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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Whizbang Dustyboots" data-source="post: 9643563" data-attributes="member: 11760">Nuuka Spaceport was a sprawling complex, occupying every part of a massive, artificially created plain. But it ran according to the workday. Although there were parts of the port ran all hours of the day and night, operated by droids or criminals.At this hour, whole wings of the spaceport were dark, except for security lighting spaced far enough away from each other to make the spaces in between very dark and very unsafe.Facula Albedo walked quietly down a broad corridor toward Hangar 66, hugging the wall in an attempt to see anyone else in the corridor silhouetted by the intermittent security lighting, but waiting at any moment for the sinister sizzle of a plasma sword unsheathing. Even after all this time, the sound could still make him flinch.Anthem Starkiller was the best pilot at the Imperial Naval Academy. Which made sense: She had grown up rich, an admiral's daughter. While Facula had to learning piloting through hours of playing Peregrine Fighter at Underslum 4's Grand Arcade, Anthem had grown up flying a military surplus Peregrine her family owned.They had grown up only a few clicks apart, but light years away in experience.Where Albedo was shy, nervous that his Underslum accent and manners would give him away in any interaction, Anthem had grown up rubbing elbows with senators and ambassadors. She was beautiful, smart and talented. And she was cruel, surrounded by similarly privileged cronies who saw the academy not as a way to decent life for themselves and their family but as the first rung on a ladder that led to the Imperial Senate, the governor's palace of Veltari or Orceron, or an admiral's flagship.Albedo being as good as he was, good enough to potentially keep some of Anthem's associates from graduating near the top of their flight class, didn't set well with them."Watch yourself, gutter rat," the voice crackled over comm channels as Albedo desperately twisted his fighter to the side, tumbling off course to avoid the twin fighters that had just dropped down in front of his ship, forcing him to choose between crashing and successfully completing the course.If he wrecked a starfighter, the cost of it would be charged to him and his family, meaning they would all spend their lives in a debtor's prison on Utov.But for members of Anthem's clique, there would be no such consequence: Money would change hands, some calls would be made, and for them, it would be written off as the fault of the maintenance droids or a software glitch.When Albedo and others from the underclass and lower class spent their off-hours using fine brushes to clean the starfighters of those who'd performed best each week, Anthem's clique found other ways to fill their time, including private dueling clubs, where they'd fence with delicate plasma swords, with the ultimate goal of giving each other harmless but impressive scars on their faces and hands, adding to their legend as fierce warriors of the Old Empire, even if their weapons were the size of a finger and were more suited to carving dinner than to hand to hand combat.And there were even worse ways they spent their time.Albedo stopped in the corridor, water dripping from the ceiling beams above him. The moon was hidden behind black clouds tonight. The four figures before him were visible only by the security light behind them. A massive hover crate floated between them."We good, friend?" one of them, a Ghol by his silhouette, called out, slowly pulling out his sidearm, as had his compatriots. They could not see Albedo or if anyone was with him, but they'd heard him step into a puddle."We're good," Albedo called out, keeping his voice steady. "Just making my way to Hangar 66. Not interested in anything else."The figures conferred quietly and then the Ghol nodded. They moved off with their cargo into the darkness. Albedo waited for the sound of their footfalls to fall away and then waited some more.At first, the cadets didn't know why they were being grilled. Their movements, their interactions, questions about their finances and interactions with those outside the Academy, probing questions about possible New Uprising sympathies -- it was all just a rush of questions from interrogation droids and the Office of Investigation.Only once the cadets gathered again in their barracks after questioning were they able to piece together what had happened: Someone was suspected of stealing starfighters parts and ammunition and selling it to the Red Moon Syndicate.Albedo was baffled. Not only was arranging such a scheme incredibly difficult, but the penalty for doing so was death. He couldn't imagine being so reckless.The Bravery Dawn was a