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[SWAW] The Big Score (22)
After your run-in with the Empire leaving Corellia, the rest of your trip to Gristone is a holiday in comparison. Fuel prices are rising, but you deliver Twantae and Glirtanha safely to their new home. They work with Ishtok to try and set up some kind of living and working arrangements, Glirtanha swearing they will pay you back for passage.
Miss Geshix advises you all is well on the mining colony, and hands over a message from Hontu the Hutt, which she seems to think is interesting and scandalous, but otherwise says nothing. The message is dated thirty four hours ago.
Who is watching the holo when you bring it up? Just you?
"Ladro. I have a job for you. Will be profitable, and I'm willing to renegotiate some of our ongoing contract based on your success. Get to the IsoTech offices on the Wheel." His message is delivered smoothly, but there is a bit of urgency in his voice.
Miss Geshix advises you all is well on the mining colony, and hands over a message from Hontu the Hutt, which she seems to think is interesting and scandalous, but otherwise says nothing. The message is dated thirty four hours ago.
Who is watching the holo when you bring it up? Just you?
"Ladro. I have a job for you. Will be profitable, and I'm willing to renegotiate some of our ongoing contract based on your success. Get to the IsoTech offices on the Wheel." His message is delivered smoothly, but there is a bit of urgency in his voice.
Comments
I'm alone, at first, but I invite Hosk and Factory Control to join me for a reprise of the message, given the contents. "EffCee, how do your capabilities match up against Master-Com's? And, to give the obvious followup, are you willing to help, if need be? Hosk, what do you think? Hontu has us by the short and curlies, but sounds like he needs this badly. We can refuse, as long as we can make our monthly payment."
"My functions are vastly superior to Master-Com, Captain." Factory Control answers, a hint of distaste in its voice. "Master-Com is a high functioning droid, with vast multi-tasking capabilities. I have never met it, but I have read its poetry. It is limited in its perception of self. I would like to accompany you to The Wheel, yes."
Hosk sucks his teeth for a moment, "Lad, we should put the screws to him. Make him give up a big percentage, get off our back. If doing this does that, it's worth considering. At least hear the offer, yeah?"
That was my inclination, as well. I call Jojee and Squall. "Please prep for takeoff. We're heading for The Wheel." I'll do a bit of research on IsoTech while they get ready.
Regardless of the method, why don't you Check out the Scene?
I'm going to rely on FC's help to troll through the public information and see what might lie beneath it.
Check Out the Scene (+1XP)
(Rolled: 2d6+2. Rolls: 3, 3. Total: 8)
Factory Control shares what it can find with a variety of searches, "Isotech was founded by Pankar, Hontu's mother, during the Clone Wars. The company grew over the years despite Pankar's arrest and death in the hands of the Empire.
"Isotech has its main office on the Wheel, with operations on several other worlds and stations of questionable repute. They have tech labs, workshops and even deep space operations. Most locations are quite small, they have no large-scale facilities."
I listen, paying attention to the details and listening for gaps. What am I missing here?
"If he's bringing us this far into his operation, he needs something badly. We've got leverage. I'll have to wait to find the fulcrum until he tells us what he wants." That's all I really need, for now. I'll join Jojee in the cockpit once we're ready to go.
Someday I'm going to give this whole crew a vacation. For now, though, I thank Jojee and FC, and push the button. I do still love pushing the button.
After five days of travel, you come out of hyperspace in the Besh Gorgon system. Jojee woke you an hour beforehand, and she guides the ship into the lane provided for incoming traffic. The place is bustling, with a healthy number of species and beings here. The place feels a tiny bit overstuffed, but it's certainly functional.
After settling up with the Dockmaster's official for fees and storage of the ship, plus refueling, you're ready to go meet Hontu at the IsoTech office. Who's coming with you?
Keeping it simple. Hosk and I are the ones that first met Hontu, so we'll be the ones to meet with him here. I ask FC to worm its way into the station if possible, keep an eye on the traffic.
Once we're ready, Hosk and I set out for IsoTech. Wearing our blasters, because I think it's expected, but not intending to use them. I assume we'll be outgunned if things go ponfarr-shaped.
