[IC] Star Wars - Interlude IV: The Detritus of Destiny

OOC




Nearly twenty years after the formation of the Galactic Empire, the Outer Rim remains one of the few places in the known Galaxy offering some degree of freedom from the yoke of Imperial control. This relative freedom has attracted all manner of scoundrels, criminals, and fugitives to the various planets comprising the Outer Rim. While the Empire is largely unrepresented, the region does not lack in those exercising oppressive control. From Hutt crime lords to spice syndicates, most areas of the Outer Rim fall under the sphere of influence of someone with the power to back up their claim. In the shadows of these criminal enterprises, the resourceful and crafty eke out a desperate existence. While life isn't great, it's better than the alternative.



[0.1 ABY] The crew of the Second-hand Sarlacc had made a stop-over at the spaceport of Ah'Kra on the planet Coyn in the Elrood Sector of the Outer Rim. The crew recently completed a job on behalf of their employer, Rumko Wun, and had stopped off to re-fuel and re-supply before returning to Raxus Prime, their base of operations. The ship's cargo hold was about half full of salvaged parts from a pirate base further up the Elrood-Derilyn Run that was recently decommissioned with extreme prejudice by Imperial forces. The planet was of divided loyalties between the Galactic Empire and the Rebellion with the city of Ah'Kra remaining neutral; a fortunate thing for the crew's wookie pilot, Krallaten, considering the Empire's view of his species.

Seeking out a little R&R, the crew had stopped for refreshment at the Kessel Cantina, a spacer bar attached to the spaceport proper. The cantina was relatively crowded, with a myriad of races patronizing the place. A variety of screens and holoprojectors presented news and information from a variety of news sources, including the Imperial-controlled HoloNet and the Alliance-sponsored HoloNet Free Republic. While not in a direct debate, it was interesting to see the dueling commentary about the destruction of Alderaan, with each side pinning the disaster on the other. The din of numerous languages being spoken simultaneously created a chaotic auditory backdrop to the bar. As the crew looked over the menu, a blue-skinned female Twi'lek approached the table holding a round tray.

"What's your pleasure?" she asked, holding a datapad and focusing her attention on Mack.

Krallatan, Wookiee Mechanic/Pilot

A trifle impatient, Krallatan says, "Hawwaan?" as he indicates an effervescent blue drink on the menu board above the bar. Krallatan is no exception to the rule that Wookiees like to have their noses tickled by the bubbles.

Mack Granger was relaxing in the cantina, but he was not so naive to not have his weapons with him. He tried not to get worked up about the broadcasts, but the destruction of Alderaan was depressing and he really wanted to get drunk. He muttered, "That some mawked up news there."

He told the Twi'lek, "A whiskey. Neat... Grap, bring the whole bottle if you would."

He really should have some food too, because he did not need to be snockered and start spouting off at the mouth with anti-Imperial rhetoric.

Arsinoe Anjuliz



Coyn/Ah’Kra/Kessel Cantina

Arsinoe Anjuliz tried not to touch anything as she freshened up in the ‘fresher. “I should have done this on the ship,” she muttered, washing her hands. She stared at herself in the cracked mirror, wondering just how her life hand landed her here, out on some backwater planet on the Outer Rim. Six months ago she was preparing to go to Coruscant for a master’s workshop at the Imperial Ballet.

“Face it, Noe,” she muttered, “the more you try to force it, the less you’ll remember.” She ran her wet hands through her long brown hair and tied it back out of the way, revealing her long, ivory neck and delicate ears. Young and pretty, she had been the delight of Corellian society when her engagement to Sabin had been announced a year ago.

Arsinoe pulled a face as she studied her clothes, essentially hand-me-downs from Mack. He was bigger than she was, so she’d had to do the alterations herself. Thank the cosmos she had plenty of experience with costume repair and alteration, but there was only so much she could do. Hemming up the pants was simple, but bringing in the waist was a pain, so the heavy duty spacer pants were held in place by a tight belt. The shirt was big, also, and scarlet. Mack joked it was so they wouldn’t see the blood. At least she hoped it was a joke. Finally she had an old black leather jacket and sturdy boots.

