Star Wars Saga: Dawn of Defiance - Episode I: The Traitor's Gambit

[Silverbird]

A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away...

STAR WARS - DAWN OF DEFIANCE
Episode I
THE TRAITOR'S GAMBIT

It is a dark time in the galaxy. The evil Galactic Empire has spread from the Deep Core to the Outer Rim, and everywhere the Empire's tyranny can be felt.

Fleeing from the oppression of the Emperor's minions, agents of Senator Bail Organa have run to a remote space station above Brentaal. Known to be a vocal opponent of the Empire, Organa may be the last hope of freedom in the galaxy.

In the hopes of stopping these dissidents before they can reach the Senator, the Empire has alerted its forces on Sel Zonn Station, where the struggle for liberty rages on, and the first sparks of rebellion have begun to burn. . . .



​

Hanging seemingly motionless amidst the sea of starships and satellites over the twinkling world of Brentaal, there was little about Sel Zonn Station that seemed remarkable. It was merely one of over a dozen XQ2 Space Platforms in orbit about the world, a mass produced hub used to regulate traffic and provide galactic travelers with one final chance to rest, relax and prepare before setting off for parts unknown. Life aboard the station had suffered over the last few years, as the spreading chaos of the Clone Wars was felt even here in the Galactic Core, chilling trade and travel; but now, it was said, the galaxy was entering an era of peace and stability under the firm hand of their newly-appointed Emperor, and prosperity was sure to return...

... for the right sorts of people, at least.

In the months since the rise of the Empire, a rift has begun to divide the inhabitants of Sel Zonn Station. It has been a slow, creeping change, beginning with the appointment of a new station manager, a reward for loyal service during the war. A squadron of troopers are deployed to help local security maintain order, and then another. A Twi'lek's restaurant is closed, bolstering the profits of their human competitor's cantina. A family of Duros are evicted from their home on the upper levels to make room for a trader from Coruscant. Though nobody speaks openly of the changes, an understanding has begun to spread throughout the community. The wealthy, the connected, and especially those with Imperial ties — the station is theirs, and theirs alone. The station's poorer inhabitants, especially the non-humans, have found themselves steadily pushed to the station's fringe, to secondary sections and darker corridors that seem to receive less and less maintenance each day.

Still, life continues, and many of the station's transient visitors barely seem to notice the change. Each day, the station's Promenade is still filled with the bustle of revelry and commerce. Cries of victory and moans of defeat still spill out from the doors of the gambling halls. Local bands still fill the cantinas with the sounds of their music. Shopkeepers still hawk their wares to passerbys. So what if it is done under the watchful eye of Imperial patrols? So what if a Neimoidian, Chevin, or Rodian is occasionally stopped, questioned, and marched away? It is a small price to pay for peace.

Isn't it?

There is one thing that makes Sel Zonn stand out from the mass of similar stations that surround it: a rumor heard only in certain corners of the underworld, or amongst those of the station's upper class most inclined to gossip. There is, they say, an information broker on Sel Zonn; a budding crime lord in possession of secrets from across the galaxy. The station's authorities deny any such claims, of course, but the stories continue.

It is here — on the lively Promenade of Sel Zonn Station — that this story begins.

OOC:
Everyone, please introduce your character somewhere aboard the Promenade. You're welcome to come up with any reason you'd like for them to be there, and to invent stores or any other details you need; but if you'd like, here are a few points of interest:
- Gundark's Cantina: a typical cantina, open to everyone and with plenty of secluded booths for private conversation. The owner has a slight anti-alien bias but non-humans are still welcome there.
- The Credit Chip: a popular casino where one might play sabacc, pazaak, or other games. The owner is quietly unhappy about the Empire's recent changes.
- Mechanical Allies: a droid repair and sales shop, run by a Twi'lek who is savvy enough to pay off Imperial officials from time to time.
@kckolbe, @Yellow Brick Road, @Anla'Shok: I have ideas about what might bring your characters here, if you'd like a suggestion!

