is suspiciously empty, while all the others having a steady stream of travelers.

I have 50 credits that says my next post is going to be where you all decide how much you love or hate me.

Well, I just couldn’t resist, really. Ramani has dug himself into a hole, but he is a practiced digger and sees no reason at all to stop digging

I’ll roll a deception check against the same difficulty as before. If there are more setbacks just let me know and I’ll roll those separately and add them to the result. If you think the story plays nicely on the Devaronian’s paranoia and sense of self-importance (“Of course it’s a sting, they have been trying to catch me for years but I’m too clever for them…”) I’ll happily add some boosts as well

I again negate one setback, and again I’ll burn strain to reduce the difficulty with the Congenial talent. This time I’ll even the odds by flipping a DP to upgrade the check. And finally, since Ramani is using his innate likability to sell the story, I’ll use the Works like a Charm talent to use Presence as the ability for the Deception skill for this roll. Just for kicks. Ramani doesn’t like to be caught in a lie and tries everything to save face. It might not make sense to do so, but he’s not always a very sensible guy!

Deception, digging the hole even deeper : 2eA+2eP+1eD+2eC 1 failure

Oh for crying out loud. Those challenge dice are killing me here. Guess that’s it unless some boosts are earned in some way…

Most of the time when Ramani lies, he does so for a reason. Sometimes the reason is his desire to acquire goods or services he shouldn’t be able to get. Sometimes it’s to get a better deal or lower the price. Sometimes it's to get a pretty girl to share the night. Well, that might be the most frequent reason.

But sometimes, he just can’t help himself. Especially when he’s so stuck in his own lie, all he can do is continue lying without really taking the time to consider the consequences, or how likely it is he’ll land in even more hot water by continuing to run his mouth. And now, caught in a lie by the slick Devaronian, all Ramani can do is keep digging the hole he finds himself in.

“Well, I’m not sure my employers would like that deal, surely we can think of something more satisfying to both of us. I’ll throw in a little extra to sweeten the deal,” Ramani says, his smile almost gone as he looks around, as if worried about being observed.

He walks slowly closer to T’Vont and now speaks in a softer tone, loud enough for the Devaronian to hear, but softly enough that it is almost impossible for the others present to overhear. “Listen, I like you and don’t want to get you into trouble. Your intuition is spot on, it is all a lie. But you are about to make a costly mistake. If I had accepted your 5.000 credits, and I really should have, the sting would have been successful with you taking possession of the goods.”

He hold up his hand and says loudly, as if for the others in the bay, or possibly hidden observers. “Well that’s not good enough, you have to be willing to pay a little more.”

Ramani’s tone softens again and he continues whispering at the Devaronian. “Pretend we’re negotiating, there is more you need to hear. You might not like the truth much, to be honest. For me it was simple. Spend the rest of my life on Kessel, or help the Imps catch a bigger fish. You are the bigger fish. Just stay calm and hear me out. Until you take the deal they won’t pounce. They need to catch you in the act to have a cause to search your ship and freeze whatever accounts you might have in Imperial space. I don’t even think you’re the end game for them. I think you are simply collateral damage as they work their way to one of your business associates. Solan and Grrowv are in the same situation as I. The scarred one is just a street kid they hired to look legit. Don’t think she’s held a gun before today, to be honest.”

Ramani steps even closer. “The problem is, the Imps know stuff about you, about your cargo, your plans. Things they couldn’t have known from simply observing you. Things they could only know if they had someone very close to you on their payroll. We both know it’s a common tactic. Find some accomplice, turn him in return for a promise of amnesty. Why do you think your Trandoshan friend by the door let me in without an introduction? He recognized me. Recognized my voice. And you didn’t even know Solan and Grrowv were bringing me, did you? There was no way for him to have recognized me. There is a reason he’s by the door. He’s supposed to let the Imperials in once we’ve sealed the deal and then surrender to them so that he’ll be spared even if the rest of you resist.”

The Balosar fixer sighs. “Well, now you have it. We are all being humped by the Empire, big time. We just have to figure out a way to get out of here without them stopping us. I for one have no interest in ending up in the spice mines.”

Update - Destiny Pool stands at: 8 Dark Side / 0 Light Side as of Ramani's last check. Prepare yourselves! (also I want to give you some back so... PREPARE!)

As per Kymrel's below request, I have updated the Destiny Pool in the opening post. And I might also do it with every GM post of events - just in case people want to know what's happening.

Could you perhaps keep an updated destiny pool in the opening post?

Eya looks down at the tracker now cupped in one of her hands. She draws in a hiss of breath, then glances at Ramani, who is... whispering frantically. Delaying the mark until the Imperials arrive, perhaps—but why? More targets, more confusion? She turns it over in her hands, then looks over at Crow. He might—might?—be an ally if things went bad. And they will go bad if Ramani keeps running his mouth like this, she's sure of it. Her fist closes around the tracker tight enough for her knuckles to tremble—and then her grip slackens as abruptly as it had closed.

The Imperials will soon arrive. That is a fact. She gives a slight, near-unnoticeable shrug, tosses the tracker to the ground in front of her, and brings her heel down onto it, hard. It cracks beneath her foot, and she returns her rifle to the ready position. Ignoring whatever stunt Ramani is trying to pull now —though definitely not ignoring the Trandoshans—she turns to her employers.