“I really miss my dresses,” Arsinoe sighed. The only dress she had was a tattered mess after a couple weeks spent surviving on a primitive world after her ship crashed.

Arsinoe undid a couple buttons on the shirt, mostly to cool off in the stuffy cantina, but also knowing a little cleavage did wonders to make a girl feel better about her outfit.

Pushing her way back into the crowded cantina, the young dancer moved almost effortlessly through the crowd, her lithe body quick and agile as she slipped through small openings between beings that most of her crewmates would never even attempt. She reached the table where the others sat just as a blue Twi’lek woman was taking their orders.

“Oh, great! Can I see a wine list?” Noe asked as she slipped into the seat next to Mack.

The Twi’lek gave her a blank look.

Arsinoe sighed. “Guess that was too much to hope for,” she murmured. “Corellian brandy,” she ordered. A little taste of home, even if it was a bit stronger than she usually took. “On the rocks.”

The petite young Human female looked around the table at the others. “Well, I thought that job went well,” she said with a smile. “When do we get our cut? I really need to go shopping. Do they have a mall here?”

LE-G8R-VO

LE-G8R-VO stands beside the table, its back to a wall. It found that the stools and chairs in these sorts of establishments weren't really made to cater for its nearly 7 foot tall frame. It emits a faint series of recurring clicks and whirs, as its head continually scans the room for threats.

As the twi'lek approaches, its head turns to face her and there is a series of whirs as its lenses adjust to focus on her. After a brief inspection, it dismisses her as not dangerous, and resumes its scanning of the room.

As usual, it refrains from engaging in small talk with both the twi'lek and the human female of the group, preferring to keep its attention focussed on any potential troublemakers in the cantina.

Mack Granger


Mack shrugged at Noe’s question, “Wun will probably pay us only after we get back Raxus Prime. I can probably float you a few credits, but in this life you are better sticking with the rugged clothing there.”

“Besides, som guys go for that rugged tomboy look you got going. Put a smudge of grease from working on a engine there on your cheek and you will be good to go,” he added with a grin.

He had he back to a wall, keeping one eye on looking around. The droid with them was a decent enough lookout, but the ex-soldier was not so trusting to not keep lookout for himself too. After all there was a price on his head.

Session 1/Scene 1: Ah'Kra Spaceport

"Sorry, ace. Bottle's got to stay behind the bar, Cantina rules. But don't worry, I'll be happy to refill as often as needed... and as long as your creds hold out." the waitress responded to Mack.

Overhearing Arsinoe's question, the waitress offered, "There's a duty free shop on the second level concourse. But if you want to get out of the spaceport for some real shopping, you'll have to apply for a ground visa. Things are a little crazy here on Coyn with all the give and take between the Imps and the Rebs, so that might be difficult."

After receiving orders from the three organic members of the ship's crew, the twi'lek waitress departed, glancing briefly at the droid but dismissing him quickly as a potential customer. Both Mack and G8R followed her progress briefly, insuring she was heading back to the bar. Scanning the crowd, no one particularly jumped out as a threat, but there was a group of Rodians in the back corner. They didn't seem to be paying much mind to the crew, but Rodians were well known for their tendency toward bounty hunting, given the species appreciation for the hunt. Mack made a mental note to check on their continued ambivalence.

After a short period of time, just barely within the limits of what would be considered reasonable service, the waitress returned with three glasses containing the requested orders. Krallatan's drink fizzed impressively. It was called a Booster Blue; a questionable choice in name given the illicit drug popular among pilots bearing the same name. Arsinoe and Mack's drinks arrived as requested, albeit the quality of the liquor was more along the well variety. Gathering up the credits for the drinks, the waitress added, "Let me know when it's time for a refill." Gesturing at a button on the table, she finished, "Just hit the button and I'll be over."

