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Wayward Stars - Group A

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The Cargo Bay:

Taking his time, and thoroughly searching through the various contents of the cargo bay, Ramani manages to push past the need for a death-stick long enough to discover a significant number of things. First, the cargo bay seems smaller than it should be, based on his knowledge of the outside of the ship. Second, the crates and boxes stacked against the wall that slowly sprawl out into the middle of the room contain various dried foods, some simple metals, a few piece of a broken down dejaric table, a couple of crates of gemstones and jewelry totaling some couple of thousand credits on the black market - or so he believes based on his knowledge, and finally a strange feeling emanating from behind the crates.

With Grrowv's help, and it's lucky she is there, her burly frame allows her to lug the heavy boxes around with ease, even in her injured state. Finally, they reach the other wall of the bay, finding the source of the strange feeling. It's a draft, of sorts. More a cold feeling, a strange chill in the air that can be felt against the normal temperature of the ship's regulated climate control.

Grrowv reaches up, sliding the tips of her fingers into a small jamb and begins to pry at the wall panel, behind which is an odd light, flickering slowly. Finally, with a herculean effort, the Togorian rips the panel off, tossing it aside with a clang and heaving exerted breaths.

The compartment behind is small, but accounts for the missing area Ramani noted. Under the flickering light is something odd to the eyes of the pair, a set of what appears to be armor, but ancient in design. Foreboding panel lines, rigid and cold, then short spikes that appear less ornamentation and likely more a weapon, with a dark red paint suffuses the metal makes the thing seem angry, aggressive... Dark. 

A moment later, Torin feels something. Something that shakes his sense of the Force. Violently. 

As does Eya, though her sense of it feels more welcoming, an invitation in a silky voice.

Edited by waywardgm

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Ramani tries rather ineffectually to help Grrowv to rip off the panel, after failing to find an easy release mechanism. His effort might not amount to much, but it somehow seems wrong to stand and watch. When the panel comes off with a loud noise, he stares at the armor.

“That thing…” he begins, as he approaches the armor. “That thing is worth a lot of credits. And I mean a lot. We are all rich. We just need to find a buyer. And I can find us a buyer.” He licks his lips as he moves closer, and raises his hand as if to touch it, but something stops him at the last minute. He has a bad feeling about this.

“Well, let’s not keep our little discovery from the others. I won’t do anything until they are here,” he says, trying to keep the unease he’s feeling with the whole situation out of his voice. Man, a death stick sounds good right about now, he thinks as he takes a couple of steps back. “Hey, guys,” he shouts in the direction of the others. “You may want to see this. This is some freaky stuff.”
 

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Torin heard Ramani's shouts from the cargo hold.

"Lets see what our gregarious Balosar needs..." Torin rumbled as he headed towards the cargo bay.  Certainly the disturbance he felt in the Force and Ramani's call were not a coincidence. 

Torin stepped around crates and made his way to the hidden compartment, peering at the object inside.

"Hmmm, Chak has some eclectic interests it seems.   Dealing in cursed artifacts can be lucrative but also very dangerous.  Even if the Empire doesn't catch you."  Torin looked at Ramani.  Ramani didn't seem the superstitious type but it didn't hurt to try to press the wisdom of caution.

To himself Torin wondered if this was why the Force had lead him here.  Eya, a Force sensitive lost in the galaxy and now an object emanating the dark side?

 

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Can Torin try a Lore check to see if he knows or can figure out anything about the armor?

 

Edited by Jedi Ronin

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Torin would know where it was coming from - as soon as the plating was removed (not the way it was designed to open, but Grrowv tends to be direct). 

You can indeed, there is a lot of Lore around this particular item so the check will be against difficulty three, 3P. 

 

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The sense of the Dark Side that Torin feels is palpable, a pulsing beat that he cannot ignore. But his eyes are focused, and his memory sharp. This piece of armor, this artifact of a bygone era, is Sith in origin; how old he cannot place exactly, but it's at least Old Republic era, some three thousand years prior to the current age. The glitter of the metal is suffused with something more, something the Kel-Dor knows from his studies, the lightsaber resistant material - Cortosis. This breastplate, while archaic in design, was clearly meant for use in war. 

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Ramani licks his lips. “Cursed, you say?” He then laughs outload at the absurd statement. “Don’t tell me you belief in all that Jedi-crap? I was hoping that as a collector of obsolete weaponry you might have something more to contribute than this being cursed.”