 

[Tenshi]

Ami Shatterstar

A hard bodied redhead in denim trousers and a white crop top with black strikes stood on one of the station windows looking out at the stars beyond. Ami Shatterstar wasn't bothered by the eyes she attracted with her tight tummy, hip tattoos, and the lower curve of her breasts bared by her top. She really did like the attention. But...

She was far from home... Ami had been off planet recently on a business trip with her father--a man who didn't share hers and her mother's special gifts--when word came that the Jedi had turned on the Republic. Footage showed a Jedi Master trying to murder Chancellor Palpatine and scarring him in the process. Among the Zieson Sha the treachery had come as no surprise. Zeison Sha histories told of their ancestors being abandoned on a dangerous planet by the Jedi. When they made contact with the Jedi again millennia later, they'd had to fight to stop the Jedi from stealing their children.

Of course these people had turned on the Republic. It had been centuries coming. The Senate had been wise to prepare orders for their troops to destroy the Jedi when it happened.

The clones must have shot them in the back, right? The clones had acted decisively. Ami was one of the few members of her order who wasn't cheering when she heard. She'd said to one of her teachers, "Grandmother... I think we should pray for those soldiers. The Jedi lead them into battle. The Jedi were their comrades. They can't be happy, having to fight the Jedi."

Maybe these words somehow stuck with Grandmother Trill. When Chancelor Palpatine was declared Emperor, Grandmother Trill had sent a hyperspace communication to Ami. "Travel the galaxy, little one. You have empathy and clear sight. I want your opinion on this new regime."

 

[Ahlanna]

Shuddering to its place in the docking bay, the whine of the transport's engines faded to nothing. Within the belly of the ship, Ada'koyi was busy ignoring the chatter of the human in the next seat.

"Uh huh … I see … yeah …" Lekku criss-crossed in a sign of annoyance, Ada pretended to study her datapad intently, while murmuring the occasional response to the persistent guy's yapping - on whatever topic he's going on about, Ada hadn't really been listening enough to be sure.

"So, is this your stop?" Turning suddenly to face the fellow, Ada gives a little smile, in human fashion, with her lips. Please, let it be so.

"Wha- Brentaal? Nah, I'm headed on for Coruscant, at the end of the line. I've got a gig lined up with a Representative's security. Pretty sweet pay for babysitting … hey, I could put in a word for you, if you like? They did mention they're looking for people mustering out – actual military experience is pretty rare, at least with an honorable, like us."

That was true. The Republic military hadn't been around that long. Having signed up right at the outset, Ada was one of the few whose terms had actually run out. And most of those had re-upped for another tour. An Imperial tour.

One lekku slips to the side in a rylothian frown at the thought. Fortunately, the human didn't know ryl, so he didn't catch the expression. Coruscant was her homeworld, after all, and her pass would take her that far … but would she recognize it when she arrived? And she'd have to find a job. They'd all ask why she didn't re-up herself. How was she supposed to answer that?

It was hardly the first time Ada had pondered this on the trip down the Perlemian, a niggling worry that had grown with each stop en route. Here, at the penultimate station, it felt like a veritable pit in her stomach.

But Brentaal was a major commerce world. Even more so than Coruscant itself, thanks to a felicitous location. And military experience would be even less common here – away from the capital of the Republic. Empire.

Ride the motherfucking storm. Ada may not have been raised on Ryloth, but that didn't mean she didn't take the twi'lek's credo to heart. Adapt, adjust. Roll with the galactic punches.

Nodding slightly, Ada turns to the annoying fellow, "Oh, that's sweet of you, of course. But I'm afraid this is *my* stop."

There. Committed now, she quickly gathers up her things – there's not much. But she did have a trusty blaster, and armoring under her jacket. And with those two things, surely she could find some corp needing security.

A query to a dockworker results in a mention of a cantina. Those were usually good places to get a little information. Or at least to get a little drunk. And hey, that wasn't exactly the worst way to pass the time.

One foot after the other, Ada makes her way towards this 'Promenade' place.

 

[Penny]

Litki needs a job yesterday.

