Jump to content


  • Content Count

  • Joined

  • Last visited

Everything posted by aclarkbr90

  1. On his way back to his quarters, Worra stopped by the quarters of the newest member of the crew, Bennar [ @TheGuardian118 ]. "Doctor," said Worra, with an outstretched hand. "Welcome to the crew.:" Worra paused for a moment, considering his decision carefully. "I've been thinking of a personal upgrade of sorts," Worra explained, as he passed his datapad to Bennar. "Things might get hairy down on Tython, and I want to be sure that I have an edge." Worra's datapad had an image of Athakam MedTech Cybernetic Eyes, Mod III. Worra knew that a single eye should do the trick. Athakam was renowned for the integration of a cybernetic eye with an organic one. The implants were typically grown from modified stim-cells, perfectly matching the patient's species. "If I purchase one, will you be able to install it? Recovery time is not a luxury that we have right now, so it would need to be quick, effective, and suitable for immediate use."
  2. Worra stepped back, momentarily perplexed by the reaction. His eyes narrowed, and he growled back at the statue, "It's good that you are dead. The galaxy has too many warmongers. No, you will not have the chance to bring more horror to the world. Your remaining existence will be no more than that of a pet."
  3. Worra approaches his Omwati shipmate, who is busily investigating the ship's AI. Worra draws his blaster and slides it across the table to Shard. "When you finish up with that, I figure I ought to have a little better gear as an agent of the law. You mind tinkering with this a bit? I got a custom grip installed on it, but the trigger is a bit twitchy. Is that something you could fix?" @TheShard [The blaster doesn't have any previous mods, so it should be 3 purples to install the mod, assuming reasonable parts are available on the ship. Worra will of course pay for the parts] [OOC: Worra is definitely spending his XP to pick up the Marshall specialization. @April Any chance the cargoship could be contracted to bring a pair of cybernetic eyes suitable for a Kel Dor? Is that a negotiation roll?]
  4. "Then again, a deposed monarch is not the best image for a Democracy," mused Worra, not realizing that his comments might be insulting. Despite his diplomatic training, Worra often lacked the tact required to get his way.
  5. Worra stood, surprised by the convincing nature of what he had moments ago presumed to be an AI. He collected himself, remembering not so long ago he was an aspiring diplomat. "Forgive me, your Lordship," said Worra. "Your species has a way of preserving the deceased? I am most impressed. The Sith you speak of. I had not realized that they were once a species. For now, they are a religious order that has no ties to one race or another. And they seek to upend the galactic order and the fledgling democracy that we have sought to establish." Worra paused for a moment, considering Dr. Andunie's questions as well. "We are most interested in the wisdom of a King, and we would certainly be pleased to reciprocate if there is anything that we might do for you. I can only imagine what it might be like to have a deceased form bound to a statuette." [Can we make a charm check to chill him out a bit and get him to open up?]
  6. Worra momentarily leaps to his feet, nearly spilling his celebratory glass of Corellian Whiskey. For a moment, Worra suspected he was going to have to have a crash course in engineering, if the ship had been hit by debris in hyperspace. Slowly realizing that the commotion was no more than a bit of tom-foolery between Yorik and a statue, he took his seat and began to drink again. "Yorik, sounds like you've fallen victim to a parlor trick. They make all kinds of noise makers and prank-in-a-boxes at Flerbos. What you're looking at is probably a droid brain and a pinch of commercial-grade detonite. Probably an illegal use, though the vendor's surely been punished enough. Now wouldja turn the **** thing off?"
  7. Worra nods thankfully to Dr. Andunie. "I hadn't intended to take this turn, but its clear that the Republic lacks the tools it needs to enforce the law. I'm happy to be part of that effort." Worra checked his Republic Registration ID and was pleased to find that it was already updated with the new title and a tiny gold star next to his name. Its the little things, he thought.
  8. "Marshall," says Worra. "Good to see someone is looking after this rock. No need for the title on my part. I've taken a leave of absence from my official responsibilities in the Allied Planetary Government on New Taris, and have been pursuing several personal investigations, albeit still in the public good." Worra carefully inserts the note into the scanner cell installed on the forensic droid. The cool air in it hisses as it seals shut, protecting the evidence. "Marshall, we need to know who sent us this message. And why. I think you'd agree we'd both be better off if its the lawmen, not the crime syndicates, who determine the rules of the game out here."
