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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Whizbang Dustyboots" data-source="post: 9568598" data-attributes="member: 11760">Albedo rode on crowded transports between industrial sites, getting off before arriving at facilities where he'd need to show identification and explain what he was doing there. But on the long rides through near-lightless valleys, squeezed between sweaty and exhausted workers, no one cared about him or why he was there.Now he walked along a road toward a set of Targ Cartel huts. After leaving the mine, he'd watched Niff Rolan through his electrobinoculars and seen him gesturing the way Albedo had gone to a pair of Ghols and then pointed them down a road out into the badlands. The pair had gone racing off on hoverbikes that way soon after. That seemed a good place to look for leads.The sounds of a loud argument called him up short. Stepping away from the roadway, Albedo found a small rise and crawled up it, peeking over the edge.Ahead, off the side of the road, a large vehicle, festooned with warnings about explosive materials on board, had lost the treads on one side. The beleaguered driver, a Lek'tok fluttering its wings in distress, argued with a pair of Ghols dressed not for the mines, but for an office somewhere. Nearby was a low sleek luxury vehicle, although one battered by its use on this rough world. Albedo would have taken this for managers haranguing a luckless employee except for the tell-tale bulges that showed both Ghol were armed. Red Moon Syndicate made men, then, upset that things were running behind schedule for them."Don't Get Attached." The Nomad Code was very clear: Nomads are hired to do a job, not to magically clean up the galaxy. This driver was on his own.Albedo slid back down, out of sight, and rolled onto his back, relaxing and waiting for the noise to settle down.Once things quieted, he dusted himself off and continued down the road. He tipped his hat to the two Red Moon enforcers as he passed, the sullen Lek'tok, roughed up but alive, not meeting Albedo's gaze as he worked to repair the transport.The Red Moon Syndicate preferred a low profile and ran Storix through control over the planet's legitimate officials. If they were showing their hand here, they were upset about something and would be prepared to kill anyone who interfered."Nice piece," one thug said, spotting one of Albedo's pistols peeking from beneath his poncho. But his body language posed no challenge, apparently recognizing that taking on Albedo would likely go poorly for them, even outnumbering him."Nice ride," Albedo returned, walking past their vehicle and off toward the distant outpost.The Targ outpost appeared to be some sort of simple travel stop, offering hydrogen, electricity, vehicle repairs and refreshments. But the illuminated sign of a happy slug wearing overalls and holding a wrench in one pseudopod suggested that Red Moon drivers likely wouldn't be welcome here, unless they wanted to answer some difficult questions about who they really worked for.The Patch 'n' Pump offered disgusting food. A red donut-like thing filled with blue jam and dusted in a pollen-like yellow sweetener and cans of soda found across the galaxy despite no one seeming to enjoy it were the most edible things Albedo spotted on offer.A bickering pair of battered and outdated droids ran the place, which partly explained the terrible food.Albedo pulled out his data pad. The droids stopped their argument and one rotated its head towards the Nomad."Facula Albedo?"Albedo paused, tucking the data pad back away."Yes.""We were told you might be coming. Someone out back wants to talk to you."Albedo considered a moment and put the donut back. If he was going to get shot, he didn't want that to be his last meal.It was one of the two Ghol hoverbike drivers. His buddy wasn't around, or hiding somewhere out of sight. He had his pistol out, although it didn't look like he'd ever used it on anything more threatening than cans of soda."Put that away, kid, or you won't live to regret it."The Ghol's red eyes narrowed. He was jumpy, hopped up on something. The pistol whipped up and he fired, his shot going wide.It took him a second to realize that Albedo's shot did not. The Ghol looked down, eyes growing wide at the smoking hole in the middle of his chest before he keeled over.Albedo checked his hat, making sure it wasn't clipped by the kid's shot, and then went over to examine the dead Ghol's data pad.[SPOILER="What I rolled"]I rolled a 5 on the Exploration table. If I had a Notoriety of 3 or higher, I would have encountered a Lead. Instead, I roll on the Exploration Events table.I rolled a 3 and land on the second table and roll a 4 for the specific event of a Local arguing with two Hostiles from the controlling Faction of the planet. I can choose to intervene and, if successful in combat, attempt to recruit the Local as a result, or sit back and watch the argument play out, gaining 1 Favour and learn about the loud destructive machine they were arguing over.After that, I rolled a 2 on the Destination table and arrive at a small outpost or enclave run by the challenging faction. I can either Search for anyone who might know the target and gave 1 Favour or speak with a local and then rest to gain 1 Motivation.Details of the outpost were rolled using Roll & Play's Gamemaster's Sci-Fi ToolkitI choose Search and roll a 4 on the Search table: Find a Hostile who's been paid to slow me down. I chose to Threaten him, which means I add half of my Notoriety, rounded up, to my roll. Half of 1, rounded up, is 1. I roll opposed rolls for me and the Ghol. I get a 1+1, he gets a 6, meaning we move to combat instead, with the Ghol getting a +1 on his Challenge rating.I roll a 6+4 from my pistols. The Ghol rolls a 4+1 for his weapon+1 for not being scared off by the threat, -1 for my duster and hat, so he loses.I had the choice of sparing him or killing him, each giving a different stat bonus. Albedo chooses to gun this guy down, to hopefully scare off others from trying the same, gaining another point of Notoriety.[/SPOILER]</blockquote>

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