The Jawa hurries through the Sel Zonn's halls with anxious speed, the scent of burning metal lingering in the air as she passes. She's more desperate than she's ever been since leaving Tattooine. Closer to home, it was easier to find people who spoke decent Jawa Trade - any given ship would have someone competent enough to negotiate a job. But her latest job had taken her too far out. Half the ship captains here haven't even seen her people before, let alone know her language. She understands them well enough, of course, but that doesn't do her much good when she can't even start the conversation.

She'd thought her last captain wanted to keep her on the crew, she really had. Instead, he'd turned her loose with her pay and words that made it clear they wouldn't work together again. That money had disappeared quickly; now, she has nothing left, not one credit on her chip. All she has is her equipment - too old and worn-out to sell, as if that's even an option - and three days' worth of tasteless rations before she officially begins starving.

Thankfully, she'd overheard mention of a droid shop on the station from two humans. One was griping to the other that the shop's owner - a non-human, like Litki - is a liar and a cheat who sells unreliable merchandise. Litki doesn't know if the human was telling the truth or just dissatisfied, but she can trust the shop itself exists, and if so, there just may be an opportunity there for someone of her skills.

Litki understands more Basic than she speaks, and finds the shop - Mechanical Allies - without too much difficulty. Stepping inside, she scans the merchandise and spots what she needs in the corner: a protocol droid. Ignoring the shop's staff for a moment, she crosses the room to the droid and slaps its side to get its attention.

"To ba!" she demands. <<Do you know Jawa Trade, droid? Tell your owners I'll do mechanical and programming work for them. High quality!>>

 

[Anla'Shok]

The ship owned by her Ithorian Colleagues landed at the station, She helped them unload as they made their preparations to help out at the Hydroponics farm on the station. As they finished a round of hugs and chatting for a bit she finally spoke to the group of Ithorians. " Thank you for all your help in tending to my health and giving me a place to work and live, While I looked for information about my friend. I won't say this is good bye but see you later. Even if I don't find what I am looking for with this broker I will still send you a message to know fi you should expect me back or not. Thank you all for everything. If things don't Pan out I hope I can return to you all. Thank you all again for being so good to me." Monisa teared up a bit and so did they Ithorians as the said their final well wishes and assured her she would always have a place with them. She wiped a tear away and gave them a truly warm smile. she thought to herself partings should always end in a smile. With that she gathered her small amount of belongings. Her field kit which carried most of her belongings. She did a final check that she had all her belongings taking her time and with one final wave she headed off to find this information broker. The ithorians waved and wished her safe travels and good luck on her journey.

 

[kckolbe]

Maj-Esyuu, or Maj as he was called by the informal denizens he found himself interacting with, did not particularly care for Gundark's Cantina. The owner was known to be less friendly to non-humans, but such prejudice was hardly binary. As a cerean, a near-human species known for relative peace and a mind for business, he was tolerated more by those who would view other species less charitably. In addition, he was wealthy, which influenced a lot of opinions.
But just as pragmatism allowed him a private booth in a cantina owned by a bigot, that same pragmatism led him to patronize such an establishment. Information on Imperial patrols, their timing, locations and ship classes would be vital knowledge for his work. Smuggling Force sensitives made for relatively small profit margins, so making that work more efficient was worth putting up with a lot of distaste. He had an information broker to meet.

 

[Yellow Brick Road]

Zorah took a moment to appreciate the truly unique environment of the cantina. While it smelled awful, it had a certain charm to it. She had not been fond of her quarters in the Jedi temple, but it became an acquired taste. This was much more in her nature. She recalled the sprawling cantina districts of Coruscant and Corellia. Spilled drinks shared over poorly cooked meals, all sold at the highest margin the local riffraff was willing to let you get away with. It all reminded her of a place that now seemed impossibly far away.

"Relax, Maj. It's not like we've never done this song and dance before." The diminutive jedi spoke in a soothing manner. She could feel the disturbance in her companion's emotions, though he hid it well enough. A rowdy cheer went up in the distance as someone bested someone else in a card game that Zorah was unfamiliar with. "You would think a man of your profession would be used to dives such as these by now." She gave him a wry smile as she let out the jab. "Though, I must admit, I'm not particularly fond of the management myself." Zorah spoke in a hushed tone, careful not to let her words travel. She wasn't brilliant, but she was smart enough to maintain a low profile. Jedi were worth a lot these days.

