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

"Was this one part of them?"
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<<Part of the stormtroopers?>> Litki asked incredulously. With her shoulder blazing in pain and the threat of death gripping her like a tangled robe, this seemed so absurd that she felt irrationally angry. As if the stormroopers would ever even want a Jawa among them. <<They shot me!>>

With her frustration satisfied, her anger faded and was quickly replaced by fear again. At least the Jedi and the others didn't seem like they wanted to kill her straight out. It was a desperate hope, but she clung to it, and felt words tumbling almost uncontrollably out of her mouth, struggling to make real arguments in a language designed just to hash out trade deals.

<<The stormtroopers aren't my friend. I shut off the lights so I could - so we could all escape. If you let me go, they'll have to find me too! I'll distract them! I won't tell anyone what I saw! They wouldn't listen anyway! They probably can't even...understand me...>>

She was wasting her time, she knew. These people probably couldn't even speak Jawa Trade, and even if they could, why would they care what she said? Talk is cheap. Either they would kill her or they would decide she's not worth the effort, but there was absolutely nothing Litki could do the affect their decision.
 
There was, at least, one small break in Litki's otherwise overwhelming bleak fortune of late: the stormtrooper up on the catwalk did indeed have her credit chip, tucked away in his belt pouch beside another which was, presumably, his own. Apart from that, the injured Jawa could see that the trooper had been carrying a portable medpac, with a roll of bandages and some kind of stimulant in a small auto-injector.

Of course, her luck wasn't going to completely turn around that easily. Further down the catwalk, she — along with Ami and Maj — could see three thin beams of light sweeping the area as they approached. It wasn't hard to guess what that meant: more troopers were on their way. The Promenade was long enough that it'd take them another minute to get there, but whatever decision the group was coming to, they'd need to reach it fast.
 
Zorah took the jab in stride. She'd heard the Jedi be dragged through the mud on more than one occasion. It was hardly the first time someone implied that the Jedi way didn't involve violence. Those who never learned to feel the Force were often blind to Its will. "I do not expect you to understand my actions. If I hadn't struck the first trooper down, however, you would have been one of the first caught in his auto fire." She tied her robe closed, concealing her blistered wound. Wounded and in a bad spot, the Corellian wasn't exactly overjoyed to be judged openly by the stranger.

The Jedi allowed Maj and the Jawa to sort out the issue of alliance, while she turned to inspect their "companion". She was dressed as a soldier, though her gear implied she wasn't currently in service to anyone. A mercenary, then. One with strong inclinations toward the Empire, from the way she spoke and reacted. Her figure beneath the armor put Zorah's to shame, but that was hardly a surprise. Her species had long been exploited by humans and other aliens for their exotic beauty. The Twi'lek were unfortunate enough to look appealing to humans, and also look clearly non-human. So, either they became soldiers and fought wars for others, or they became dancers and slaves, which had its own form of Hell to pay. Zorah had seen their plight of Ryloth back when she was still actively fighting the Separatists. What she wouldn't give to be fighting droids now, instead of this mess.

A sigh escaped her lips as she slid her blade into its sleeve, a pang of sadness filling her heart. "Thank you for protecting her." She motioned toward the wounded woman that the scientist now attended near them. "Those troopers may have just been doing their jobs, but that job would have snuffed out the lives of anyone they found inconvenient to them in the process. Who and what we serve matters just as much as how we do it, and I'm not sure these men cared much about either. Otherwise, I wouldn't have had to stop them from firing into a crowded street to kill an already gravely injured woman." She looked the soldier over again, impressed and intrigued by such an outspoken Twi'lek.
 
Hmf.

Ada sure didn't remember any of the Jedi she had worked with at Saleucami being so casual with violence – maybe General Skywalker was a bit on the reckless side, but he wasn't any older than Ada herself. And she hadn't really dealt with him much. Mostly Generals Gallia and Koth.

Ever heard of stun setting? Even Ada wasn't so crass as to point that out, though her tchin and tchun twine for a moment, betraying her dismay at the needlessly lost lives.

Still, it wouldn't help the injured woman to pick a fight here, so instead she shifts to information gathering. "So what's your beef with station security anyhow? You some kinda strike team? Gotta admit, I didn't see her coming." Her head tilts a little in Monisa's direction, the tip of her tchun twisting an inch to the side to help point the girl out, just over her 12th Fleet 'Cerulean Spear' patch, with its titular weapon laying on a slightly elevated diagonal, separating a Victory-class above from the three worlds of the Chancellor's 'Triad of Evil': Mygeeto, Saleucami and Felucia, below. A recent design, then, as the 'Triad' speech was only seven or eight months before ... but then again, it also has a Republic sigil.