modified Condor class heavy fighter, capable of hyperspace travel with room for a small crew or comfortable living for one. The ship was mostly in darkness, lit by distant spaceport lights and the interior lights pouring down the open boarding ramp.Itsuki Itch, apparently finishing his pre-flight inspection of the interior, was walking toward the ramp when something made him pause, and he turned toward Albedo in the darkness."The one-eyed bounty hunter arrives at last."Even half-visible in the limited light of the hangar, he was beautiful, the light from the Bravery Dawn forming a halo around him, showing off robes whiter than snow and thick black hair that flowed like a waterfall around his head."A lot of people didn't want me to find you," Albedo said, circling a little to make sure he could still get a shot off if the Mystic Order master retreated up the ramp. "Also, it takes twice as long to look with just the one eye.""Those people were right," Itch said, lingering at the bottom of the ramp. He didn't reach for the hilt of his plasma sword, but he left it clearly visible. It wasn't a toy like some swords Albedo had encountered in the past; this was a weapon that had seen daily use against some of the best warriors in the galaxy. The polished finger marks on the hilt were visible from across the hangar. "I'm doing something important.""I don't care," Albedo said, feeling the ghostly brush of fingertips across his forehead penetrating through the skull, into his brain."Yes, 'Finish the Job,'" Itch said. "You believe in something. Would you like to hear what I believe in?""Not really," Albedo said, slowly pulling his pistols from their holsters, but not raising them. "Unless it's that you believe in coming without a fight."Itch laughed silently at this. Even across the hangar, his beautiful white smile was clearly visible in the darkness, like a beam of moonlight had penetrated the clouds just for that purpose."The Mystic Order follow a philosophy we refer to as the Path. We walk it, tending to the Garden we dwell in, the galaxy as large. We seek to prevent it from being thrown into disharmony by letting anything overgrow it or having the plants cut back too severely.""You're doing a bang-up job. No disharmony in this galaxy.""Yes," Itch said darkly. "In time, the Masters and Grandmasters came to see our job as preserving the current order of things, the status quo, without questioning whether that was the way the galaxy was intended to be, if we were embracing and supporting a state of disharmony. For centuries, we have prevented the Old Empire from ever truly crushing dissent and stopped the various rebellions and resistances from ever overthrowing the imperial order. And we told ourselves we were serving the needs of the galaxy's residents in doing so. Things never got worse but we also never allowed things to get better."Despite himself, Albedo felt himself lowering his pistols slightly."Go on.""I knew I could not be the only member of the Mystic Order to have questioned the current interpretation of the Path," Itch said. "I sought out the records of our order. The ones from before we chose our current direction seemed to have all been lost to history. But here, on Storix, there was said to be a deep archive, collecting our records going back millennia. And I found myself thwarted. The records have been removed or destroyed. And the Masters and Grandmasters I had confronted in my search, worried that I might sway others to my cause, have taken to hiring armed killers to stop me."In the darkness, Albedo felt his cheeks burning in shame."But it doesn't matter," Itch said, throwing back his head, his beautiful hair falling back like a wave. He unsheathed his plasma sword, illuminating his form in violet light. "I will overthrow the leadership of the Mystic Order. And when I'm Emperor ...""Ah, there it is," Albedo growled, raising his pistols again. A blinding wave of pain, the fingertips inside his head suddenly clenching into a fist, almost dropped him to his knees."Disrespectful," Itch snarled.There was a blur and suddenly the Mystic Order Master had closed the space between them. His plasma sword crackled loudly, pulses of heat coming off it. Up close, the blade wasn't violet, but was revealed to actually be patches of swirling red and blue, consuming each other and splitting apart again, endlessly. The presence of a naked plasma sword so close to his face made Albedo's mouth go dry and he felt icy sweat coating his skin."Attempting to stop me, so selfish and short-sighted.""Do you know what you've done?" Anthem Starkiller screamed.They were alone in the barracks, the first two back after hours of questioning by the Office of Investigation. Anthem and her clique had been pulled into conference rooms for interrogation on the way back from their