 

[Silverbird]

@Penny

Up close, Litki could see that the protocol droid was clearly a bit of a patch job. While it had all been painted uniformly, and generally appeared well put-together, a trained eye could tell that its parts had been taken from a few different models, retrofitted to slot more-or-less smoothly together. Furthermore, at least one of its legs wasn’t working properly; the droid was leant against the wall for support, and started upright at her touch.

“Well, how rude!”

The droid fixed Litki with a cold, mechanical stare as it addressed her, speaking Basic and affecting an offended tone. “I’ll have you know that I’m fluent in almost two million forms of communication,” it said, “and hardly any of them initiate conversation by slapping their intended partner.” If it could have sniffed disapprovingly, it would have.

Their exchange didn’t go unnoticed. “Hey!” A gruff voice called out from behind the store’s counter, followed a moment later by its owner leaning out to see what was happening. True to what Litki had heard, they were a Twi’lek; a man, grey-skinned, wearing a set of mechanic’s overalls. “You break anything back there, you bought it, understand?”

The statement seemed almost reflexive; it took the man a moment to actually spot Litki, and once he did, a calculating expression crossed his face. “Jawa, huh?” He muttered, mostly to himself, before addressing his droid. “They say what they’re selling?”

“Work, apparently,” the protocol droid looked up from Litki as it responded. “Mechanical and programming skills, they say. ‘High quality’.” It sounded doubtful, but the Twi’lek rubbed his chin thoughtfully regardless.

“Hrm… no, no, can’t say I need another set of hands right now,” he shook his head. “Could use some parts. You got anything worth selling?”

—

@Ahlanna @Anla'Shok @Tenshi

By coincidence, Monisa and Ada found themselves walking alongside each other as they entered the Promenade, heading in from the same docking port. The Promenade itself was busy at this time of day, teeming with people, but as the two made their way through the crowd, they noticed a few men who didn’t seem to be part of the crowd. Interspersed throughout the Promenade were a few human men in similar-looking jackets, who seemed to be watching what was happening around them, and occasionally muttering into collars — perhaps into concealed communicators? Two of them were nearby, up on a raised walkway, and seemed to have their eye on a young redhaired woman looking out one of the station’s windows, while a third was standing opposite the entrance to a cantina. For a moment, Ada felt sure he was looking right at her — and then she saw him whisper into his collar once again.

And a moment later, Ada found her way barred by a pair of Imperial soldiers. They were wearing the new, white armour of Imperial Stormtroopers, so shiny and clean that it may well have been brand new, and each held a blaster rifle loosely in their hands; relaxed, not ready to fire, but not holstered, either.

“You there, hold it.” One of them addressed her, holding up an armoured palm to indicate that she should stop. “You have paperwork for that blaster?”

The sounds of their conversation drifted up to Ami on the walkway above, who had not yet noticed the men observing her.

—

@kckolbe @Yellow Brick Road

Speaking of the management: who should appear at Maj and Zorah’s table a moment later but the man himself? They called him “Gundark”, the cantina’s namesake, partly down to his appearance; from the scars on the side of his face, and the way half his earlobe seemed to be torn off, it looked like he might have lost a fight with one at some point in his past. Or won one.

Fortunately, he didn’t seem to have overheard Zorah’s comments. In fact, he appeared to have drinks for them; two tall glasses of some cloudy, green liquid which he set down on the table before them. “Courtesy of the ‘gentleman’ by the bar,” he said, jerking his head roughly towards the centre of the cantina, before shuffling onwards. In the direction he’d indicated sat a Chadra-Fan — a small, bat-earred alien not commonly seen on the station — who was waving, cheerfully.

Just past the Chadra-Fan, Maj and Zorah saw a dark-haired woman slip out of a door leading to one of the cantina’s back areas, holding her side tightly as she slid something into her jacket. She hurried towards the cantina’s exit, looking a little unsteady on her feet; and as the door she’d just come through slid shut behind her, Maj-Esyuu got a brief glimpse at what was on the other side.