However, Ada was not one to stand around being all social. So while this conversating is in progress, she helps the stranger walk off the Promenade towards the lifts.
 
Leanna_decker.jpg Ami Shatterstar

The redhead retrieved her survival knife and tucked it back itno her boot. She pulled a glow rod out of her belt. Then she said to the jawa, "Hey, look, I'm sorry. I don't speak your language, I just know we've got to get you to a doctor, okay?"

Ami lunged fast, scooped up the small cloaked figure and threw her over her shoulder. The redhead then ran as fast as she dared, only turning on the glow rod when she had no other choice. "I'll apologies again when we find a protocol droid."

Running down the stairs, she moved back to the jedi and the group she'd gotten together with. "Hey," she said quietly. "I'm Ami. Did i hear you say you were taking her to a doctor? This person got shot. I need to take them there too. May I please tag along?"
 
“Nothing like that, I don’t think. They aren’t with me,” The wounded woman spoke up weakly, shaking her head in answer to Ada’s question. “Just…well-meaning strangers in the right place at the right time. Like you. Luck… or the will of the Force, maybe.”

For a moment her eyes lingered on Zorah, though in the dark her expression was impossible to read. The group soon reached the turbolifts at the end of the Promenade, just as Ami — with Litki slung over her shoulder — caught up with them. The wounded woman acknowledged the pair with a short nod, and a moment later the lift doors slid open, allowing them all to pile in.

Once they were all inside, and the lift was underway, the wounded woman spoke up again. “Thank you. All of you.” There was gratitude in her voice, and a measure of shame — though above all else, she sounded exhausted. In the better light of the turbolift compartment, the others could see the sweat lining her brow. “If you hadn’t stepped in… thing being what they are these days… I almost would have been lucky to just be shot.” Monisa felt the woman grip her arm tighter for a moment as her voice wavered. “I’m… sorry that you’re all involved, now.”

She fell silent for a moment, looking down as the turbolift hummed around them.

“I wasn’t lying when I said I have credits. My name is Maya; I work for Senator Bail Organa, of Alderaan. I was sent here to pick up some cargo, but, well…” She took a deep breath before continuing. “My contact was an officer in Imperial Customs. He said someone higher up has decided that the senator is a troublemaker; said they wanted me brought in for questioning.” She shook her head softly. “Then he tried to extort more credits out of me.”

The turbo lift came to a gentle stop, and the doors swooshed open. The corridor outside, thankfully, looked deserted.
 
Monisa Took a deep breath as she was caught of guard by the sudden grasp of her arm by the Injured Maya. Her unoccupied by left arm twitched a bit not out of pain but from the almost shell shocked look of a rookie soldier in her first real battle against trained soldiers. Her eyes were wide and anyone who has served in an army could likely pick up on whatever decisions she might have made were pure instinct and lacked any form of actual Military discipline. " Well um I would consider helping you but I should be forthright and explain why I was on the promenade in the first place to all of you. Of course after Maya and anyone else injured is taken care off." She hung her head low trying to hide her worry expression that due to her lack of experience they might not take her on cause she is a liability.
 
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Making the most of the seconds she had, Litki gathered up her credit chip and medpac. If by some chance she survived this, she would need the latter. She left the stormtrooper's credit chip where it was; while she needed money, she didn't have the skills to crack it, and given her luck lately, carrying it around would only cause more trouble.

Litki was glancing over at the approaching lights when she heard one of the Jedi say something to her. Litki was just turning her head to look at her when the Jedi lunged forward and yanked her up onto her shoulder in a smooth, powerful motion. "Wuaaahh!" Litki howled in pain, then clamped a hand over her mouth. The Jedi could have killed her easily - and silently - but was carrying her away instead. Maybe they weren't planning to eliminate her after all...but they might reconsider that if she made enough noise to draw people to them.

Her injured shoulder still burned in pain, and been jostled around in someone else's grip wasn't helping, but by the time the group piled into the elevator, Litki had enough control of the pain to take her hand off her mouth. She figured it would have been safer to go a different direction than these people, but for better or worse, she was with them now. She hung silently on the Jedi's shoulder, her scent of petrichor and chlorine slowly filling the turbolift, and listened. Credits? She liked credits. All involved now. There's no denying that, not now. Maybe she could slip away if they got to another station or another planet, but for the time being, she'll have to stick to these people. She'd wait until a good opportunity - maybe after the first payday, if things weren't get too hot - and then slip away.