dueling club and she was still dressed in her black fencing gear."I told them the truth -- that I saw you three selling crates of missiles to the Red Moon!""Grow up!" Anthem snarled, hurling her fencing mask at Albedo's head. "You think we're the only ones doing it?""I don't care!" Albedo snapped, more bravely than he felt, backing away as Anthem stalked toward him. "They just assumed someone from the Underslums must have been responsible. I'm not going to a prison planet for you!""They lost their commissions!" Anthem snarled. "You selfish, short-sighted gutter rat!"She pulled her plasma sword hilt from her wrist sheath. It was a small thing, only about as big as a finger, gleaming with decorative chrome. She pressed a button on it and the hissing blade slid out, the red plasma wreathed in wisps of smoke."You don't deserve to be here," Anthem snarled, slashing at him. Albedo had to fight the impulse to raise a hand in defense, which would just get it amputated. "Everyone knows it. And no one will miss you when you're gone."The dueling club weren't serious swordfighters in the way that the Mystic Order was. But their sporting plasma swords were still weapons. Even the armor the duelists wore could only save them from a glancing blow. And against an unarmed and unarmored Albedo, the swords were deadly.But as dangerous as the weapons were, Anthem and her friends had been play-acting. They wanted scars that would look impressive in holo-portraits and on the news. This was the first time she had ever tried to truly hurt someone with a plasma sword.In contrast, Albedo had been fighting for his life, handfuls of credits or a few rations, since he was a small boy. He hadn't preyed upon others in the Underslum, but people had tried to prey upon him many times. He could anticipate Anthem's blows and not be where the blade would be by the time she sunk it into a wall or a bed or a wardrobe in the barracks."Think!" Albedo shouted, gasping for air. "What's going to happen to you if you kill me, Anthem?""Nothing," she snarled. "You're no one. The academy will be happy to paper it over for my mother. No one wants a grubby rat like you as the face of the Imperial Navy."That was true. And it stung. He'd known he was expendable and vaguely embarrassed with his presence. He felt a cool seep through him, giving him clarity even as Anthem's swings got wilder and more crazed. He side-stepped another slash and aimed a blow at her solar plexus, hoping to stun her. But it was just a glancing blow and it drove her even crazier with rage.Suddenly, the plasma sword was flashing in his face and things went dark for a moment and he smelled meat burning. His meat. A burning, sizzling line crossed his brow and into his cheekbone, destroying his eye along the way.Anthem grinned mirthlessly."You pulled back too fast. I was trying to take your head off."This time, Albedo's fist struck her square in the chest, driving the air from her lungs. She clutched at him with her free hand as she tumbled backwards. With his other hand, he flailed for her wrist, trying to keep the plasma sword from being turned on him again. As he fell onto her, he was panicked that he couldn't find the weapon, even as they slammed against the floor together in a grotesque intimate embrace, her eyes staring at the scorched remains of his left eye socket.A voice from the barracks door: "What are you doing?" Albedo looked up. An officer from the Office of Investigation. He looked back down at Anthem, climbing off her, wanting to tell her the fight was over. As he got to his knees, he saw the chrome hilt of her plasma sword, buried in the side of her ribcage, even as he smelled the scent of her own burning organs on her final breaths.The arrogance made Itch's beautiful face ugly now."You're not facing some spoiled child with a toy sword this time." Albedo could feel the mystic retreating from the deeper corners of his mind, preparing for the fight ahead.Itch raised his free left hand and jerked it to the side. Albedo's pistols ripped from his grasp, almost breaking his wrists. The guns clattered as they landed somewhere in the darkness. He quickly grabbed for his stun baton, which made Itch almost laugh."You've come so far just to die on behalf of people who won't even remember your name."Albedo knew enough not to worry about the words; they were meant to be a distraction from the blade that came up far faster than he would have believed possible.Albedo slammed his baton into Itch's fingers on the hilt of his sword, the kind of dirty trick kids used in the Underslums, but weren't likely to have learned in Mystic Order fencing academies. Itch snarled, pushing Albedo back and away from him with both muscles and the mystical powers. Albedo slid for a moment, feet having a hard time finding traction in an puddle, and then Itch