There was a man lying on the ground back where she’d just come from, either unconscious or dead. And he was wearing the grey uniform of an Imperial officer.

 

[Ahlanna]

If there was one thing Ada was used to, it was drawing the eyes of strange men. A little surge of annoyance fades into curiosity when one of the fellows actually stops ogling her to chitter into his collar. Hmm. That's different. Tilting her head slightly to the left, she starts to …

"Oh. Heya. Yeah, I do." Turning her shoulder a bit to display the 12th​ Fleet 'Cerulean Spear' patch on her right arm, fingers move to tug down the little leather shield concealing a copy of the registration information for the pistol, complete with a scanner code. It's all on the up-and-up. Her tchun taps right next to the displayed code before moving out of the way.

If anything, the inspection causes Ada to relax a bit. They seem very professional – or possibly just very new – but Ada had trouble keeping her boots that shiny, she couldn't imagine what a whole suit of laminate would take.

"CO's got you on civvie-sheparding, huh? At least they gave you the good BlasTech kit." One hand flicks out to indicate the rifles. "Not janky Czerka crap."

Tchin swerving out to point at the comm guy in the morass, she inquires, lowering her voice a bit, "Are those guys with you? If not, they look like they're plotting trouble."

As for Monisa, Ada wasn't the type to just go and start chatting with strangers. With non-military strangers, anyhow. But at least she probably didn't have to worry about the other woman checking out her ass.

 

[Tenshi]

Ami Shatterstar

Ami still hadn't noticed the men looking at her, but she did hear the soldiers one level bellow. Curiously, the redhead walked to the edge of the catwalk and rested her hands on the arm rail. It occurred to her that anyone looking up from above would get even more of a look at her bosom, which made her blush a little bit. If she were back home, the grandmothers would reign in her exhibitionist tendencies, but freed from their influence, she was able to show off a little...

Okay, maybe a little bit too much, but embarrassing herself was half the fun! Are those guys with you? What did that refer too? Ami leaned back and looked around.

 

[kckolbe]

Maj knew she was right, that they had been in this situation before, and more than once. If anything, it was becoming the standard. "A song needn't be unfamiliar to be unwelcome," he began with mild irritation. "If anything, one is more likely to show distaste for a tune too often experienced."

He glanced over to her with a begrudgingly playful grin. "My 'profession' has evolved since acquiring a new partner" he jabbed back. He'd been making plenty of credits prior to meeting Zorah, with quite a bit more saved away in various accounts, more than enough to live comfortably. Meeting the diminuitive Force-user had changed much of his life. He often wondered how she'd managed it. Attractive women had a tendency to persuade men toward foolish pursuits, but with her additional talents, he had to wonder. However, he had been bored with conventional commerce.

Maj nodded a thank you to Gundark for the drinks before looking over to the Chadra-Fan, a stranger. Was he the broker, or had he overheard something and was trying to indicate it non-threateningly? He didn't wonder for long, though, as he then saw the back room. This was bad. He didn't particularly care about an Imperial being wounded, but he did care about being around when that was reacted to.

He glanced over to Zorah, indicating the seemingly injured woman coming out of the back room, his eyebrows raised in concern.

 

[Penny]

<<No parts,>> Litki said. <<I'm not a trader, I'm a worker!>>

There was a whiff of a scent like rotten eggs, but Litki pushed the frustration down, trying to focus. You're good enough to work here, she thought. You just have to prove it.

<<I'll replace your mechanic,>> she said, speaking as if whatever she said was not an assertion but an objective fact. <<I'm better than whoever you have right now. Look!>>

She turned to the droid, her practiced eyes looking over its patch job.

Dice rolls

Mechanics roll to appraise the patch job on the droid: 15
REROLL: Mechanics roll to appraise the patch job on the droid: 19

<<Your droid's leg isn't working. It's probably not a bad connection, because anyone can fix that. The whole leg is probably shot. I can rewire the whole thing so it works again. Also, its head movement is stiff because the torso is a different model. I can make it smoother. It will look like a better product, you can charge more money.>>

Now she was nervous, the scent of petrichor oozing out of her. She couldn't concentrate; everything she identified was surface level criticism, perhaps not layman-level, but not extraordinary, either. She doubted it would be enough to convince the owner to replace their current mechanic. She was blowing her last chance.