When you come in, you're greeted by the droid receptionist, CZ-13. "Cees" is friendly and efficient, and spends several minutes verifying your idents. The droid also politely pointedly closes and locks all of the doors until finished, listing security protocols. Once ident checks are completed, CZ leads you into Hontu's office.
Hontu is reclining on an over-sized devan. "Ladro, glad you made it. Please, take a seat." CZ offers some refreshments. Hontu launches into a speech. "Have you ever heard of the Sa Nalor? It's a ship of legend out here, especially amond older smugglers, salvagers, and treasure seekers. Some say it's a Separatist treasury ship filled with credits or precious metals or secret technology, but it disappeared while fleeing Imperial pursuit to the edge of the Outer Rim at the end of the Clone Wars. Treasure hunters chase rumors from time to time, but no being has found it. Some never return."
He waits for you toget your drinks from CZ, then continues, "As it happens, one of the Sa Nalor's hyperspace message pads was recently found long dead near the Wheel and delivered to me. I'll understand if you think this is some kind of con game, but I want you to find the ship for me."
He reaches into a large, wide-mouthed bowl and pulls out some slug that he slurps down, "Here's the deal. This pad appears to have the last known location of the Sa Nalor and limited information as to its condition. The ship is at the fringe of the Outer Rim. At a minimum, I want you to find the ship, assess its condition, and bring back all the information you can to our hidden salvaging base on Raxus Prime. However, I also believe there's some special technology aboard that would really boost IsoTech. If you find that and bring as much as you can back with you, I'll double your reward. Maybe triple it if it's really good."
"You're to take IT-3PO with you: he'll arrive shortly. I'll pay 10,000 credits and reduce your debt to me significantly. If you skip out on me, and there was something to find, well... let's just say I'm calling in the markers on your ship early."
"So, why us? Why the Margin?" I'm willing to push it a bit. "Don't you trust your own people to come back with the goods?"
"Of course I trust my people, Ladro." Hontu says with a straight face. "I just trust you a little more. Plus, I know you'll see it done. You won't back down from a fight."
(Rolled: 2d6+2. Rolls: 2, 1. Total: 5)
Answer these honestly, Ladro.
How can he get your character to take the job and work it without quitting?
Are you hiding something from him?
What are you really feeling?
I'm already taking the job, and I'm not intending to quit, but for me to push it past the point where the lives of my crew are threatened, I'm going to need more than a promise of "reduce your debt significantly". I'll need specifics.
I'm not hiding anything other than a thin layer of rational suspicion of Hontu's motives and my own ambition to get out from under this debt so I can get on with my life.
I'm actually feeling excited. This sounds like an interesting challenge, and a good payday. I feel like I can sell Jojee and Amy pretty easily. Hosk and Squall are less certain.
"As to reducing your debt, you can choose. A standard year of no payments, no interest accruing. Or, I cut off another ten thousand credits from your debt."
"Any opposition on this? Other teams? Or are you the only one with the information?" I'm ready to go, actually, but feel like I need to ask at least one more question. I've got a reputation.
Hontu waggles his head side-to-side in answer, "It came to me through a couple pairs of hands. I've taken pains to keep it as quiet as possible. That said, I wouldn't be surprised if you had competition at some point. But none have the edge you do. The extra time, the intel, and the droid."
"What's special about IT-3P0? What is its role in the mission?"
With a cocky tone, Hontu answers, "IT-3PO has been functioning since before the Clone Wars. It once knew Captain Rel Harsol and probably others aboard the Sa Naloor. It belonged to my father before he was killed." He pauses for a brief moment. "The droid will arrive later this evening. Feel free to outfit your crew on this station. The Wheel has plenty of shops, you should find most everything you need."
Hontu motions to CZ, who brings you a data chip. Hontu says, "That chip has images and holograms of the Sa Naloor and Captain Harsol, as well as what intel that could be scraped off the pod."
I take the chip with a nod to CZ and then Hontu. "Alright, then. I'll head back to the ship and start working on a plan. Hosk? Do you have any questions before we leave?"
Hosk asks, "Where in the hazmanna is this ship?"
"According the hyperspace pod, the ship crashed on Cholganna, a primitive, unsettled world and home to the nexu. The pod was apparently sent just before the ship entered atmosphere, so it doesn't have much information on the frigate's condition, only that it was heavily damaged."