He examines the armor slightly more carefully. He might not belief anything this Kel-Dor fraud was telling him, but there was no telling if Chak had any systems in place to protect his prize.

“So, eh, master of the arcane arts and expert in cursed artefacts. Do you have any idea how old this is? Seems to me we need to find a rich collector to buy this off our hands for enough credits to retire to some nice beach house with more women and coctails than anyone could get through, eh? And it would help to know something more about this. The more we know, the better price I can get us for it.”

 

What about the rest of you? It’s feeling a bit lonely with only Jedi Ronin and me playing…

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Here we go, sorry for delays there. 

Unsure of what to make from the sudden and surprising exclamation, and then the tall Kel-Dor moving off towards the cargo bay as if someone had set his robe alight, Crow sat for a moment in the galley, wondering what he should do. "You ok here with our new friend, Solan?" he asks the Corellian, nodding to the Twi'lek who seemed to be as impassive as ever even with the sudden flurry of action aboard the ship. "I'm just going to go and check this one out. I don't think Ramani and freaky stuff need to go hand in hand any more than they already do."

Standing, he picks up his rifle and slings it over his shoulder. Better to be safe than sorry, especially when a more than slightly twitchy fellow was hollering around the place like that. Reaching the bay just as Torin and Ramani begin their conversation, CR-0216 waits and watches, knowing better than to try and enter a conversation like this one. Way over my old head, all this. But the moment the Balosar refers to the Jedi as waste material, the clone finds himself opening his big mouth and unable to stop it. 

"I'd watch your bloody tone, slick. You might think the Jedi are some fairy tale, but I fought alongside them for years, and if you're referring to a lightsaber then I can promise it's anything but obsolete." He hears himself saying it, and hears the dangerous, low tone of a military man explaining something he doesn't want to have to repeat. He knows the kid probably won't listen, and then has to remind himself the kid has been alive possibly as long, or longer, than Crow has, but he'll be blasted if he's going to let someone badmouth people he respects. Respect, and keep thinking about how I have to bloody well shoot... 

Edited by primusnine

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Slightly taken aback by the Clone's tone, Ramani is quick to recover. "Woah there, big fella. I wouldn't be so quick to admit that. We're all friends here and all, but people seem to think the Jedi betrayed the Republic, so saying you were their best buddy might not be something you'd want to do in mixed company. And really, what in the Galaxy could make someone choose a laser sword when they can pick a blaster? If you need to defend yourself in close combat you might want one, but you'd be just as likely to cut off your own arm as you were killing your enemy. There is a reason nobody uses them anymore."

 

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"By my estimation, this armor is about 3,000 years old and it was likely used by the Sith to protect themselves against the Jedi in their many wars against the Republic."  Seeing this information was not particularly interesting to Ramani, Torin continued, "It looks like it's made from a very rare metal.  Very valuable, in theory.  Some superstitions are based in real experience and despite the information campaigns pushed by the Empire real scholars don't dispute the existence of the Force, even if they don't talk about it openly.  Even if you're not inclined to be superstitious Ramani, the Empire will consider this item to be highly illegal and it's owner subject to their Purge of Jedi related artifacts.  You'd have a tough time finding a buyer.  Maybe Chak already had one lined up?  He could be more useful to you alive than dead."

Edited by Jedi Ronin

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     Hearing the voice of the shifty Balosar, Embeetoo walked close behind his master as they entered the cargo bay, ready for any sort of ‘incidents’ he might try to pull. What an odd party he had come across: a might be Jedi, a smug and sleazy Balosar, a dangerous looking young human, a stemmy, the Togorian that likes juma, her monkey, an unknown Twilek THAT THEY ARE JUST LETTING WALK AMONG THEM WITH ABSOLUTELY NO FRAKING SAFETY PRECAUTIONS WHATSOEVER, and a devil man. This is all going to go SO smoothly, he could just tell. As long as they weren’t in the way of the Jedi and he and didn’t try to stab them as they (well, he) slept then this could work at least temporarily.

     Clanking into the bay, the droid peered at the slab of metal and spikes being surveyed by the organics. The design of aggressive, dark, and to the morbid bot almost artistic. The designs seemed to actually serve a purpose rather than be mearly decorative- efficient. That was something Embeetoo could appreciate.