 

[Silverbird]

@Penny

The shopkeeper’s nose wrinkled as the scent of rotten eggs reached him, and his lekku twitched in disgust, but he gestured for his protocol droid to translate all the same. The droid glanced from the Twi’lek to Litki, then gave a small shake of its head before doing so.

“The Jawa insists that they are a worker, not a trader, and further that they are more skilled than your current mechanic, whom they intend to replace.” The shopkeeper frowned at that, his lekku quivering, while the droid sounded vaguely amused. “As evidence, they have noted several flaws in my own refurbishment which they could correct. My legs, obviously, do not function. My head and torso have been fitted together from different models, and as such…”

“Alright, alright, I get it!” The Twi’lek abruptly cut in, motioning for the droid to shut up while he threw a quick, furtive glance over the rest of his store. The place was deserted apart from the two of them, but the Twi’lek dropped his voice to an angry semi-whisper anyway as he rounded back on Litki.

“You trying to chase away my customers, Jawa? I’m the mechanic here.” He jabbed one thumb back towards himself to emphasize the point. “The droid works just fine; I don't need you hanging around and badmouthing my repairs. There’s no job for you here, understand?”

Drawing back again, he gestured towards the exit, clearly out of patience with the Jawa. “Now beat it, before I call security.”

—

@Ahlanna @Tenshi

One of the stormtroopers seemed to visibly relax as Ada’s military patch came into view, the weight of his shoulders and the way he carried himself shifting just a little as he recognised a fellow soldier. He even chuckled as Ada complained about Czerka gear, the sound strangely garbled through their helmet’s rebreather.

“Well, you know how it is. We -” he started to say, before a glance from his more officious companion — who was scanning Ada’s weapon — caused him to shut up. Instead, he settled for giving her a respectful nod.

That second trooper likewise seemed unimpressed by her warning. “That’s none of your business,” he replied, before his friendlier partner could say anything. The other trooper hesitated for a moment, before adding, “Nothing for you to worry about.”

Following that the stormtroopers fell silent for a moment, until their scanner let out a small beep. The officious trooper glanced down at the display, then stepped back out of Ada’s way. “This all checks out. Just keep it stowed while you’re on the Promenade.” He waved for her to continue on her path. “Move along.”

“Stay out of trouble,” his partner added.

Up above, Ami — alerted that there was something to see by the conversation below — had spotted the two men watching her. They were having a quick, whispered discussion, and it clearly involved her; they kept gesturing and glancing in her direction, and she was pretty sure one of them had made eye contact as she noticed them. Before she could decide what to do with that information, though, one of them broke away from the other and began to approach her.

“Ho, there!” He gave a friendly wave and a smile as he closed the distance between them, his other hand firmly in his jacket’s pocket. Something about his smile felt insincere to the young woman. “You’re an offworlder, right? What brings you to Sel Zonn Station?”

 

[Anla'Shok]

Monisa finally moved and allowed herself to take a breath as the situation with the Twilek and the stormtroopers did not end in a shoot out. she started to look around the establishment to find the broker she was told about.

 

[Ahlanna]

Ada was unbothered by the other fellow's brusque response. Inspection duty sucked, and people were always giving you a hard time for just doing your damn job. More than one pilot had bitched at her queries as to their business at a checkpoint. Everyone thought they were too important for following procedure. Ada wasn't exactly a fan of the stuff herself. But orders were orders, not the fault of the poor schlub having to carry them out.

"Right-o. Moving along." She dips her head respectfully to the pair and then heads about her business. Of course, the second trooper's officiousness made clear that the roving comm-guys were in fact sanctioned. Had he given off vibes of laziness, that would have been one thing. 'Not *my* problem' … that wouldn't have broadcast anything. But 'None of your business' … after going out of his way to be diligent about screening?

