Jul 26, 2021 5:53 am
Galactic Chronological Time: 2 months prior to the Battle of Yavin
General Location: Imperial Occupied Equator City, Rodia
Specific Location: Grand Canopy Hotel, Parking Level Under Repair
Time: 8 pm, IST
Narrator: Doban Brant and the others assembled in the "out of order" parking section beneath the Grand Canopy Hotel watched the area get darker and darker as Rodia’s sun set behind the many buildings. In the ever darkening duracrete open parking passage, Brant mumbled about the urban decay he was taking in: the disposable eating utensils, paper debris and all discarded used death stick stubs that littered the ground around him, all of which had blown in from above over the last few months.
"Look at all the junk! We may not be able to use this place next time. Junk like this means rodents. Watch your pants legs everyone."
The older Devaronian would be glad to be moving on soon, and he didn’t know if it was his desire for travel or if being in places that rarely saw the cleansing light of day was getting to him. He paced a bit, before he looked over at the others. All of them were either younger in years or in spirit.
He wondered whether the Wookiee Roooargh had seen such filth on Kashyyyk. Brant figured probably not based on how Shaam had described the world; forests, jungles, and free of the claustrophobic feel of the buildings here. If there was a place the Devaronian could stay at for a moment, it would be in a place his old acquaintance had described.
The humans, Pharo and Coeburn looked as if they’d blasted their ways in and out of some seedy dives. They both had a hardened look about them, and didn’t seem to care about the junk and dirty surroundings, or rodents. They appeared focused on who would be arriving shortly.
Kezza, the Falleen, was a complete mystery. What was Kezza thinking? Was Kezza bothered by their financier not being here shortly before 8 and having to wait? Was Kezza bothered by the litter and crud on the ground? Brant didn’t have the slightest idea how the Falleen felt and he was decent at reading people.
Shortly after 8 pm, a speeder car arrived and hovered at the area of the steps leading down to where Brant and the others were. Those gathered could see the repulsor sensor lights along the running board but nothing more. A door closed and soon they heard footsteps as the speeder car lifted off and left. A human male in a suit with a luggage bag walked into view from the stepped passageway. He had a medium brown naval regulation haircut, which supported a pair of sunglasses. He had a very ordinary appearance. Average height. Average weight. He could have been anywhere from 25 to 40 years in age.
Doban appeared to relax a bit as the man came into view, but his hand was still kept at the lapel of his jacket ready to draw his large caliber slugthrower if need be. "All right, this is our guy, Dolan Varn of the ISB." He then turned to Varn, skipped any greetings, and said, "What were you saying about serious money? Inquiring minds want to know?"
Varn took the whole group in as his eyes adjusted better to the light. He showed little emotion to the question, but appeared tense.
"Using your usual merc math, the splits should be a 1,000 credits per participant upfront, and another 4,000 credits per participant after mission completion. There may even be a bonus opportunity: salvage."
Brant nodded and smiled. Not bad. Didn’t sound like a waste of time based on the payout, but it definitely sounded dangerous. Salvage usually meant danger. From deserted ships in space to looting those who no longer needed what they were holding onto for the next life.
"You’re seriously going on this one?"
Varn stiffened a bit at the question.
"It’s non-negotiable. Is it safe to talk here?"
Brant chuckled. Nowhere was really safe, but no one of consequence was around or listening where they were all at.
"I think so. No electronic devices found here. The only bugs down here are stingflies and roaches. Society forgot this place even exists. Would you like some refreshments? I’m reasonably sure there’s a half consumed beverage of your choice laying around on the deck within reach."
The ISB agent sighed and looked back towards the passage way he came through moments earlier. After waiting for a few seconds, he turned back and responded in a hushed tone above a whisper.
"Brant…I need you to take what I have to say seriously. There’s a regenerative medicine research facility in wild space that was shut down by the Navy approximately four years ago. Something horrible happened there. I just got done interviewing the last surviving scientist who worked out there. He was so terrified by what happened on Vulgas III that it altered his brain chemistry. I think this is a Naval cover up, and I need independent contractors to help me sort through what happened when we get there. There's more to this, but I'd feel safer discussing it in a sound proof area."
OOCC: Esidrix, as soon as I get a character sheet, I will fit you in, but it's going to have to be pretty soon. The player characters are in a major space port, and it may be some time before they're back in a place where you'd be able to meet up with them with where they're going. It's not too late, but time is running out.