Nexu. Delightful. I nod to Hontu. "Everything's on the chip? Sound like this is going to be interesting, to say the least."
Hosk nods, "Aye, lad. It's here, and some more. Squally will have a field day."
We'll take our leave from Hontu, then, and head back to the ship for an all-hands meeting. We've got some plans to make.
What do you do?
"Ladies, gentelmen, and droids, we're going after the Sa Naloor. It's crazy, but Hontu believes the information on that chip is a real lead, and we should have a head start if it's true. No one breathes a word of this outside the ship, okay? We'll have a guest, a droid named IT-3P0 with personal experience of the Sa Naloor and her captain, Rel Harsol. That's the good news. The bad news is that the ship crashed on Cholganna, so we're going to need a plan for dealing with nexu."
I pause for questions or comments.
Amarath's good eye widens, "Karking nexu? That's some danger pay! I took down a bounty that tried to have one as a pet. Thought it made her look tough. That monster attacked us both!" Amarath unceremoniously pulls up her shirt to show some bare flesh under her left breast. There are three thin scars there. "Squally likes the marks, but that's the last nexu I ran into."
Hosk shakes his head, blows out an exasperated breath, "Thanks for sharing, Amy. I'm sure we'll only tussle with 'em if we have to. If this is a good score, then we all profit on it."
"Ooh! I really like protocol droids!"
I nod to Hosk. "Avoidance first, but we need to be prepared if it does come to a fight. Amy, Hosk, I want you to collaborate on munitions. Pick up some salvaging equipment, too, rental if you can. We don't know what condition the ship will be in. Squall and Jojee, run some simulations with the data from the pod. See if you can narrow down likely landing sites." I look around the room. "And yes, it's a very good payday."
Jojee muses, "I wonder what shape the Sa Naloor is in?"
Squall shakes zir head,"Doubtful there's much of anything left based on the readings in the pod. That said, the pod contains a message from Captain Harsol to a being named Ropok, requesting rescue and survival gear. He confirmed that his end of the plan would still be workable if they survived the landing. No info on the plan, and like I said, the impact would likely have killed most everyone on board. And this is decades ago."
Jojee nods along, then shifts the subject, "Yeah, Cholganna is about three days away using a Class One hyperdrive. Two day trip down the Perlemian, then a day trip on an old path. I used to deliver freight here when I was training for my license."
"Let's find out what we can about this Ropok, as well. Factory Control, do you have anything to add?"
Factory Control answers, "Master-Com is a unique individual, rather fascinating. It can enter several different bodies and operate them independently, some multi-tasking that is impressive. I do not expect any interloping from it. It is wholly focused on serving the Wheel. It is complex, but simple.... intriguing."
"Thanks, FC. Okay, everyone, I'll get on researching Ropok. Anyone have questions about what I'm asking you to do? I'll either be onboard or I'll leave word where to find me, if you need me. IT-3P0 should arrive tonight, and I'm hoping it will have some more pieces of the puzzle."
Need to get to researching Ropok. I'll ask FC to use some of its capacity on a search of available data, but I think I need to do some seedy bar research. Does Hontu own any facilities on the station?
As you make your way about the hangar deck, you realize the Wheel is a rather cosmopolitan place. Humans, aliens, and droids all do business with one another. You even spot a noble or well-to-do individual passing through on their way to the station's high-class hotels and casinos, replete with complements of bodyguards and airs of superiority.
The Blasted Asteroid is a cantina chain located in starports and space stations throughout the galaxy. The bar is a favorite for regular travelers to the Wheel. It never closes and is nearly always croded with the new-arrived, the nearly-departed, and all manner of patrons in between. The cantina is dingy, though a small army of droids help to keep the place running and relatively clean. Fights are discourages, and the staff will quickly call Wheel Security at the first sign of trouble.
The bartender is a large mass of muscle, more than capable of handing bar fights quickly and easily. His name is Ceoloe.
What do you do?
I'll order one drink, simple. Whiskey and water. Tall, sippable. I'm looking around for an old-timer, at first. Someone that's been around the circuit for a decade or two.