Well, fair enough. She certainly wasn't going to antagonize the fellow about it. Taking a half step to the side, she swings about to resume her stride in the direction of the cantina. Or rather what she hoped was the direction of the cantina – she didn't really know for sure. Probably should have asked the troopers, but the shifty people had distracted her attention. Too late now. Well, not really, but Ada was hardly going to stop and turn back once she had started to … hey!

The twi'lek's sudden movement and shift in direction brought her dangerously close to another woman, moving briskly past, as if trying to clear the area while the troopers were busy elsewhere. Not that Ada processes this. She had a vague recollection of the woman's gait being slower, but she wasn't really paying attention to Monisa. At least, she hadn't been, but now there was little choice if avoiding a collision was in the colors.

Instinct and reflex take over. Anyone with any piloting experience at all knew that you didn't slam your vessel into someone else's. Light on her feet, Ada pivots and swirls to the side, brushing past the woman by the barest of safe margins.

Mumbling something that sounds suspiciously like "Sorry 'bout that." She takes a few more steps as if intending to inspect the wares of the nearest merchant stand. Like her little move had been completely planned.

Wait … is that? Golden eyes blink. A Senators and Socialites collectible card display? With Senator Binks? He'd make the perfect Idiot card for a game of Senatorial Sabacc! What a stroke of luck! Then again, as any good twi'lek knows, the best stuff tended to happen when you just go with the flow.

"Hey! How much for the Naboo Senator?" Indicating the display with her tchun,she calls out to the shopkeep.

 

[Penny]

<<Wait, no!>> Litki backed up, her hands rising defensively and the petrichor scent intensifying. Being picked up by security was the only thing worse than walking out of here with no income. Her ion pistol, hidden under her robes but surely detectable with a thorough search, was unlicensed - probably unlicensable. If she were a human, she'd find herself in the closest cell; as it was, it'd more likely be an airlock.

<<I'll raise your efficiency!>> she implored the owner, still backing up. <<I'll do repairs and salvage scrap while you make purchases and sales and all the other things! We'll both do what we're best at!>>

In Litki's tight-knit, highly communal clan on Tattooine, role specialization was only natural. Everyone still learned every job in case of emergencies, but they could only thrive in the harsh conditions when everyone focused on their strengths and relied on each other to support their weaknesses.

<<We'll make your shop better together!>> Litki said. By now, she had retreated nearly to the entrance, ready to run if the owner really did call security. <<Do we have a deal?>>

 

[Yellow Brick Road]

Zorah was careful to guard her tongue around the Gundark. She didn't want to upset their host, after all. Most of the time, he was gracious enough. The young Jedi followed Maj's eyes as she let the drink settle before her. The Chadra-Fan seemed eager to meet them, but that wasn't what Maj was trying to get her to see. What the noble-turned-ne'er-do-well wanted her to spot was the Imperial body and the woman who was making her escape.

It only took a second for Zorah's eyes to shut. She'd be taught to rely on the Force in moments like this. Maj could handle their contact. He was quite capable, and the Chadra-Fan seemed amenable enough. The woman seemed injured, and she might be a potential ally. If Zorah could slip out of the cantina, she could easily catch up to the woman. If she got involved, it could compromise their operation here on the station. She allowed her mind to flow with the current of the Force, searching her feelings for the answers she sought. If it was the path to take, the Force would guide her down it. If it was not, she'd simply pretend she never saw a thing and join their newly found friend at the bar. "Things might be getting, interesting, Maj."

 

[Silverbird]

@Yellow Brick Road

As Zorah's thoughts turned inward, she felt two things with stunning clarity — a rare thing, even for those attuned to the Force's will. The first was a sense of clear and immediate danger; if she followed this woman, Zorah was certain that she would be placing herself in harm's way. The second feeling, however, seemed to draw her towards the woman regardless. It felt akin to stepping into a river and feeling the current against your feet; a gentle, yet insistent pull in the direction of the river's flow.

Despite the danger, Zorah's instincts seemed to be urging her to follow the stranger.

 

[Tenshi]

Ami frowned. There was something unnerving about all this. in the middle of a regime shift--and with rumors of Force users being targeted--unnerving was the last thing she wanted.