She couldn't help but be distracted by the form of the Jedi carrying her. Humans smelled "dumb", for lack of a better word - they didn't express themselves by scent the way Jawas did - but that didn't mean they smelled bad. Litki's position on her shoulder also put her face almost directly in front of the woman's breasts, which were surprisingly large, now that Litki got a good look at them. The Jedi's scant clothing really made it obvious how different their bodies were from Jawas.
 
As the group hurried through the station’s corridors, Maya acknowledged Monisa’s words with a weak nod. The Alderanian didn’t seem too concerned by Monisa’s obvious shock or lack of experience with this sort of thing, but that might just have been because she was pretty out of it herself at this stage. “Thank you,” she repeated, between heavy breaths. “I’d… like to hear that story, when we’re safe.”

The group rounded a corner, and their destination — Delgas Medical — came into sight, marked by a dusty Auebesh sign protruding from the station wall. It only took them a few moments to cross the remaining distance to the entrance, and once they stepped inside they found themselves in a sterile room that better resembled a some kind of bureaucratic outpost than it did a doctor’s waiting room. There were a few uncomfortable-looking steel chairs against the wall, and other than that, there were no real amenities; even the floor was just the same uncovered steel as the corridor outside. A reception window was set into one wall, behind which sat a bobble-headed droid that lit up in surprise at the group’s appearance.

“Oh my!” The droid’s head swiveled around, and receded from view as it suddenly retreated deeper into the facility. Through the glass, the group could hear it calling out to someone in alarm. “Doctor! Doctor, we have multiple wounded guests in the front room!”

Maya carefully removed her arm from around Monisa’s shoulders, and eased herself into one of the seats. She took a moment to catch her breath, and then reached from something in her pocket.

“The senator’s cargo… I can’t tell you what it is, but I promise you that if it gets to Alderaan, it’ll save lives. My contact was supposed to secure it for me, but… well, we’ll have to go another route. There’s one other person who’ll know how to find it. A droid, Switch — he hides out in storage bay V14.” The Alderanian woman produced a commlink from her pocket, which she held out to the group at large, a desperate look on her face. “I know I’m asking a lot, but… please. If you can secure the cargo, I can arrange transport for all of you off this station.”
 
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Transport? Litki glanced up at the injured woman and, suddenly, there was a whiff of vanilla in the air. This all sounded like something Litki would be better off not involving herself in, but it was too late to worry about that now. At this point, her first priority was to get off the station. Once she'd done that, she could worry about everything else, including her injury.

Litki reached out for the commlink, but then faltered, her hand hovering in mid-air for a moment before dropping limp. For one thing, she was still slung over the scarcely-dressed woman's shoulder like a bag of vegetables, and couldn't get within arm's length of the commlink if she tried. For another thing, she didn't know if the commlink would even be useful to her. It all came down to whether Switch - or whoever was on the other end of the commlink - would be able to understand her.

"Utinni!" Litki says with a wave of her hand, trying to get the desperate woman's attention. She points at her own face, hidden though it may be under her robe. "Jawa."

She enunciates slowly and clearly. This word, at least, the human could recognize. She holds out a hand, fingers straight and together and thumb apart, and opens and closes it, miming an opening and closing mouth. "Jawa?" she asks, then points at the commlink.
 
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Ami Shatterstar

The redhead took Litki in her arms now "This person has a blaster burn on their back, and the other isn't doing well either. Please, where can i put them down?"

Once she had Litki on a bed, she ran back and got Litki's com link. "Jawa," She asked, "Is that your name?" She handed Litki the com. "My name's Ami."
 
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"Ah!" Litki gasped in pain as the redhead transferred her from her shoulder to her arms. It wasn't as painful as actually being shot, but it still hurt, and Litki didn't have the immediate threat of death to distract her this time. Once in the Jedi's arms, Litki just hung limply, not wanting to aggravate the wound. Besides, feebly wriggling in her grip wouldn't accomplish anything. She seemed to have her best interests at heart anyway, for whatever reason.

As soon as the woman had laid Litki on the bed and turned back to the rest of the group, the Jawa sat up, grunting softly against the pain of using her shoulder. By this time, she'd figured her injuries weren't fatal, and while treatment would certainly be good, getting off this station was far more important to her health. She couldn't afford to lie in bed convalescing. She was about to hop off the side when the Jedi returned, comlink in hand.