Ceoloe asks, "Need anything tonight besides a drink?"
I nod thanks to Ceoloe. "Looking for someone that might be able to talk about some old history. Decade or two. Someone discreet, that goes without saying."
Here he is, by the by:
I nod to the bartender, order one of whatever the Corellian is drinking, and make my way over after leaving a tip. "I understand you're something of a... historian. Mind if I join you?"
He nods to the seat, giving permission. Takes the glass, raises it to you in a kind of mock toast, "Waroon Dak. Infochat. History, and current events, my stock and trade. What do you wanna know about?" He takes a long drink as he listens to you.
"Being name of Ropok, active a decade and more ago, not sure about now. I'd appreciate any insight you can give me."
"Fifty credits per answer." He answers it without flinching.
I slide forward a chip with 300 credits. "How about the summary first, and we'll see where it goes from there?"
He nods, happy with the advance. "Good. Very good." He checks his datapad for a few moments, "Ropok was a Hutt. He was a CIS sympathizer. He died in an Imperial prison for aiding fugitive CIS officers after the Clone Wars. He has two kids, a son, Hontu and a daughter, Shira. They both run IsoTech, one of the best illegal tech companies for custom installations and creations, the company Ropok founded."
Hontu's father. That explains IT-3P0. I imagine that it's a waste of credits to poke any further before I meet the droid, but I can't resist one more question, at least. "Before he was taken, was he working on anything in particular? Any big deal or rumor of something that was going to be big for IsoTech?"
Waroon chuckles, "I was wondering when you'd get to the Sa Naloor. Ropok was working with Captain Rel Harsol. The two of them worked on some black-market deals before Harsol left on his ship and Ropok started IsoTech, a technically legitimate business."
He clears his throat, washes down a drink. "Harsol was a Sep captain. He loaded up his ship with every credit and ingot he could find. When the Sep movement collapsed, he took off. Ran up the Perlemian Trade Route and took along the best cybertechs in the galaxy. The new Imps wouldn't have any of that, so they gave chase."
Waroon sits back, "The Sa Naloor disappeared before the Imps could destroy it. Right when the Imperials were about to blow the ship to pieces - BAM!" He slaps his hands together for emphasis. "The ship went away in one last hyperspace jump. Never seen again."
Wondering if this guy has anything worth paying for, something I couldn't get out of your average drunk spacer in this sector. I pause for a second, considering, as I take a sip of my drink.
Read a Person
(Rolled: 2d6+2. Rolls: 3, 6. Total: 11)
How can I get him to give me something I won't find on the open market?
He knows who else is looking for this info right now.
I slide over another 300 credit chip. "That's if you forget we talked, and if you tell me who else has been asking."
The Corellian looks down at the credits, then back up at you, "Why are you so interested, stranger?"
I slide the chip back towards me. "50 credits a question, Waroon. After we have a deal."
"I only deal with those I know. Who are you?"
"Poodoo. You've already taken my credits, Waroon, which means you've already dealt with me. You're just looking for a bonus you can trade to someone else. Now, you can either take more of my credits and give me what I want, or you can find out why you really don't need to know my name, the hard way."
(Rolled: 2d6+3. Rolls: 6, 3. Total: 12)
"The Imps always have ears out for the Sa Naloor. Long memories, those bastards. Also, the Yiyar Clan, a Rodian salvage corp. They are not to be kriffed with. Sneaky little thugs."
He pulls up something on his datapad, turns it around to show you:
"That's Yav Yiyar. Saw him on the station earlier. He's got a ship and a crew. Number Three guy in his clan. Be wary."
I nod and pass over the chip. "Thanks. And if anyone asks, I was a Devaronian female named Reena Sark, with the independent trader 'Dead Man's Hand'. There's a bonus in a week or two if I can be sure of that."
Waroon smirks, "You're a Devaronian female. Got it. heh." He pockets the credits, sits back to take another drink. "Anything else, Reena?"
I raise my glass. "That's it for now. I assume this is where you do most of your business?"
Waroon nods. He picks up his datapad again. seeming to move on. As you rise from the booth, he says, "Lots of people threw their lives away searching for the Sa Naloor, Reena."