Schooling pink lips into a cheerful smile, Ami replied, "Just passing throuhg, gentlemen. Is there something I can help you with? Let me guess, you're selling that energy drink they're advertising in the dock?"

 

[Anla'Shok]

Monisa was starled by the sudden movements of the Twilek as she was so focused on searching for her quarry "OH sorry I should have been paying closer attention to my surroundings." She gave the twilek a slight bow and stood still for a moment to get her bearings and find what she was looking for.

 

[Ahlanna]

No sooner has Ada made her inquiry to the merchant, when she started getting a sense of something wrong. You know that little tingle in the lekku. She had just cut someone off, and there was no cursing, no complaining, no shouts of 'asshole' … not even a huff of displeasure. Just a murmured apology. That was just not an appropriate way of handling the situation.

Wheeling about, her golden eyes seek out the stranger. "What?" she demands, in brusque soldierly fashion, "Is something wrong?"

Letting the question dangle in the air, she waits until Monisa is just about to say something, and then rudely talks over her. She's actually trying to help, but social skills are not Ada's strong point. And it's so damn hard to figure out when other people want to talk, so Ada usually just doesn't bother trying. "You wanna get chewed up and spat out? You can't let people do that to you and not at least flip them off or something!"

Shaking her head from side to side, the twi'lek adds, "Chancellor's balls, girl, are you going to let people literally walk all over you?"

 

[Anla'Shok]

Monisa turned to the Twilek and looked confused for a moment " Why would I do that and draw attention to myself like that? Besides I was not exactly paying attention to where I was going so it was only right to apologize. It's not like I am a big shot or a soldier or anything so I think acting like that might get me in over my head." She scratched her head a bit " Thank you for the advice, My name is Monisa and yours?"

 

[Ahlanna]

Wait, what? What's with this polite crap?

Was the other woman trying to get one over on Ada? Her head shifts slightly from side to side, trying to get a hint as if people might be sneaking up on her.

"I'm Sergean … I mean Ada'koyi." Rylothian names, of course, include both given and clan name in the single word. "Just arrived here." Of course, the other woman probably already knew that since they both came in from the docking port.

This Monisa person seemed a bit on the scrawny side. And the same could be said for her pea-shooter. Still, at least the woman had the good sense to arm up in public. So many didn't. "Is that a DDC? Galven ring, extended cooling coil sleeve?" Of course, the Drearian Defense Conglomerate's Defender sporting blaster pistol was really designed to look innocuous. "You planning on sniping someone?" The twi'lek's eyes twinkle as she offers the absurd suggestion. Unless this woman was a fantastic actress, the most trouble she was likely to get in was a tussle over peer-review. Research types took that shit seriously.

 

[Anla'Shok]

" Pleasure to Meet you Ada' koyi Well I carried it for self defense and I have used it in a pinch for hunting small game or chasing off a scavenger animal in my time. Not really planning on sniping anyone. Its has served me well in the wilds, when work has called for it. Studying plant life is not as safe as you would think. I don't really remember the name of the brand for this weapon honestly" The red head smiled and met the twilek's eyes with her hazel eyes. " Is this your first trip to this station?"

 

[Yellow Brick Road]

Zorah's eyes popped open as a smile spread across her face, bemused, but intrigued. "Sorry, Maj. Looks like you're handling this one alone. Do us both a favor and try not to get blasted." With her witty jab delivered, she turned and slipped away, gracefully weaving between drunken patrons as they enjoyed their after-shift drinks. She could feel the Force tugging at her, pulling her toward the woman who by now was making a break for it, to be sure. The door to cantina slid open, sending a short rush of air blowing past the young Jedi.

Once outside, Zorah scanned the promenade for the woman. If she were injured, there might a trail of blood. Even if she hadn't been wounded, Zorah had spent enough time training at the Jedi Temple on Coruscant to know that when the Force guides you down a path it did so thoroughly. One might not always know where to look, but if you looked long enough, you would find the way ahead. As she pulled her hood up over her dark hair, she couldn't shake the certainty that danger was just around the corner. "I've got a bad feeling about this..."