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Wayward Stars - Group A

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Ramani smiles when Torin enters the cockpit. Who the frack is this guy? And how does he know the clone? Crow, he had called him. Were they in this together? Are they out to steal his freighter? We’ll see about that, the Balosar thinks to himself, his smile never leaving his face. He looks at Torin as he speaks. The breathing mask makes him sound like he’s just about to die of some horrible lunge disease, like an old deathstick-addict. Ramani shudders a little. He’ll have to stop using those. Soon. Today isn’t the time. And if he’s being perfectly honest, tomorrow doesn’t look so hot either. But one of those days he’ll quit.

“Yes, eh, Crow here and I were just discussing that it might be best to jump to hyperspace. Doesn’t really matter all that much where to. Just someplace not too far away. That will give us time to discuss the, eh, ah, situation we now find ourselves in and come to an amiable solution that we can all get behind regarding the future of our current relationship and the like. If you see what I mean?”

As he finishes, the droid rudely interrupts the conversation. Aren’t those protocol droids programmed to shut up when their betters are speaking? Perhaps this one is faulty. Probably indicates that he might be programmed for alternate duties. Like killing people. Well, that clone looks like he’ll be able to handle that pesky droid. Ramani suddenly realizes that he isn’t paying much attention to what the droid is actually saying. Something about the Imperial shuttles holding position. Well, that’s good. Unless they just happen run into more Imperial ships in orbit over the capital they should be almost out of harm‘s way. “Excellent, excellent. Now we just have to get clear and jump to hyperspace. Pick someplace nice, eh, Crow?”

The Balosar releases his seatbelt and gets up. He has half a mind to check out what cargo that devious Devaronian has on board. But first, a stick. He’s earned one. He really has. He is about to reach into his pocket for one, when he remembers giving Chak a deathstick earlier. As is his custom to get the people he's about to do business with (some might call it swindle) relaxed and malleable. And the rude prick just put it in his pocket, saving it for later. Well, his loss, Ramani thinks. Unless he’s managed to sneak that into his mouth after getting on board it’s time to liberate that lovely little deathstick and take a few relaxing puffs.

“I just need to take care of a little business back there, you guys just find a nice place to fly to. Call me if we run into more Imperials, OK?” he says as he walks out of the cockpit, looking for Chak and his deathstick. As he walks he idly wonders who came up with the name. Surely someone could have found a better name to market this wonderful product, no? Pleasure sticks. Euphoria-rolls? Deathsticks do have a certain bad-boy vibe going, but surely they could get sales up by rebranding?

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To avoid metagaming I should note that my intention was always to go grab back that deathstick from our Devaronian friend, once we were safe. Just to make a point. Since I know he’s up to no good at the moment (but Ramani clearly doesn’t), it might be best to allow Chak’s plan to come to fruition before Ramani tries to get his stick from him. Chatting in the cockpit can take a while.

Edited by Kymrel

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Eya watches as Ramani quickly excuses himself. Oh, no you don't, she thinks. She stands up—pursuit does not seem to be incoming—and gives Crow a tight-lipped smile. "I need to talk to Ramani alone," she says, and follows him into the hallway. She reaches out and puts a hand on the Balosar's shoulder, squeezing just tightly enough to be uncomfortable.

"Ramani. I have something to ask you."

Edited by The Shy Ion

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Eya suddenly grabs Ramani's other shoulder and stops just short of slamming him into the wall. "Are you out of your kriffing mind?"

I have been waiting for this for... I think at least a month now. 

I'm not jumping into her whole thing yet, though, so as to let poor Ramani have a chance to respond to the sudden accosting.

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Ramani is completely blindsided by this sudden aggression from the strange woman. Girl? He subtly checks to see if she's about to go for her archaic slug-shooter, but she seems to be planning to stick to some sort of verbal abuse for now. He calms down a little. "It amazes me that everyone asks me this," he says with a cheeky grin that has gotten several young ladies to come with him to his quarters for a night of passion in the past. He suspects it might not work on this angry woman though.

"I'm beginning to think they may have a point, actually. I may need to use a small portion of my cut from the proceeds from this lovely stolen ship and all the lovely stolen cargo to pay some sort of head-doctor to check me out. But honestly, I'm not to worried about it. I wonder if the Empire has some sort of support system for people who are a little bit out of their mind. Was that what you wanted to discuss with me? Or did you want to discuss how you plan to spend your cut?" he asks in an innocent tone, knowing full well that his words will probably not calm the woman down. It's just too much fun poking and prodding people who prefer to take everything a little too seriously. As he sees the anger on Eya's face he finds himself wondering how she got the scars. He sensibly refrains from asking. She doesn't seem to be in the mood to share right now.