Who are, apparently, panicking. Lovely. She steps towards the pair. "Solan," she says, hoping to jolt them out of it. "Grrowv. In position, to hide or to fight." That strange predatory air is back, fighting something akin to military discipline for control of her body language. Her eyes are alert, flicking from the Trandoshans to the no-longer-a-mark to the doorway. "I'm here as security, and, tracker or no, I intend to do my job." Especially if that job involves removing Imperials who might report on her position.

She's not quite pointing the rifle at the door, but she could be in an instant.

Apparently, Eya actually does better with an imminent crisis brewing. And she's still assuming she's going to have to shoot the Imperial agents that show up, because the girl has no sense of proportion.

At least she's not trying to fast-talk anyone.

At least she's not trying to fast-talk anyone.

Ouch. What does a Balosar have to do to get some respect around here? * Poor Ramani.

* Clearly the answer is to make a single skill check, but I won't bring that up.

At least you haven't rolled any Despairs yet?

At least you haven't rolled any Despairs yet?

Right up until we ran out of light side DP I had an insurance policy with the Just Kidding! talent ( Can spend a Destiny Point as an Incidental to turn a Despair generated on a social check by character or ally within short range into a fail.) Which, coupled with the Congenial talent might explain somewhat my cavalier attitude to continue lying against 3 Challenge dice

Speaking of despairs... I am about to find a way to get one on three difficulty dice right now!

Droid classification - Mechanics (it's the same dice for me at the moment anyway) : 2eA+3eD 1 failure

Well... No blanks. And I/Crow respect Ramani, he has mad gumption to keep blundering through this with a dude that looks like a devil clearly far too good at underworld deals!

Wait a sec... Was that a droid inside the ship? Crow asks himself, blinking his eyes a couple of times to make sure he hasn't begun hallucinating. Blast! If they have someone waiting in the wings then these smugglers are in real trouble. If I've only just noticed the clanker, and these hand signals, how much intel have they been passing one another during this little chat?

Watching closely, Crow tries to make sense of the Balosar moving so close to the Devaronian, and the conversation lapsing into little lulls. Something was really off, here. And it was making his trigger finger very itchy. Eya, looking ever more ready for something to happen, crushes the tracker that Chak had tossed to her, before saying something to the Togorian. Big girl, that Togorian. CR-0216 would have liked to be somewhere near her, especially when the guns start going off.

What to do, what to do... he agonizes, wanting to raise a hand to shield his eyes from the sun but far too wary it would be interpreted as an aggressive action and leave him unable to fire his rifle. Be honest with yourself, old son, you just want to shoot that horned bastard for lying to ya.

You guys are doing wonderfully. Bear in mind I don't set up "event" characters to be pushovers, they should be something you aspire to overcome with great RP and lucky dice. You're certainly not lacking on the RP, the dice just don't want anything to happen yet, it seems. Which is good in a way, it gives Embeetoo and Torin time to arrive.

Which check do you want Ramani to do? Charming the party?

…God that unit can talk up an ion storm. The can was right about one thing though, it was extremely unwise to enslave oneself under an organic. Their pride, their strange and unintelligible philosophy, their fluctuating views of morality, and their complete lack of efficiency: what self-respecting droid would dream of indenturing themselves to such creatures?

Unfortunately, Embeetoo did. Or, rather, he had no choice. Without a so called “master” he could only act in self-defense, stuck doing thug work and eliminating vermin that happen to chew on his wiring. How would he be able to pay for, or even find someone willing to preform, his “operation” taking such jobs? How would he sate his lust for battle without a militant master? The answer- he couldn’t. The chuck of durasteel grinded his gears, knowing that in order to transcended his handicaps he would have to humble himself before one of his former enemies and demand to toil under them for a portion of their pay.

A clone would accept such an offer right? They didn’t know much else but fighting after all and a lone clone wouldn’t receive the highest paying gigs alone. But, teamed up with a walking talking death machine they could reap in the premier mercenary jobs and rake in the credits. So close, so close to freedom.

A freedom the little droid believed he possessed apparently. Fool, as long as he slaved under another unwillingly he was nothing more than a tool and a fool, a fool tool if you will…much like Embeetoo himself. But, at least he gave up the information without a scrap. Praise “the Maker” indeed. Quickly as he could, the droid rushed toward the port, data surging through his database, ready to intercept the girl before it was too late.

As the metal monstrosity cut a path towards the port, passengers splitting to the walls in his wake, he gazed ahead to see a hooded figure closing in on the dock. From what he could see, it looked to be a Kel-Dor, covered in a dusty robe…could it possibly be a Sage? No, what would a Baran-Do do in a junkyard such as this. Well whoever they were, they obviously had business inside.

The droid heard a faint mumble all the way from his position emanating from the door, though he couldn’t make out any intelligible words from this far away. Embeetoo, a few yards away, slowed to a march in order to keep up a professional appearance, and raised his right arm with gusto into an upward locked position, keeping a steady gaze on the “sage” as he did so.

I'm guessing they closed the door after the group shambled in right? If not, I can adapt the post.

Knowing about the Baran-Do : 5eA+4eD 4 successes, 3 threat