Chapter One - There Are Cracks In The Walls

Pharo stands there and watches the scenario unfold before him while ready to help if needed.

Varn sighed. "They can't see you. They can't see me. We can even tell them that our viewer isn't working right. Roooargh, Coeburn and the others working on something. Hang tight."
Varn watched in disbelief at Kezza's display. "What could possibly go wrong with feet off the deck around controls?"

Varn didn't know a whole lot about the Falleen species. Not many did. While it would be silly to assume that ALL members of a culture or race would behave a certain way, even though many of them shared similar perspectives and religious beliefs, he still wondered if putting feet up in a nonchalant casual way during times of stress or danger to fake one’s lack of concern or fear by appearing bored was a Falleen trait or specifically a Kezza thing.

"Any feet off the ground is too close for comfort with the drive levers and sublight controls. You weren’t hired to wreck the ship, so I’d start there, or go check on what’s happening in the engine room."

Narrator: The captain on the other end was waiting and the situation demanded immediate attention. Varn turned his attention away from Kezza and their feet and flipped the switch on the comms, but not the view screen.

"Captain, this is The Rising Blade. We’re still locking down the problems. It appears our sublight engine is acting up and our hyperdrive is, well, we can’t really look at it too much because of your handy work. We’re operating out of Rodia, a mining pick up from the Vergesso Asteroids, round trip. Are you saying we overshot? Must have been an ion storm."

"Perhaps. It would be best if you were to follow our escort to docking bay three aboard the Shocksnare. A team of technicians will be able to come aboard and help assess the situation, help with repairs, and get you out of Imperial restricted space. Who am I speaking with?"----------

Narrator: Back in the engine room, Rooargh and MRT-7 await further instructions. Someone was coming down the passageway. Coeburn came through the hatch. Before the merc could say anything, the droid started beeping away the phrase "Irps."

"Irps….Irps...Into suit kaboot. People need’em-for drive work. Droids don’t. Don’t wear, burn burn burn. Irps. I-R-P-S."

The merc and mechanic listened and watched as the little droid pointed over at several folded up suits with masks. Ionizing Radiation Protection Suits.

Narrator: The strange little droid's safety tip felt out of place considering the situation, but Coeburn figured that MRT-7 was programmed to remind everyone that no matter how critical a situation was, safety mattered. Working on a sublight drive involved messing around near the ship's reactor which meant ionizing radiation. It all made sense. Then the thought occurred to him:

Narrator: Engine cables that released depleted fluid into the exhaust and waste pan as well as those cables that introduced coolant into the drive system were often the source of problems in and around the drive.

It appeared the easiest way to cause problems with a drive that wouldn't require costly repairs to the drive itself and were to loosen and pull on the drive cables. It was just a quick fix by either replacing worn cables or tightening fair to decent cables. The cables appeared new, so they could take the untightening and a bit a streching around the coupling to bottleneck the drive, making the drive less efficient. It was something that would have to be fixed after this ordeal was over or the action could risk damaging the drive. Mennoe took action, loosening the cables and then giving them a pull. The drive readout screen showed that efficiency had dropped from 97% to 62%. The drive groaned and sputtered for a few seconds and then returned to almost normal. An hum that wasn't there before was detected coming from the sublight drive, and the readout screen indicated that the drive was fluctuating between 62 and 68%. With the drive malfunction, a light came on indicating possible radiation leak.

"A player may spend one Force Point in a round; all skills, attributes and special ability die codes are doubled for the rest of that round." -Page 84, 2nd Edition R&E Core Rules

Engine Room

Narrator: When the Wookiee asked what was happening to the engines, it shook MRT from his fixation on the suits and his wondering as to why no one was putting them on. The merc explained that this was in effort to make the ship appear damaged. He wanted to check to make sure it was repairable so badly, but it was looking at this point from what the merc explained it was an act that could be fixed easily. They were acting. He loved acting! This was like a real life holo!

"Oh oh, MRT gets it now. Fooled MRT at first. ----the droid broke out in song.

Hoses on drive, pulled not chopped.
Hoppin in space, hop hop hopped.
Faking a leak, without a doubt.
Gonna make the bad peeps freak freak-out!

The little droid continued to buzz and sing as the readout screen fluctuated between 62 and 68% efficiency. He seemed very pleased to have figured out what was going on and to be part of the group.

Cockpit

Narrator: The droid’s goofy song could be heard in the cockpit. Thank the maker they weren’t transmitting back to The Shocksnare for any part of it. If they ever got out of this, he’d be discussing security procedures with the droid, such as using a dank farrik secured comlink during hostilities. Kezza heard the song and it was enough for them to go on.
Varn watched in amazement. Kezza ignored the captain’s request on identifying oneself and gave little away as to what was happening aboard the ship. They seemed confused...dazed...perhaps even ill. Kezza spoke in a way that put the situation right back at the other side, either they’d be forced to ask for a lot more clarification or they’d draw their own conclusions with the acting. He looked back and forth between Kezza and the Imperial Naval Captain, and it wasn’t long before he could see it in the Captain’s eyes. The Captain was looking at doomed spacefarers.