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     Cynical as ever, Embeetoo immediately jumps to a horrifying conclusion. “You would throw your ally to a strange droid just cover your own bases? Do you expect me to bleed you like a stuck gizka? What loyalty”. The droid pulls away the man’s clothes with his cold metallic fingers enough to find the his wound before turning back to the bloodied feline, “I ask that you deposit the money YOURSELF whenever we reach civilization. I’m not about to see Bar Ally cheated out of his earnings. And as stated, keep the slow one still”.

 

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Medicine Check: Patching up Solan: 3eA+2eP+2eD 3 successes, 4 advantage
a-s-s.pnga-a.pnga-a-a.pngp-s-a.pngp-a-a.pngd-th-th.pngd--.png

With 2 ranks in Surgeon this should heal up to 5 Wounds and 4 Strain

Medicine Check: Patching up Grrowv: 3eA+2eP+2eD 2 successes, 2 advantage
a-a-a.pnga--.pnga-a.pngp-s-a.pngp-s-s.pngd-f-th.pngd-th.png

And again with those ranks in Surgeon that should boost it up to 4 Wounds and 2 Strain healed for our furry friend.

    

     Than began the show. Disinfectant vigorously layering his burn as well as he could while removing his stitching needles. In a speed unknown to organic hands the droid punctured and looped the thread through the living flesh, covering his fingertips in a moderate amount of bodily fluid before setting the bottle aside and speedily applying a paste to relieve the pain. A bacta bandage soon found its mark and within the minute Solan was looking at a perfectly patched wound. Even Embeetoo found a miniscule sense of accomplishment in doing the job so quickly…but of course he was used to dealing with humans.

 

     In fact, the only real reason if he was being truthful that Grrowv was going second was because he knew jack in regards to Togorian medical care. Or really anything with fur…such an irritating thing, and probably itchy too. “There, I didn’t even mutilate you, slow one” remarked Embee in a lighter tone as he sterilized his mitts and equipment. “Now that you know I currently mean no harm why don’t you do the same for her?” Oh Chaos, oh Chaos how he hated working with the hairy ones. Once again the medical solution was applied to her nick, a low growl emitting from his patient. The needle came next and what was once a blinding display was a bit clunkier and met with a chorus of uncomfortable sounds, the fuzz kept getting caught in the needle. He’ll need to pick up something closer to her needs if they’ll be working together thought the droid as blood continued to leak.

 

     But then as he plastered the paste on her finished stiches his sensors began to drone in his head. Defensive protocols? Already? No, just motion detection…the bound one must be up to something. Sure enough, as he creaked his head backwards Embeetoo was witnessing Chak shuffling off somewhere. Slowly ascending back to his feet the durasteel soldier tossed a roll of gauze and a stimpack towards his patient. “Apologies Togorian, I’ll return shortly. Just stick yourself and wrap it up and you both should be in better shape soon enough.”

 

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Vigilance Check: Sensing for Shuffling: 1eP+3eD 1 success, 3 threat
p-s-s.pngd-th-th.pngd-th.pngd-f.png

   

      Embee didn’t know who this Devaronian was, but considering the binds he wasn’t an ally even to his programming. He could very well be a threat…he could be treated as a threat. Without a word the metal man causally walked upon his captive and clamped his claws right around the back of the neck hard enough to keep him in hand yet soft enough to not cause too much unnecessary pain for now. He could hear him kicking and ranting as he silently drew him back in front of Solan and Grrowv’s feet and paws.

 

     “This one was wiggling away. Perhaps you should bind his legs a bit better…at all…next time”. His eye turned deep red once again as an auditory click emitted from his blaster, his arm at the ready. “Better yet, I can make sure of it.”

 

 

Edited by Weedles and Fries

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Eya twitches, caught between anger and exasperation. Something about Ramani just makes her brain want to shut down in self-defense. "This is a game to you, isn't it," she says after she recovers her train of through. "Just like it was down there. You're playing. Playing a game, playing a part... playing with fire." Her nails dig into Ramani's shoulders harder than they should.

"An agent of Vader, you told them. One of his. His!" She takes a step forward, backing Ramani into the wall. "You're lucky I didn't believe you, because if I had you'd be dead—" Her voice rises to a near-shout before Eya abruptly cuts herself off, belatedly realizing her complete loss of composure. She stands there for a moment, panting, trembling just slightly.