  9. Worra glowered at the note. His fist tightened momentarily as he recalled the half-eaten body of Gonothar the Hutt, laying to rot in his own throne. Worra released the tension in his fist and let out a slow breath. He collected the note, carefully folding it into a pouch on his utility belt. I'd better pass this on to a forensics team and see if they can ID it. "Whoever wrote this may have taken offense to some of the transmissions I sent for New Taris, but they are also surely interested in our next steps. Astrid, your advice is sound. Let us keep our wits about us."
  10. Worra cautiously steps to the pedestal. "Someone predicted we would be here," he observes. [Reading the note - what does it say?]
  11. Realizing the situation might rapidly turn desperate, Worra skimmed the holonet for information on Acklays. Maybe there is some way to calm one, he thought. Mating calls, prey, not much of use in here, thought Worra. Then he paused. There was an mp3 file labeled "soothing Acklay noises," which he excitedly downloaded and played across his collar amp. For a moment, he smiled smugly beneath his mask. But then, the cacophonous roar of bad counter-disco blasted through the hallways. The Acklay snapped to attention before Worra could flip off his speakers.
  12. "Shooting just not my thing," said Tycho. "But put me in a speeder and I'll be able to make tracks." Tycho edged closer to Ella and turned his shoulder to whisper. "Easy Ella," whispers Tycho, loudly enough so that the Weequay could hear, but quiet enough that it looked like he was trying not to be heard. "Do you really intend to share all six canisters of tibannia gas we found? Maybe we could just let them think we only have two? They are all currently stashed in the glove compartment, though if we get to the speeder first, we could slip four of them under the seat. A single canister is more than enough to cover their costs."
  13. "If its just a drop-off, then I'm sure we can find a seat on an interstellar cruiser that will get Nix where he needs to go safe and sound," Worra proposed. "No need to head to the Gordian Reach ourselves." Worra pulled up the galactic map on the holo-display and pinned the coordinates for Yavin and Tython. "Tython is quite the opposite direction. We'd be stuck on the Hydian Way for the better part of two weeks." Worra zoomed in on a portion of the Hydian Way close to the core. "Here, the Brentaal System. There would be plenty of transports leaving from Brentaal IV, and then its only a short trip from Brentaal to the Deep Core." Worra was not eager about the thought of traveling into the Deep Core. The Hyperlanes there tended to be quite unstable due to the prevalence of black holes, which could easily rip a hyperlane apart, atomizing anything within it. Normally, explorers would have to apply for a permit to travel through such dangerous territory, though Worra doubted his allies were interested in going the legitimate route.
  14. "Let me see if I have any record of a contact with the Mining Clan. I have a few old buddies who have wound up as inspectors in one capacity or another. Let me put out a line and see who bites..." Worra used the Hind's communications to send a message to one of his colleagues, hoping he'd hear back in a few hours. Just a few minutes later, a call came in on the ship's holomessenger. A Miralian woman emerged from the messenger, with the typical translucent blue look of a hologram. "Worra Kokru. You're a long way from New Taris. Not into any trouble, I hope? Some diplomatic entanglement, I assume." "Brenda Iliand, glad you see your face," replied Worra. "Its been a while. Brenda, we are headed to the Gordian Reach, to the Yavin system. I understand the Trans-Hydian Mining Clan has taken an interest in Yavin Prime. Any idea who the Mining Inspector might be in that sector?" "As a matter of fact I do. Tarly got stationed out there." Worra grimaced at the name. "He's one of the junior inspectors. You remember Tarly Lacem, right Worra?" "Its sad thing to see the fall of the civil service." Worra replied. "A halfwit responsible for inspections of a dangerous mining operation? Who is that making safer? At least, the contact will be useful, Thank you Brenda, you have been most helpful." Worra shut off the holo-messenger, and the image of the Miralian blinked out. Tarly Lacem, Worra thought. The galaxy certainly is an odd place. I hope he doesn't recall when I denied his application to the Model Galactic Senate team. He would have certainly cost the team a chance to rank, though it seems silly now.
  15. Worra skims through the mercantile files on his datapad. "The Yavin system, yes, here's the file. Gordian Reach sector, far into the Outer Rim. Yavin Prime had a fairly active trade in Corusca gems, though the industry has since shut down. It seems there was an Imperial embargo on the planet for the better part of six years. I wonder why..." Worra continued scrolling through bland economic and census data until he go to one post that stuck out. "Hmm... the Trans-Hydian Mining Clan seems to have recently reinvested in the system and has an open employment call. Might be a reasonable way to slip into the system if we don't want to draw too much attention."