     Embeetoo listened as they discussed the archaic armor up till Ramani foolishly decided to mock Torin’s blade. Walking past his Master, the soldier of steel walked in between the two, tracing the welding mark that slid vertically across his entire being. “Greasy One, I wouldn’t attempt to poke fun at anyone wielding a so called “laser sword”. His voice grew deeper and his eye turned to a dark amber as he continued, the sound of his chassis humming lightly even as his tone grew even more serious than before (if that was even possible). “I’ve seen the Jedi. I’ve fought the Jedi…” Embeetoo dug his hands across his face a bit more violently as his voice took upon a strange sense of pride, almost reverence, “I’ve FELT the Jedi. Look at me, look at my scar and explain why someone would prefer one of…those”- he says as he flippantly flips his hand towards the blaster the Balosar carries before pounding his scar with his durasteel fist, “to something that can do THIS”.

     Turning his body  to the left, the droid threw a lighter tone to his Kel-Dor ally. “Speaking of betrayal, I would ask to talk to you about your insight into the coup, Master.” Creaking to the right the droid met eyes with Crow, his voice taking a more neutral and moderate tone to the two extremes he had shown, “As well as yours, Clone. I would have thought one such as yourself would have blasted the Master in the back by now given recent history.”

Edited by Weedles and Fries

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"And you'd think I'd be the first to admit that. But it's not the truth, kid. Not by a long shot. Problem is, I don't know the real story," Crow sighs, unable to keep his voice level even though he's still irked by the Balosar's remarks. "Also wouldn't exactly say I'm their best mate, what with the whole being ordered to kill every single one of them by the man now sitting on the big seat at the center of the galaxy." The scene replays again and again in his mind. It did every day, anyway, but talking about it was not conducive to ignoring it. White snow. Victory. Laughter. Celebrations. Betrayal. Blasters. Defeat. Red snow. 

Thankfully the moment was keeping his attention fixed to the here and now, so the old soldier didn't collapse into the depression again. Torin's comments were on point, as always, his insight unsurprising given what he likely was in a past life. "Probably the case, sir. I don't imagine someone lugs artifacts like this around the galaxy without an idea in mind, or balls the size of a banthas. Sorry... That was a bit rude." 

As the battle droid stomps forward, Crow can't help but do two things. First, berate himself for forgetting the droid was there and letting it sneak up on them, and second, he reflexively reaches for his gun. But it's not an attack, he reminds himself. The B2 Unit is medical, now. And subservient to the Kel-Dor. Bloody galaxy is getting stranger by the day... More than that, it's proud of being cut by a lightsaber? The things you'd see before you die, Trooper. No one could have told you this'd be among them.

But the droid's words cut as deep as any lightsaber, as it levels the the accusation the Clone knew would come sooner or later. He sighs again, this time careful to keep his voice controlled. "Can't exactly say you're off the mark there, clanker. In fact, if I was being completely honest, and I am sorry for this, Torin... I already shot at you once. Back in the docking bay. Those doors opened and I saw your weapon, instinct kicked in and I had squeezed the shot off before I knew what was going on."

He waits, here. Expecting the droid to attack, or the Jedi. Or for his guilty heart to simply give out and let him escape the torment of his betrayal. 

"But I missed. And I'm bloody betting it was the Force at work. It was the nearest thing I have ever seen, and I can tell you now, I don't miss often. If you want to take my gun and lock me in with Chak, I will understand. Just know that I don't want to do this, never did, and I don't know why I feel like I have to. Something inside me is still compelling it, but a greater power is holding it back; the knowledge I never want to do it again. I never want to repeat the last day of the Clone Wars, ever."

The words kept tumbling out. He had waited years to say these things. Months and days of agony at his crime going celebrated around the greater galaxy while he and every other Clone he knew who had taken part in the Purge hated themselves. He remembered the taste of the gun in his mouth as he contemplated pulling the trigger, on his darkest day. He knew it was a coward's escape. He knew it would mean running from the guilt, the shame, the crime. But he had taken hours to decide not to do it. Hours telling himself he could make a difference in the galaxy if he lived, to make up for the moment he had ended the life of a dear and trusted comrade. 

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Ramani whistles. “3,000 years old, eh? That’s going to be worth a fortune. What kind of species were those Sith you mentioned. I’ve never heard of them before. Did the Jedi wipe them out?”