was on him again.The swirling red and blue plasma sword flashed through the darkness, wide arcs to either side of Albedo, herding him into a tight ball, unable to do anything other than to retreat backwards. Itch took several rapid steps toward him, intending to plunge his blade into Albedo's chest when, like Albedo's had, his lead foot slipped in an unseen puddle. It was just a moment, but it was enough for Albedo to smash the hilt of his baton into Itch's perfect teeth, allowing him the momentary satisfaction of seeing blood and shock on the other man's face."You ... dare?"Itch was furious now. It had been years, maybe decades, since someone had dared to strike Master Itsuki Itch in such a way. He yanked his left hand again and this time, Albedo heard something in his shoulder pop as the baton was ripped away, banging off the gangplank leading into the Bravery Dawn."Time to die," Itch said, spitting out a mouthful of bright blood.Albedo slide his hand into his left sleeve, to the black leather fencing cuff he'd worn since fleeing the flight academy. His right hand emerged with a chrome cylinder, the size of a finger. He thumbed the button he'd played with a thousand times, thinking over everything that had happened to him and a sizzling red blade slid out of the plasma sword's sheath.Itch laughed now, teeth red with blood, his face lit by shifting patches of blue and red. He struck a classic fighting pose, the kind immortalized in images of Mystic Order fighting masters for thousands of years. He would batter at Albedo's puny sword until the mechanism broke or Albedo was too exhausted to hold it up. Then he would change grips and, with a backhand stroke, take the Nomad's head. It was a dance as old as the Order and familiar to people throughout the galaxy.But that wasn't how people fought in Underslum 3. The chrome cylinder changed hands in midair and Albedo slashed sideways, not at Itch's blade like Mystic Order Masters were supposed to fight, nor at his face or torso like a dueling club champion would. Instead, he severed the mystic's hands at the wrist. They and the plasma sword bounced off to the side, boiling the water from a nearby puddle in the hangar."'Always Finish the Job,'" Albedo panted pointing his skinny plasma blade at the shocked mystic. "You can try and sway your order with your grand vision for the galaxy, or you can be a martyr ..."And then it was Albedo whose eyes flew open in shock. Itch suddenly blurred once again, lunging at him, clasping him in an intimate embrace, the tip of Albedo's red blade fizzing out his back, having gone straight through his heart.[SPOILER="Rolls for the climax of the story"]Rolled a 5: "If your Notoriety is 3 or higher, you encounter a lead." Having encountered two leads before, this becomes encountering the Target.Roll first for the Showdown site. I roll a 6: "You catch p to them at their starship, just as they're preparing to board and leave."  Which works out great, since that's the way this story has been headed.Now a roll for the Setting, which flavors the site. I roll a 3: "It's night time, and you're both only lit by the moon or artificial light sources."Now we roll for some more details on the mysterious Itsuki Itch. I roll a 6 on the Target table: "Bathed in light or shrouded in shadow, they wear the robes of the Mystic Order. They appear calm, despite the situation.  Resolve all: What is the Order trying to achieve by maintaining a presence here? Speak with them. They Attack you in Melee with a distinct, glowing weapon (+2 attack, +3 defense)."Once the story and flashbacks are over, the final fight begins. Albedo still hasn't replaced his armor, which means all he has for defense are his two motivation rolls to reroll attacks.Albedo rolls a 5+2 for the first use of his stun baton, for a 7. Itch rolls a 6+2, for an 8. So we burn a Motivation point and force Itch to reroll. He gets a 3+2 for a total of five. Itch loses his first of three Defense points.Albedo rolls a 2+1 for a 3 with his stun baton. Itch rolls a 2+2 for a 4. Using the second (and last) Motivation points to reroll Albedo's roll. This is a 4+1 for a 5. Itch loses his second Defense point.Albedo rolls a 6+1 for a 7 with his stun baton. Itch rolls a 3+2 for a 5 with his plasma sword. That's it for Itch's Defense points.Switching to Anthem Starkiller's plasma sword for narrative reasons, but using the same stats as the stun baton.Albedo rolls a 5+1 for a 6. Itch rolls a 1+2 for a 3."If you manage to defeat them, choose to capture them to gain 2 Favour, kill them to gain 1 Favour or let them go and lose 2 Favour. Then move to the Epilogue."I don't see a defeated Itch going quietly, so death it is. +1 Favour for Albedo.Next up: The final turn, the Epilogue.[/SPOILER]</blockquote>

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