As the crew tentatively sampled their drinks, G8R received a signal that Rumko Wun had just left a message on the Sarlacc's holoprojector.

Krallatan, Wookiee Mechanic/Pilot

"Arrr? Wurwah?" inquires Krallatan, wondering how long they can put-off Rumko Wun before they have to return to the ship.

LE-G8R-VO

Assessing that there is little to be concerned about in the cantina, LE-G8R-VO turns its attention to the group seated around the table, while continuing to monitor the rodians and any new arrivals.

An unusual group, to be sure.

The fuzzball seemed like a good sort, for a filthy wookie. It didn't occur to LE-G8R-VO to wonder *why* it found wookies filthy... this was simply a tautology of the universe, like 1 + 1 = 10. Besides, the fuzzball was the only other one among the group likely to have the same privilege as LE-G8R-VO - being owned by the master Rumko Wun. After all, humans seemed to have an unnatural aversion to being owned by a superior being, something it struggled to understand. LE-G8R-VO must ensure that Rumko's property is not damaged.

The human male, Mack Granger, seemed very capable for an organic being. LE-G8R-VO noted that he was the only other one among the group who bother to keep an eye on their surroundings for potential danger. Odd how organic beings seemed to relax in these sorts of service areas, as if they were completely safe. In LE-G8R-VO's experience there was no such thing as a safe place, and it paid to always remain alert. You never knew where criminals may be lurking, and it shocked LE-G8R-VO how high a proportion of organic beings had a predilection towards breaking the law. After all, the law was there for the protection of all, so why struggle against it? Speaking of criminals, it recalled the circumstances under which it had first encountered Mack, and it seemed odd that it no longer saw him as a threat to the law. Best to keep a close eye on him in case that changed at all.

Finally, the human female. LE-G8R-VO hadn't wasted memory space storing her name. It seemed that with her frivilous and flighty nature it wouldn't be long before someone put an end to her existence. While the thought didn't make it sad at all, it did trigger protection subroutines. No, despite LE-G8r-VO's thoughts on her usefulness to both this enterprise and society in general, Rumko wanted her protected, so LE-G8R-VO would ensure her safety.

It's musings were interrupted by a priority signal. A communication from the master. LE-G8R-VO announced to the group in its highly modulated, almost harsh, voice: "We have received a holorecorded communique from master Rumko. We should cease this frivolity and return to the Secondhand Sarlacc immediately".

Arsinoe Anjuliz

Coyn/Ah’Kra/Kessel Cantina

Arsinoe winced a bit at Mack’s suggestion she smudge a bit of grease on her face. “No thanks,” she said. “Some guys like it, though?” she asked coyly. She leaned forward a bit, presenting a bit of cleavage. “And what about you, Mack? Is that what you like?” she asked, batting her long lashes. He was kind of handsome, in that rugged, needs to shave, scruffy way. Not like her Sabin’s refined elegance, of course, and she would never cheat on her fiance! But...a girl likes to be noticed and appreciated!

Arsinoe settled back as the waitress returned and mentioned the duty free shop and how difficult it would be to get permission to get to an actual shopping district. “Well, something actually tailored to fit me might be nice,” she said. “Not that I don’t love wearing your boxers, Mack,” she said, “but I could really use some feminine undergarments.”

Noe picked up her glass of Corellian brandy and took a sip. She pulled a face and nearly spat it out, coughing. “They call that brandy?” she asked. “It tastes like the Wookie’s bathwater. No offense,” she told the Wookie nervously. The large beast kind of...scared her, never having seen one before. Noe took another sip. Not so bad the second time, and she figured the more she had, the more palatable it would be. Maybe she should just get smashed and forget her life for a few hours.

The Wookie said something and Arsinoe blinked, looking back to Mack. “What did he say?" she asked, still finding it difficult to understand the creature after all these months.

The droid announced that they had just received a message from Rumko Wun at the ship and that they should return. “So eager to end the festivities, droid?” she asked it, swirling the swill they called brandy in her glass.