As Torin continues, a small grin appears on the Balosar’s face, growing wider by the minute. His plan to steal this ship had certainly paid off, big time. Now all they have to do is find a buyer without getting killed or thrown in an unpleasant prison for the rest of their lives.

“Well, fortunately for us, pissing off the Empire is not really a concern. I shot a couple of Stormtroopers back on Ord Mantel, I don’t think they’ll invite me in for tea and crumpets if they catch me. Having some antiques on board would not really change much. Perhaps the method of execution, at most. And don’t bother asking Chak. Anything he says now will be lies. He’ll never tell us who his buyer is, if he even knew. He might tell us where he got this, if we ask him nicely and he thinks he can get something out of it. Like his life,” Ramani says to Torin.

When the old battle droid barges in and starts speaking, the annoyance building up in Ramani starts to boil over. “Hey, listen, how about this. I won’t call you an obsolete, bad-smelling, over the hill, obnoxious rust-bucked and you stop calling me Greasy One? I have a name, and that name is Ramani. And for the record, I wasn’t poking fun at anyone. Merely stating that if someone has a laser sword that’s what, a meter, 1.2 meters in length, he’s going to have a really hard time not getting killed by someone a couple of hundred meters away with a nice blaster rifle. But that’s beside the point.”

When the droid refers to Torin as ‘master’ something starts to click in Ramani’s head. Could it be? Laser sword, stuck-up attitude, knows about some ancient Jedi-war. Torin is clearly a die-hard Jedi-fan-being. Probably. Couldn’t be a bloody Jedi, could he? No, that would be too much of a stretch, right?

Ramani slowly looks around in the cargo area. Here is a battle droid from the clone wars. A clone trooper. From the clone wars. And what might very well be a Jedi. Who then probably fought in the clone wars. The Galaxy sure has a sense of humor, he thinks darkly. A sick, sick sense of humor.

“Masters, eh?” he says, looking at Torin. “Don’t tell me you are one of the Jedi? If so, just to make clear, I have nothing against you guys, and all this ‘betraying the republic’ was just to try to rattle you. Ok?”

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"Yes, Embeetoo, we probably should discuss things..."  Torin was distracted by Ramani's comments.

"You don't need to worry Ramani about me Ramani, as you know, the Jedi are extinct."

Torin turned to face Crow.

"Perhaps, it was the Force at work, Crow.  I suspect we've both been betrayed and we've both decided to push forward trying to pick up the pieces of our former lives.  I've only heard rumors about what happened and you've started to help me to really understand.  I hold no grudges or hatred for you and your brothers.  Trust and camaraderie were one our greatest strengths, until the end." Torin held out his hand to Crow to shake...

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I want to say no, due that phenomenal post earlier, but we did establish it would be a long struggle for CR-0216 to overcome his Clone Trooper programming. I would set a Discipline check against a single challenge (1 red), as Crow is clearly on edge but not in a combat situation nor threatened by an imminent attack - and aware of the issues surrounding his past actions and the current situation. 

 

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Discipline check for resisting Clone programming: 3eA+1eC 1 success, 3 advantage
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Close, but we're ok! 

Hesitating, unsure of himself and the reason Torin would be so forthcoming, CR-0216 slowly raises his hand to meet the Kel-Dor's. As they clasp and shake, the Clone feels a huge surge of relief wash over him. The weight of guilt is still very much on his shoulders, but it seemed to have lessened, at least a little bit. Looking into the other man's eyes, he can see the acceptance and lack of fear, a confidence that is palpable from the Jedi. They were always so cool about everything. Crow wished he was half as relaxed; but there was some programming you could not shake, and wouldn't want to. Soldier life required a modicum of alertness at all times. 

"Right, now that we've got that sorted for the time being, what say we question Mister T'Vont about this rusted piece of junk?" the Clone asks as they break apart. 

Edited by primusnine

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     “Perhaps Loud Mouthed One is more appropriate…either that or Bu Mursto Nobo. Last time I checked, and I check often, I am but 4 years out of service, have no distinctive odor, haven’t been near a hill in over a standard month, and though refurbished am void of any corrosion. As for obnoxious, well, your one to talk , Bu Mursto Nobo.”

     Done with this annoyance, the droid droned a bit under what would have been his breath before relenting, “Your right however, arguing about another beings armament is unnecessary. You’ve obviously never seen what one can do, unlike most of us, so it would be a waste of words to continue”.