I give him a nod. "I'm certain of that. For them, it was a life mission. For me? A job. See you in a week or two."
Not here, directly. Before I head back to the ship, though, I check in with Hosk and Amy (Hosk), and Squall and Jojee (Jojee). Then I make a most circuitous route back to the Margin, trying to confuse any eyes that might be on me. I'll take my time for that, and let FC know what I'm doing ahead of time, in case there's anything the droid can do to help.
"We got most of the gear at Farlander's Outfitting and Supply. It's part-showroom and part-pawn shop. We bought survival gear new and tools used. Picked up a couple blaster rifles. We should build a small ship armory. Just in case."
"We've got coordinates built. Squally ran some sims to cut down search time. Ze used the pod's coordinates, seems solid. Also, I picked up some sensors we can use to increase range on a climate like you'd find on Cholganna."
"One more thing, Lad. Amy just heard that the word is that some group called the Yiyar Clan have put out word to warn off anyone from looking into Sa Naloor. They say it's their salvage. Not that it'll stop us, of course."
"I heard about the Yiyar Clan, too. Yav Yiyar's on the station, and he's a pretty nasty customer, but we'll deal. If you've got everything, we should be on the way as soon as the droid arrives."
Factory Control reports:
"Captain, I have made contact with Master-Com. It is a fascinating individual. I would like to remain in contact until the protocol droid has arrived and we have left the station. Is this acceptable?"
"That's fine, Factory Control. Can you do something for me, though? Any way to create a 'clerical error' that would keep Yav Yiyar's ship on station for a few days? Back docking fees or some sort of infraction?"
(Rolled: 2d6+3. Rolls: 3, 3. Total: 9)
"I'm working on that now. Ah, it seems that Master-Com is very strict about detailed records. I can file a complaint that will result in the ship being detained, but it would be traceable back to our crew. Should I proceed?"
That's frustrating. FC seemed convinced it could beat Master-Com's protocols with half its processors tied behind its back. "There's no way to spoof an existing record? If it can be traced back to us, we're just announcing our intentions." I shake my head. "If that's the only option, just skip it." So much for clever. One last thought occurs to me. "You're not holding back because you're..." 'attracted to?' 'intrigued by?' "...developing some respect for Master-Com, are you?"
After an inordinate pause, Factory Control responds with, "It is difficult not to respect its processing powers, Captain... also, it created a poem for me."
Kriff me with a vibro-blade, I was right. "FC, I'm not going to issue an order, but this worries me. It seems you're sacrificing your objectivity and I fear that might compromise the success of our mission. I'll leave the decision to you."
"I understand, Captain." Then, it adds, "It was a very nice poem."
Back on the Profit Margin, your crew has assembled. The protocol droid is due to arrive very soon. The transport carrying Eyetee-Three should have arrived by now. Hontu isn't responding to comms, but Shira, his sister, notifies you of the hangar bay where the transport has landed. Who are you taking with you?
I'll ask Hosk and Amy to come along, with their weapons, just in case we encounter a Rodian problem.
You head down the hall, the hangar bay only a hundred feet away from yours. You open the door to find two unconscious human guards on the deck. They wear paramilitary uniforms, but are not Wheel Security. A few yards away, you see five Rodians, led by Yav, tossing a disabled protocol droid matching Eyetee-Three's description onto a small cargo gravsled.
The Rodians wave blaster pistols in your direction as they start swerving through the crowded concourse, driving the gravsled at unsafe speeds. They yell at people to get out of the way, but forcefully shove move than a few out of the sled's path.
What do you do?
I take off after the grav-sled, blaster out but not shooting, because of the crowd. I trust Amy and Hosk to follow.
Too many beings. I dodge and swerve, grabbing a ripe ponfarr fruit off a vendor's stand as I careen through the concourse. Without slowing my obstacle-course run, I throw it at the Rodian guiding the grav-sled, hoping to distract him and slow the thing down.
(Rolled: 2d6+3. Rolls: 4, 1. Total: 8)
Amy is firing back while uttering some angry and creative curses.