"Radiation level 4 possible per scan, sir. Crew member appears affected."

Captain Grehn paused for a few moments after his sensor officer’s statement. The female crew member appeared confused with not knowing or remembering terms but instead described what she was looking at as opposed to what she was seeing. She described the radiation level sensor. He’d dealt with radiation sickness and reactor leaks in the past. It often involved giving more lives to save fewer lives, and that was from radiation alone. He wasn’t even factoring in explosions. Where does one go in space during a radioactive fire? He knew the answer: nowhere.

"Detachment Alpha, allow them to follow a course heading to the habitable planet and land. The third planet in the system. No need to intercept or follow."

Outside The Rising Blade, the TIEs circled the freighter and headed back to the cruiser.

An unseen command officer, either a squadron commander or medical officer asked for clarification from their captain.

"Should a containment unit be sent to assist? Radiation technicians and troopers are at your order sir."

"They’re not asking for it and...I don’t know what we could do...for them. Their vessel’s heading and entry into the system has been logged and we’ll continue to monitor their landing...and unlikely departure from a distance."

Grehn was a stern Navy man, but felt completely powerless to help the malfunctioning ship.

"I’m sorry Rising Blade. I can’t risk my crew and ship to help you. Good luck. Shocksnare out."

Narrator: The Shocksnare released its gravity projector hold and continued on it’s patrol as The Rising Blade jolted and sputtered towards its destination. Estimated time of arrival to Vulgas III was an hour.

Narrator: Varn noticed that Kezza had nothing to say as they left the cockpit. If they had stuck around, Varn would have offered to explain some of the ship’s systems a bit better as the Falleen appeared to be more than a little lost. Whether they were attending to something else or had gone off to sulk, he didn’t know. He had more important things to attend to. He switched the intercom on to engineering.

"Excellent job in there! Hold off on any adjustments until after we set down. We’re at the edge of the system still and definitely being watched. I’ll be in touch when we approach landing."

Varn continued to think about what the captain had said during "radiation leak theater". The Interdictor Cruiser’s presence alone in this area and not being part of a Star Destroyer group added to the suspicion that the Navy was trying to cover something up. The Shocksnare would continue to monitor them from long range. They were being logged. It may not be long before someone of consequence within Navy High Command saw that a freighter had entered restricted space and then traced the transponder back to Brant. Brant had been an ISB informant. The Navy may find the connection, but then again Varn had a tendency to catastrophize. It was the worst case scenario. Regardless, once they hit the ground, they’d have to gather the intelligence on the Navy’s foul up quickly before more measures were put in place to "get rid of evidence."

Within minutes, Vulgas came into view through the cockpit. Dolan had lost track of time as he went over in his head the possible problems caused by their interaction with the Imperials. He hoped that these mercenaries were not underestimating those they managed to trick for now, and only for now.

The ISB Agent decided to focus more on the landing approach. At first the world appeared as a swirling ball of white, blue and varying shades of green. As the ship soared through the atmosphere, Vulgas’ landscape appeared below as Rodia may have looked thousands of years ago: a beautiful lush jungle world untouched by development. Massive life readings were detected through The Rising Blade’s passive sensor scan. He was looking for a facility about the size of a Coruscant mall complex. Roughly 7000 inhabitants once lived there, and may still. Within seconds, power was detected from what appeared to be a hydro-electric system. It was coming from approximately 150 km to the south of their position; 15 minutes away.

Varn activated the ship’s intercom for the entire ship. Everyone was either working on maintaining the engine or was elsewhere, and he didn’t want them to miss this.

"I found it. We’ll be landing in the next few minutes, so get ready. If you want to take a peek at what we’re venturing into, come on up to the cockpit or go to the lounge and see through the viewer."

Soaring at 500 feet, the crew (for those interested in watching through the cockpit or lounge viewer) Galactic Chronological Time: less than 2 months prior to the Battle of Yavin
Mission Time: Hour 28.5 Since Introduction to Contract
General Location: Vulgas III, Approaching Research Facility
Specific Location: The Rising Blade
Time: 530 pm local

The landing repulsors fired and the ship’s landing legs deployed as it set down in the meter high brown, gold, and green grass. They were now safely on the ground. Varn once again clicked on the intercom:

"Landing ramp will open in two minutes. Grab your weapons and gear. Time to get to the bottom of what happened here. We’ll be heading southeast through the trees towards the facility ground. I’m heading out to look for a clearing and get a general feel for the area. Brace yourself for early evening temperatures in the jungle."