Did she get it from the other woman? Litki wondered. She was surprised the Jedi was apparently handing it off to her, but she took it anyway. If it got her to transport, she could ask questions later. Litki was about to speak into the comlink when the Jedi asked if Jawa was her name.

Litki stopped, looking up at the Jedi - Ami - with yellow eyes wide with surprise. After a moment, she shook her head. So much for that ancient Jedi wisdom. She looked up at Ami again and tapped a finger on her chest. "Litki."

She activates the comlink. <<Switch?>> she asks. <<Do you know Jawa Trade? Where's the senator's cargo?>>

She glances up at Ami again, then makes a motion with her free hand, like she's waving something from her mouth towards the comlink. "Jawa."
 
Confusion played across Maya’s face for a moment as Likti’s gestures got her attention. “Jawa?” She echoed. A moment later her eyes lit up as she realized what the Jawa was trying to communicate, and she shook her head. “Oh! Oh, no, I meant —”

But before she could explain what she’d meant, she was interrupted by the nearby door swooping open. An older human woman in a blue coat - presumably the facility’s doctor - stepped into the room, accompanied by the droid they’d seen at the reception desk. She took one quick look at the group, before gesturing back the way she’d came in answer to Ami’s questions.

“Beds are back that way,” she said, in a hurried, take-charge sort of tone. “MB, go with them.” The droid rolled forward to show Ami the way, and the doctor turned her attention to Maya with an exasperated shake of her head. “Ai, Maya, what’ve you done to yourself this time?”

“The usual,” Maya attempted a weak grin in response. Before stepping away with the doctor, she handed the comlink over to Monisa — who was able to pass it to Ami when the redhead returned a moment later looking for it. “If you’re able to find the cargo, please, contact me with that. I’ll arrange to get you out of here.”



The back half of Delgas Medical wasn’t much more welcoming than the front. It seemed to be less a hospital or doctor’s office and more a pharmaceutical refinement facility, filled mostly with chemical equipment and storage containers. Still, there was a small area set aside for treating injuries or other emergencies, which is where the medical droid led the group.

Maya’s comlink proved not to have anyone on the other side — a situation which Monisa was able to explain once she joined the others — but while Litki was making that discovery, the medical droid took the opportunity to look over her injuries. A moment later, the Jawa felt a sharp pain in her shoulder as the droid unceremoniously jabbed her with some kind of syringe.

“That should prevent infection,” it informed her. The droid’s head whirled around 180 degrees, and its body trundled over to fetch something from one of the many storage containers. “Please lie back down. You are making it more difficult to treat your injuries.”

OOC: The group has a moment to talk undisturbed amongst themselves; we’ll move on once you’ve decided where you’re headed next. MB is able to restore 10 HP to each of you that needs it while you talk, if you would like.
 
Monisa now conversing in Jawa trade language: "The redhead says her Name is Ami and I am Monisa, You should probably sit still and let the droid do its work" Monisa gave the Jawa a warm smile as she conversed.
 
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Litki glared at the silent commlink in irritation when she felt the syringe sink into her shoulder. "Waah!" she exclaimed in surprise and pain, shooting the droid a scowl before lying back down on her side, her injured shoulder up in the air. She took a deep breath and exhaled it slowly, trying to calm herself. She wasn't giving up and letting the droid keep her around for treatment, not yet, but what she was doing right now wasn't working. She needed to take a moment to recollect herself and figure out what she was going to do.

"The redhead says her name is Ami and I am Monisa, you should probably sit still and let the droid do its work."

With a jolt, Litki pushed herself up on her good shoulder. <<You know Jawa Trade!>> she exclaimed, then winced in pain. Suddenly, the chlorine smell she was steadily oozing was overwhelmed with a rush of vanilla and spice scent, though it faded quickly. Settling back down on her side, she held out the commlink towards Monisa. <<I understand Basic.>>

Litki relied on Jawa Trade Language to survive off of Tattooine, but she didn't care for it. Basic felt more narrow than her native Jawaese, since it didn't incorporate any scent-based communication, but it could still compensate for that by expressing depth in other ways, like a picture without colour. Jawa Trade Language, on the other hand, was an ugly, piecemeal, constructed language - and Litki had a high tolerance for ugly, piecemeal constructions. Its restriction to the narrow range of Jawa vocalizations limited its vocabulary and necessitated the use of complicated and inflexible grammatical structures. Jawa Trade Language was designed for one thing - trade deals - and it was difficult to communicate anything outside of that scope. Jawaese poetry was a rich and beautiful mix of sound and smell, Basic poetry was an exploration of the language's flexible grammar and expansive vocabulary, but there was no such thing as Jawa Trade Language poetry.