  16. Exhausted, Worra stumbles out of his speeder in the Hind's lower bay. He attaches the speeder to one of the loose charging ports, cycles through the outfit options in his holo-suit to find something more sociable, and then he makes his way to the bridge. "Shard, have you sent out a distress call?" asks Worra. "The authorities may need to know about the accident here. Perhaps a private channel, as I don't think we want to make our participation known, in case any Imperial ears are listening." Worra also pulls out a travel pamphlet that he picked up in the mall and slides it across the table. "It says here that Flerbos has the best prices on re-breathers, corrugaters, and atmospheric stabilizers. No mention of rampaging Sith Lords or Death Troopers. I guess they were just hear for the unbeatable prices, right?"
  17. Worra drew his sporting blaster and returned fire at one of the Death Troopers. "Stand Down, Trooper. You have no authority here," he shouted through his collar amp, still trying to help as many victims escape as possible. One of Worra's blasts struck an advancing trooper in shoulder. The recoil on the blaster shook him, nearly dropping the Neimoidian that he was helping to carry. The man's face wrenched in pain. Worra dropped his blaster for JSE to pick up as he hurried out.
  18. Worra taps into the mall's com systems, realizing that they would need to get any survivors out quickly. He switched on the microphone to record his message. "Attention, shoppers!" he announced. "Please exit the mall in an orderly manner as quickly as possible. Your safety is our ultimate concern." The red light on the terminal blinked out, indicating that the message had been recorded. The terminal then displayed MESSAGE RECORDED. ADDED TO THE QUEUE. SCHEDULED TRANSMISSION TIME 26:00. Blast, thought Worra. That transmission won't be much use in nine hours. Worra climbed to the floor and heaved one of the injured onto his shoulder, directing the other survivors to the exits. "You there, help me carry this one. There's an exit by the oil bath dispensary on the lower level. Let's get you out of here, now."
  19. Realizing the grenades would be too much for JSE to handle, he set the droid on patrol again. He then flipped on his collar amp and began to ridicule the Acolyte. "Kul, this day is your last in this body. Though you may escape into another, the remainder of your existence shall be nothing more but a game of lothcat and mouse. You will be on the run for an eternity, while we track you down and kill you over and over again. You will dishonor your name. Your master shall renounce you. Your plans shall never come to pass due to your own incompetence." Worra knew his words would do little to harass the dark Acolyte, but he hoped his distraction might let Yorik score a blow.
  20. (ok Worra won't make the droid attempt that. Its almost guaranteed to fail. I was just imagining it would carry them up and then just press the button.)
  21. Worra's mind felt back to a conversation that he had with Yorik a few weeks ago, during the long hyperspace haul off of New Taris. Yorik had explained that he had a sort of "danger sense," as he put it. Almost as if he could detect things a split second before they happened. He had suspected that this might be through the Force. But there was something odd about it - it only seemed to work on living beings. Yorik couldn't anticipate the actions of droids the same way. I wonder if Kul is tapping into the same thing... Worra thought. If he was, then any droid would have an easy time of sneaking up behind him given the chaos of the firefight. Quietly, he strapped a pair of noise grenades onto the sides of JSE. Using his datapad, he turned off the droids lighting and its audio sensors, knowing that the noise grenade might destroy anything that could detect noise. If the trick worked, Kul would not be able to detect the droid until it was too late, and the droid would likely be able to escape unscathed. He then directed it to fly around behind the Acolyte as quietly as possible and detonate both grenades.
  22. Worra's gut wrenched as the prisoner was executed. He caught eyes with Yorik from across the way, who looked equally aghast. His mind was racing. How can we stop the madman? he thought. Better keep him talking. "Acolyte Kul," he shouted down, his voice booming through his collar-amp. "It would be a pity to have an audience with you and not to learn of your ways, your teachings. What is it you and your master are looking for? Tell me of your beliefs. Help me understand."
  23. Realizing that interfering with Kull might be more dangerous than it is worth, Worra flipped off the terminal. He sorted through the outfit options on his holographic costume to select an officer's uniform that seemed to fit the situation and then ducked in, making his way toward Oble's along one of the back corridors, keeping an eye out for troopers or for his allies.
  24. Worra stepped to a terminal and scanned the map, noting fastest, quietest route to Oble's and trying to determine the position of his allies and the troopers. He then thumbed through the program, trying to find access to the intercom system. Perhaps a bit of distraction would buy the time they need...
  • Create New...