"There are some names," Eya eventually bites out, "that you do not invoke."

The "stronger grip than she should have" is my attempt to show fluff-level use of Enhance. If there are any objections to that, I'll edit it out, no worries. 

:)

By the way, @Jedi Ronin, if you want to have Torin sense that and jump in—feel free!

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“A game, yes, sure, all life is a game, all we can do is…” Ramani begins, but then feels Eya’s nails biting into his shoulder. That scrawny kid is a lot stronger than she looks. “Ouch, stop that. That’s going to leave bruises, you know.”

He looks at her as if he were looking at a child. “Look, clearly I’m not an agent of Vader. If you had believed that I would have asked you if you wanted to cut the line for that head-doctor I talked about. And really, why wouldn’t I use the Emperor’s biggest bully? You saw the effect. People might not believe it. But if they have a choice between shooting someone shooting at them, and someone claiming to work for a galaxy-class bad-ass, who also happens not to be shooting at them, it’s pretty clear who they’ll pick. Even if the second guy is running in the open. All it takes is just a smidgen of a doubt in their minds. Enough to buy me time to run past them.”

He tries futilely to wriggle free of her grip. “Well, I only bring out Vader for special occasions. And this certainly seemed to be one. If you don’t like that, well, we could always fly back and correct that little misunderstanding. Although, truth be told, I think they might have figured out I was lying by now. Listen, listen, how about this. If you don’t like it, I won’t do it again. Can we agree on that?”

The sly Balosar grins slightly at Eya. “So, how about we just calm down and enjoy our lovely, lovely spoils of war. Have a drink, you know.” He reaches into his pocket and takes out a small silver-colored case and opens it. “Deathstick? The finest Balosar has to offer. Imported for me specially,” he lies blithely as he offers Eya the drug.

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"Were we just discussing that? I only remember trying to work out how to make this bucket fly in a straight line," Crow retorts with a chuckle, "Suggest somewhere nice, ya reckon? Well I suppose anywhere is better than here at the moment," CR-0216 replies to the Balosar, Ramani, and in part to the Jedi Kel-Dor, Torin. Pulling into high atmosphere, and then breaking through the last of the clouds and into low orbit, the old Clone sets the ship to maintain a course while consulting the astrogation computer. Not many options in the Mid-Rim... Maybe we could head towards Ithor, or Agamar, and use the crossways there to get somewhere less Imperial. 

Tapping a couple of buttons, he lets the autopilot take over for a time while gazing at the starmap. "I'm thinking we head towards Agamar for now. Couple of days in hyperspace, get away from the ruckus here and maybe come up with a plan for what we want to do with our criminal friend... Or friends, depending on the Togorian and her partner," he muses while spinning the map around and checking different planets. 

Raising his gaze to watch the man leave, Crow catches Eya's eye, and he knows immediately she is not happy. The thin smile with no real warmth to it only cements this notion. "Right. Just try not to hurt him, ok kid?" He knows her well enough to be aware of her restraint, but given the stress of the situation they had only just escaped, he was not as sure she'd hold back on the fast talking con artist. Probably a con artist. That Vader line... Don't know if I'd ever think to pull something so ballsy. 

As she walks out, almost storming from the look of it, Crow glances towards the Jedi sitting peacefully at the comms station. Brave. I'd be staying well away from me if I were him. I don't even know if I'm going to get set off again. Bloody lightsabers. Deciding it best to talk to him, rather than let the awkwardness linger, the Clone pipes up again, "Thank you for your help at the Docking Bay, Gener... Err... Torin. You and that B2 were bloody handy in a scrap. Not surprised, given your abilities. Just need to clarify, if I could... How did you and the droid link up? I'm still on edge about that thing. I can't believe you are so calm given how many of them you probably scrapped in the war."

Yeah, good move you old fool. Bring up the war. Jedi love talking about the war. Seething at himself internally, Crow tries his best to keep his face stoic. A moment later he hears the thump, grunt and yell from the hallway, and has his answer on if Eya held back. 
 

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I just checked a random Star Wars galaxy map, but I am happy to do astrogation checks/knowledge checks and edit the post. Didn't want to miss my chance at posting during this amazing conversation!

 

Edited by primusnine

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CR-0216: Go ahead and roll Astrogation or Knowledge: Outer Rim (as it's pushing Mid to Outer) and see what you get. Difficulty set as two purple. 

Embeetoo: Nice work on those Medicine checks! And catching Chak's shuffling.

Ramani and Eya: Keep it up, this is amazing. 