     Upon hearing the clones words, however, defense systems started to warm up instantly, a slight click of his weapons safety giving way to his protocol. Embeetoo raised his arms towards the clone, ready for his Master’s words to bring him to his grave. Even if he held nothing against him concerning the war, admitting to firing upon his master/meal ticket was another thing entirely.

     And yet, to his shock, they clasped hands. Embee just couldn’t take any more of these utterly foolish choices. “Master, are-you-serious?! The organic just admitted at an attempt to splatter your right lobe across the docking bay pavement and instead of giving me the order to eliminate a threat that was CLEARLY STATED TO BE A POSSIBLE HOSTILE! I have nothing against this clone, or clones in general, and so called camaraderie is a whole other subject, but he just admitted to withholding this information from you; who’s to say he won’t try again?!

     Snapping and crackling could be heard and felt as his sensor went completely red, shining brighter than ever before, “For such a grand warrior and marvelous strategist the Jedi are supposed to be you sure are making a colossal amount of dare I say suicidal and asinine calls!” His armed…arm…stayed outstretched towards Crow, waiting desperately for his master to wise up and think about his wellbeing for once.

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Torin released Crow's hand and turned toward Embeetoo.

"You raise some interesting questions Embeetoo, ones that I'm sure myself and Crow are asking ourselves.  So far, I've avoided the fate of many of my brothers and sisters and the various tragedies arising out of it.  Maybe my fate will be no different." Torin looked at Crow.  "And perhaps I'm too sentimental, but I'd like the chance to mend something that was broken.  Redemption is too much to ask, but understanding and a way forward seems in grasp." 

Torin turned his full attention back to Embeetoo.  "As a practical matter, we wont' be able to make our way through the galaxy very well if we kill every enemy to my kind.  I never thought I'd travel in the company of a B2 battle droid.  And it's good to know you've got my back Embeetoo."  Torin gestured towards Embeetoo's outstretched blaster arm, "but right now I don't think it's necessary."

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Master Meal Ticket...I like it

 

Edited by Jedi Ronin

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Ramani looks at the droid with a look of pity. “I speak Hutteese too, you know. My name is Ramani. If you are planning to keep my company, you can call me by that name. If that’s too much to handle, try Mr. Fenn. If you can’t use either of those, I suggest we find a port and go our separate ways. I have no tolerance for ill-mannered bullies, be they droids or not.”

He listens to the rest of the crew talking, watching the droid, who appears to be either severely paranoid or possibly suffering from some programing glitch, carefully. When the droid raises his weapon-arm, pointing it at Crow, Ramani takes a step back, towards the galley, and gets ready to draw his blaster. If the shooting starts, he will have to pick a side fast. And clearly, picking the side with the obnoxious droid is not desirable. Besides, Eya would probably defend her clone-friend, and he’d prefer to stay on her good side, seeing how ferociously she handled herself in combat.

One thing the rambling droid has made abundantly clear is that Torin is clearly some sort of a Jedi. And when Torin starts speaking, it’s clear that he, apparently, fought in the **** Clone Wars as well as the other two relics. The Galaxy clearly has a sense of humor, that much is clear. A sour, nasty sense of humor.

“Is there an oil or something you can give him to help him with his paranoia episode?” Ramani asks, looking at Torin. “He seems wound up pretty tight. Let’s just not shoot each other when we should be focusing on what to do next. Like, where we should go, what we should do with the ship, the cargo,” Ramani indicates the armor with his head, “and of course our prisoner.”

He looks sadly at the three beings in the cargo hold. “But perhaps you need to talk more about the good old days and the war and your feelings, instead of living in the present? Tell you what, you finish your reminiscing and I’ll go check out the rest of the ship. If you feel like talking about our future, just let me know.”

The Balosar has a hard time denying himself a lovely death stick after this weird confrontation in the cargo bay, but he busies himself stalking through the ship, looking for something interesting.

 

Ramani is getting rather tired of the abusive droid so he’s removing himself from the conversation for now. He’ll mostly be looking to see if there is something else interesting, such as in the crew quarters and in Chak’s quarters. If there is a check needed (for example to open doors, find a hidden safe etc. just let me know.

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None of the doors are locked, as Chak had an understanding with his hired guns regarding personal space aboard the vessel. If you want to try and find anything hidden in either room, go ahead and tell me which one you'd like to search first. 

 

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