General Location: Imperial Occupied Equator City, Rodia
Specific Location: Grand Canopy Hotel, Parking Level Under Repair
Time: 8 pm, IST
Narrator: Doban Brant and the others assembled in the "out of order" parking section beneath the Grand Canopy Hotel watched the area get darker and darker as Rodia’s sun set behind the many buildings. In the ever darkening duracrete open parking passage, Brant mumbled about the urban decay he was taking in: the disposable eating utensils, paper debris and all discarded used death stick stubs that littered the ground around him, all of which had blown in from above over the last few months.
"Look at all the junk! We may not be able to use this place next time. Junk like this means rodents. Watch your pants legs everyone."
The older Devaronian would be glad to be moving on soon, and he didn’t know if it was his desire for travel or if being in places that rarely saw the cleansing light of day was getting to him. He paced a bit, before he looked over at the others. All of them were either younger in years or in spirit.
He wondered whether the Wookiee Roooargh had seen such filth on Kashyyyk. Brant figured probably not based on how Shaam had described the world; forests, jungles, and free of the claustrophobic feel of the buildings here. If there was a place the Devaronian could stay at for a moment, it would be in a place his old acquaintance had described.
The humans, Pharo and Coeburn looked as if they’d blasted their ways in and out of some seedy dives. They both had a hardened look about them, and didn’t seem to care about the junk and dirty surroundings, or rodents. They appeared focused on who would be arriving shortly.
Kezza, the Falleen, was a complete mystery. What was Kezza thinking? Was Kezza bothered by their financier not being here shortly before 8 and having to wait? Was Kezza bothered by the litter and crud on the ground? Brant didn’t have the slightest idea how the Falleen felt and he was decent at reading people.
Shortly after 8 pm, a speeder car arrived and hovered at the area of the steps leading down to where Brant and the others were. Those gathered could see the repulsor sensor lights along the running board but nothing more. A door closed and soon they heard footsteps as the speeder car lifted off and left. A human male in a suit with a luggage bag walked into view from the stepped passageway. He had a medium brown naval regulation haircut, which supported a pair of sunglasses. He had a very ordinary appearance. Average height. Average weight. He could have been anywhere from 25 to 40 years in age.
Doban appeared to relax a bit as the man came into view, but his hand was still kept at the lapel of his jacket ready to draw his large caliber slugthrower if need be. "All right, this is our guy, Dolan Varn of the ISB." He then turned to Varn, skipped any greetings, and said, "What were you saying about serious money? Inquiring minds want to know?"
Varn took the whole group in as his eyes adjusted better to the light. He showed little emotion to the question, but appeared tense.
"Using your usual merc math, the splits should be a 1,000 credits per participant upfront, and another 4,000 credits per participant after mission completion. There may even be a bonus opportunity: salvage."
Brant nodded and smiled. Not bad. Didn’t sound like a waste of time based on the payout, but it definitely sounded dangerous. Salvage usually meant danger. From deserted ships in space to looting those who no longer needed what they were holding onto for the next life.
"You’re seriously going on this one?"
Varn stiffened a bit at the question.
"It’s non-negotiable. Is it safe to talk here?"
Brant chuckled. Nowhere was really safe, but no one of consequence was around or listening where they were all at.
"I think so. No electronic devices found here. The only bugs down here are stingflies and roaches. Society forgot this place even exists. Would you like some refreshments? I’m reasonably sure there’s a half consumed beverage of your choice laying around on the deck within reach."
The ISB agent sighed and looked back towards the passage way he came through moments earlier. After waiting for a few seconds, he turned back and responded in a hushed tone above a whisper.
"Brant…I need you to take what I have to say seriously. There’s a regenerative medicine research facility in wild space that was shut down by the Navy approximately four years ago. Something horrible happened there. I just got done interviewing the last surviving scientist who worked out there. He was so terrified by what happened on Vulgas III that it altered his brain chemistry. I think this is a Naval cover up, and I need independent contractors to help me sort through what happened when we get there. There's more to this, but I'd feel safer discussing it in a sound proof area."
OOCC: Esidrix, as soon as I get a character sheet, I will fit you in, but it's going to have to be pretty soon. The player characters are in a major space port, and it may be some time before they're back in a place where you'd be able to meet up with them with where they're going. It's not too late, but time is running out.