Torin: I know you'll likely want to weigh in as well, looking forward to it. 

 

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"I think you helped us out more, Crow.  As for the B2, I think he's been reprogrammed to be more of a medical droid than a combat droid and he's on a bit of an odd journey.  All of us were changed by the war..."  Torin paused.  There was a small disturbance in the Force coming from just outside the cockpit.  Someone was directing the Force.

"Pardon me, Crow."

Torin didn't get very far down the hallway before he came upon Eya with a death grip on Ramani and Ramani holding up a deathstick and his trailing words, "for me specially.."

The intense look on Eya's face seem to indicate Torin had found the source of the disturbance.  The why still remained a mystery.

"Now might not be the best time start downing death sticks.  We'll want our wits about us to escape our common predicament.  It's clear you two already know each other.  My name is Torin.  What brings you here? Or if you have unfinished business, I'm sure I can wait..." Torin's voice rumbed from the mask on his face. 

Torn paused and leaned against the opposite wall and folded his arms in his robe.

 

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“Eh, Torin, hi, it’s nice to meet you, I’m Ramani Fenn,” Ramani says awkwardly. Inwardly he’s grateful for the interruption, hopefully this stranger’s presence would calm the strange, scarred girl down a little.

“And don’t worry, I think we were done here. And this just happens to be the perfect moment for a calming Deathstick. For me at least. I think Eya here could use something to calm the nerves after the firefight.” Ramani thinks about saying something more, but decides uncharacteristically to shut up and see if Eya has managed to calm herself. Very emotional that one

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"Keep your deathstick," Eya says, but she finally lets go of Ramani's shoulders and akes a couple of steps back. Then she turns to Torin again. "Sorry to make you wait. I was just... explaining some things." And not really doing a very good job of that, either.

"My name is Eya," she says in belated introduction.

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"How thoughtful of you Ramani."  The breathing mask fit Torin's dry sense of humor.

"Nice to meet you Eya."  Torin nodded to Eya.  "Always good to meet a kindred spirit."  Torin was  unsure if he pushing things but Eya must be skilled if she survived the Empire this long.

"What brings you here, if I may ask?"

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Relieved that whatever that was Eya was trying to do is over, Ramani straightens his jacket. “Suit yourself,” he says to Eya. To Torin he simply says: “I’d offer you a stick, but you don’t seem to have the intake apparatus required to really enjoy one.”

He moves a couple of steps away. “I’ll leave you, eh kindred spirits to chat. I’m going to see how our new best friend Chak is doing.” Kindred spirits. Oh, boy, was that freaky alien coming on to Eya? Is this what counts as flirting for the Ki-dors or whatever they are called?

The Balosar winks at Eya, further evidence that yelling at him and tossing him against the wall was about as effective as snaring a Gundark with a piece of string, before heading down towards the entry ramp into the ship. Once there, he sees the archaic battle droid holding the Devaronian by his neck, its blaster exposed, saying something about making sure of something.

“No, nonono, don’t shoot Chak,” the Baolsar shouts at the droid, before adding in a slightly lower tone: “Not yet at least.” He walks towards the droid and the Devaronian, past his two bandaged smuggler friends, winking as he passes them. He looks calm, but underneath the smooth surface he is really worried the droid might just shoot him. Regardless, he keeps moving. Show no fear, that’s the trick. Look like you know what you’re doing and everyone will belief you, he reminds himself silently as he watches for any sudden movement from the banged-up droid.

“Chak. Chak. My new friend Chak. Thank you so much for giving us this magnificent freighter. I’ve always wanted one, you know,” he begins. Then, unable to resist, he keeps going, when perhaps he should just shut his trap. It is a common failing with the loud-mouthed Balosar, and one that’s caused him endless trouble in the past.

“In fact, thanks to your lizard guards it took a bit of work to take your ship, but the plan came together nicely enough. All it took was a little tip-off to a certain ISB-agent, a short wait for her to gather the troops and then to use the confusion to board this rather nice vessel.”

“Oh, by the way,” Ramani says as he reaches into Chak’s breast pocket and takes back the deathstick he gave him earlier. He thinks about sticking it between his lips and blowing smoke in the Devaronian’s face, but the story potential is just too good. “It’s a shame you didn’t want to light this one up earlier, you know. It would have made things smoother. Knocked you out in about a minute or so. But you had to make things difficult. No matter. The ISB agent was a nice backup plan, and one that worked perfectly, I might add. It added more complications, true, but it was worth it.”