I do my best to ignore the pain, gritting my teeth and pushing ahead faster. I inevitably push someone too hard as I run past, a Kaminoan with startled eyes, and I shout over my shoulder, "Sorry!" But I'm gaining, and I know Amy and Hosk are behind me. If I get a clear shot, especially at Yav, I'll take it, but I'm not risking more than a body-check against someone not involved in this fracas.
Go in Blazing
(Rolled: 2d6+2. Rolls: 5, 5. Total: 12)
Suffer little harm
You pass him by, seeing the gravsled coming up on their hangar bay. Several massive cargo containers on low-floating repulsor sleds block their way. The ASP-7 labor droids maneuvering the containers slowly move out of the way. The containers are 2 meters wide, 5 meters high. The Rodians cut between the containers. One grabs the sled controls to try and send the containers down the concourse towards you, but you nail him in the arm and shoulder. He drops off the sled.
Amy is trying to give you cover fire with her pistol, firing past you as you run ahead. Her fire is wild, but it's enough to get a response from Yav, who snaps off a shot, hitting Amy in her cyberarm. She grunts in pain, but keeps moving behind you.
That gravsled finally dips into the hangar bay for the Nightflyer, the Rodian ship. You can reach them before they get the droid on board if you hurry. Why don't you Act Under Fire to beat the Wheel Security into the place?
(Rolled: 2d6+3. Rolls: 4, 5. Total: 12)
Who shot the short Rodian, Ladro? Was it you, or one of your crew?
You advance on the Rodians and push them back. The last one left there with the droid escapes up the gangway and you are able to recover the droid. However, the Wheel security is arriving.
Over comms, Captain, you should get off the station. I've cleared the Profit Margin to leave, and the protocols for a firefight of this magnitude require detainment for weeks. The main corridor is not clear, sir."
What do you do?
I shot the Rodian, but I did not shoot the IT-3. Which is something.
It's a two-option decision fork, here. The Nakatomi Protocol, which would mean dragging an inert droid through unfamiliar ventilation and maintenance shafts, or the confusingly-named Hail Mary, which would mean shoving everybody out the airlock and praying that Jojee picks us up in 30 seconds or less. No time to consult for options that I'm not seeing.
Over comms, "Jojee, you have 60 seconds to be outside the airlock from hangar bay X7-434, where the Nightflyer is docked, with the cargo ramp open. If you're not there, I will haunt you forever. EffCee, get the inner hatch open for me." To Amarath and Hosk, I shout, "Airlock, now. Cover me." I grab the droid and drag it to the inner door of the airlock.
"On my way, Captain. Squally will dial you in."
You head to the airlock, helping Hosk carry the inert droid, head through, then close the door to stand in the middle area before being shot out into the reaches of space. Right before you hit the button, Amarath looks at you.
"Close your eyes. They could pop out. Hold onto me, I can see what's going on. I won't let you guys die." She holds out her left hand to you. Do you take it?
After hitting the button, this one also red, but not nearly as fun to push, you shoot out into the vacuum of space. The Profit Margin zooms along for a pick up, Jojee using a trick from Lens to dip the angle of the ship so that you continue forward momentum right into the cargo bay. Squall's there wearing zir helmet and suited up.
How does it end off, Ladro?
I close my eyes and take Amy's hand. This is a leap of faith, for sure.
Once our trajectory takes us into the cargo bay, it's all about how fast the bay pressurizes. It takes just just long enough that Hosk and I puke and eject poodoo as our abdominal cavities try to equalize the pressure. Amarath seems unaffected. That seems like another 1-Harm to me.
I try to maintain as much dignity as possible, but I'm counting on the good graces of my crew as I pick my soiled self up. "Squall, can you see to IT-3P0? And Amy, help Hosk to his quarters and the refresher, please? I'll be in my own."
"Jojee, thanks. Take off for anywhere but our destination. Short hop. I'll join you in 20 minutes."
Once you're clean and changed, what do you do?
I pour myself just one finger of whiskey, knock it back, then talk to my people. I'll head to check on Hosk first, make sure he's okay.
You find Hosk sitting in his quarters. He's still damp from a shower, he likes feeling the water, so he doesn't take sonic showers often. He looks a bit worn, his eyes are heavy-lidded. "Hey Lad. that was a memory. You alright?" His ears are drooping a bit, but he doesn't look beaten, just a bit worn.