<<I'm Litki,>> Litki told Monisa. <<I can help you. I'm a mechanic, a good one. If you give me transport off the station, I'll help retrieve this cargo and maintain your ship. Deal?>>
 
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Litki glared at the silent commlink in irritation when she felt the syringe sink into her shoulder. "Waah!" she exclaimed in surprise and pain, shooting the droid a scowl before lying back down on her side, her injured shoulder up in the air. She took a deep breath and exhaled it slowly, trying to calm herself. She wasn't giving up and letting the droid keep her around for treatment, not yet, but what she was doing right now wasn't working. She needed to take a moment to recollect herself and figure out what she was going to do.



With a jolt, Litki pushed herself up on her good shoulder. <<You know Jawa Trade!>> she exclaimed, then winced in pain. Suddenly, the chlorine smell she was steadily oozing was overwhelmed with a rush of vanilla and spice scent, though it faded quickly. Settling back down on her side, she held out the commlink towards Monisa. <<I understand Basic.>>

Litki relied on Jawa Trade Language to survive off of Tattooine, but she didn't care for it. Basic felt more narrow than her native Jawaese, since it didn't incorporate any scent-based communication, but it could still compensate for that by expressing depth in other ways, like a picture without colour. Jawa Trade Language, on the other hand, was an ugly, piecemeal, constructed language - and Litki had a high tolerance for ugly, piecemeal constructions. Its restriction to the narrow range of Jawa vocalizations limited its vocabulary and necessitated the use of complicated and inflexible grammatical structures. Jawa Trade Language was designed for one thing - trade deals - and it was difficult to communicate anything outside of that scope. Jawaese poetry was a rich and beautiful mix of sound and smell, Basic poetry was an exploration of the language's flexible grammar and expansive vocabulary, but there was no such thing as Jawa Trade Language poetry.

<<I'm Litki,>> Litki told Monisa. <<I can help you. I'm a mechanic, a good one. If you give me transport off the station, I'll help retrieve this cargo and maintain your ship. Deal?>>
Speaking in basic " Nice to meet you Litki and good to know you understand basic" She turns to the rest gathered " Litki would like to let you all know that Litki can help and is a good Mechanic if you give transport off the station. Litki will help retrieve this cargo and maintain the ship and asks if that would be a deal between Litki and the ship owner."
 
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<<Wait! There's more!>>

They weren't jumping at the opportunity to take her. Under normal circumstances, Litki couldn't blame them - she was smelly, she couldn't communicate with most of them, and she had no one to vouch for her. The last part was particularly crippling; not only did Litki have no proof of her mechanical talents, but Jawa as a whole had a largely deserved reputation for thievery, though Likti herself had a policy of never stealing from crewmates. Now, most of them did not seem to speak Jawa Trade, so maybe they didn't know about that part, but that also meant they wouldn't know how absolutely ingenious Jawa could be at getting tech to work on minimal resources. She had to sweeten the deal...or poison the alternative.

<<If you don't have a ship, I can steal one.>> Probably, anyway. She'd never stolen a ship before, but she was confident she could figure it out. <<But you need to get off the station. The Empire wants you now. Especially you - the Jedi.>>

At that last part, she points at Ami. <<They won't stop searching for you. They will find you. You - we have to leave.>>
 
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Ami Shatterstar

"I don't really know what's going on here," the redhead explained. "I just saw a guy with firing a blaster into a crowd and tried to get him to stop. I'm not a Jedi but i don't think the storm troopers understand the difference. Probably don't care, either. I don't have a way off of this station and they'll probably be hunting for me. Do you?"
 
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Litki produced just a whiff of rotten eggs as Ami claimed not to be a Jedi. She'd used the Force, Litki had seen it.

But no one else had. For whatever reason, Ami was hiding her abilities. It showed she didn't trust Litki and the others, but after a brief moment of frustration, Litki accepted it. They didn't need to be friends. They didn't even need to stick together after they got off the station. But they all needed to get off of Sel Zonn, and Litki figured Ami knew that as well as anyone else, even if she wouldn't admit the reason why. And even if Ami didn't trust the rest of them, she'd carried Litki to medical treatment when she could have left her behind, so Litki figured they could work together long enough to escape.

Litki pointed at Maya. <<She said she would give us transport if we got her cargo.>> Of course, Litki couldn't be sure that Maya was telling the truth, but she didn't have much of a choice.
 
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