Deep down, Ramani still sort of knows he’s lying his ass off, for no apparent reason other than to make himself feel good and to make the Devaronian think he's been outplayed. But even as he speaks he manages to almost convince himself that this is really how things went down. In a couple of days this will be the truth to him.

Ramani carefully places the deathstick from Chak in the small silver-color case he stores his sticks in, picking another one and putting it between his lips. He yearns to snap off the end and inhale some of that lovely smoke, but waits a moment. Business first. “So. Chak. My friend Chak. Chakster. Chakmaster. Chaky. As you might have noticed that droid there does seem rather straight-forward. I would hate for him to just shoot you. After all, we are kindred spirits, you and I. Tell you what. Why don’t you tell us a bit more about this lovely ship you’ve just given us, the cargo you have on board, your secret stash, your even more secret stash of credits for a rainy day and so on? This way you can do your part to make sure we can all get along. Whaddaya say, Chak?”

 

If you want a Charm check or a Deception check to get Chak to spill his guts just let me know and I'll fail that spectacularly, I'm sure!

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Eya sighs in relief as Ramani leaves, and looks up at Torin. "It's a long story..." She trails off without being sure quite why. She had wanted only moments ago to say everything, even the parts about the Force—the parts she had not even told Crow. 

"I wasn't one of yours," Eya finally forces out. It's not what she meant to say. "But I'm running too."

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     The droid keeps his gaze locked onto the balosar as the antennaed   charmer confidently strolled straight towards Embeetoo and the former owner of this fine vessel. Exactly what was the greasy one trying at, stopping him from burning a couple holes in this criminal’s knees?

 

     Embee listened as he kept the devaronian place, Ramani chewing the scenery all the while. Yet, at the mention at the agent the clunky android began to consider turning his Dragoon on this chatty character. As his gloating continued however, Embeetoo began to get a feel for what was really going on- this organic just likes to talk. Who would use the cowardly agent as his coup de grace when she could have been his overwhelming first move?

 

     He listened stoically as the subject turned to the droid personally. So, what was the reason why he shouldn’t lay a clean kill over the floor, especially when he now knew this was the original owner of the freighter and nothing but deadweight at this point? Oh…true. If this was the captain then maybe he did have something valuable laying around close by. Credits? Weapons? Music? The balosar might have the right idea after all.

 

     As Ramani wrapped up his  speech, without a word the droid shifted his hand from the neck to the front of the criminal’s head with his fingers keeping the devaronian’s eyes wide open as Embeetoo jerked him to meet the balosar’s eyes. Click went his Dragoon, but instead of a taste of blaster fire a vibro-bayonet jetted out from under the barrel in full view of Chak’s face. Within an instant the blade found itself horribly close to the former captain’s throat and his grip tightened as Embee stared keeping his sensors on the greasy one in case this was all just a ruse.

Edited by Weedles and Fries

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Crow - Absolutely fine. If anyone else makes a Knowledge: Outer Rim or Astrogation check for the same information, they can have two boost dice to go with it. 

Torin - Of course! And I see you did, so that is all fixed up. Any time you get EXP you can save it or spend it between posts. 

Ramani - Go a Deception check against one red, two purple and add two boosts. Chak is on the back foot, wondering what the hell is going on, and desperate to not get shot or stabbed by the massive droid in the room. So his judgement is a little impaired. You won't fail! The silver tongue is strong with you, young Balosar. Based on the roll I'll have a response for him. 


Strange droid in the cockpit:

"Mister Crow, was it? Named for the avian life form native to many planets? Is this due to your skill in flying, or a reference to something else?" the awkward, thin droid suddenly pipes up following the silence of the Kel-Dor leaving. "My own designation, not that any of you have asked, which speaks volumes to your manners if I may be so bold as to add, is Es-Three-El-Three, but I get called 'Sally' most of the time. The star ship you have appropriated is the light freighter, type YKL-37R Nova Courier, fondly referred to as The Forgotten Odyssey." S3-L3 waves its arms around in excitement as it speaks, the words coming out in that same strange cadence and odd tonal variance. 

"If you would like more information about the vessel, you have but to ask. As I informed your Balosar friend, I am programmed to follow any order given without question. Please do try not to exploit this glitch in my software, it has led to some rather awful situations. Why, I remember the time Master T'Vont asked me to poison a dish that was to be served to a rival crime lord who was guesting on our ship. After he was finished dying, quite messily I must say, I was told to dispose of his body via the incinerator. I do hate handling corpses," Sally finishes with a sad murmur. 

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