CH 1.1-a: Charitable Charlatan's

Nash lets out a singular laugh that dismisses the comlink's importance. "I didn't need to take your com link. You were bound, ankle and foot. Your communicating was the least of my concerns. Besides, we'd have stripped you down for tech and gear later, at our leisure. Relocating you was priority one."



He settles into the comfort of the cushioned bench style seats at the lounge table. "So... I can grasp the concept of galactic domination. I have to say, however, that the galaxy is already fairly dominated. The Empire rules with a disciplined and unforgiving hand, while the Republic has been reborn from the sparks of the Rebellion. And, as the Republic, they seek to finish what they started and rekindle the flame of a galaxy-wide democracy. To that end, the Empire and the Republic continue to war over the galaxy, ultimately fighting for the control, system by system."

He looks toward the console, then smooths his hair. "In the end, however, they're both just another type of government. Although, admittedly, the Republic would seem to be the... well, I guess one would call it the 'people's choice. I mean really, even if you don't truly have a say in matters of government, I'm certain that believing your elected official represents your interests can be comforting."

He pulls out a palm-sized plasteel case, which he opens to reveal some deathsticks. "What I really want to know is this: what makes the Sith think they can insert themselves into galactic politics and conflict, and come out on top? I'm not saying you and your kind can't, I'm simply curious as to what kind of power, invisible and unknown to the rest of the galaxy, can just enter the fray and hope to claim the spoils when it's all over? And, now that I'm on it, who exactly are the Sith?"

He removes one of the deathsticks and closes the case. "Do you mind if I smoke?"

Nice roll on the Leadership check. For the time being, for all intensive purposes, Nash Dalo trusts your judgement, and is inclined to follow your lead and not backstab you. However, he isn't a follower and won't take orders (to gain a follower requires a lot of Advantage on a roll, or a Triumph result). You can, however, trust that he is on your side, and will likely stay that way unless something changes his mind (whether as a result of your doing or some other effect that changes his views and turns him indifferent toward you, or against you). You can, naturally, try to nurture the relationship, and I will, at the appropriate times, either suggest you make another Leadership check, or roll in secret if that is more sensible, depending on the situation.

Below are messages received on your comlink, over an hour old (in the order they were received):

(1) Text from Tajanna: We're just finishing up business here; we'll be over shortly.

(2) Voice, from Hawke: "Be warned we are under attack. If feasible retreat to the ship and activate security drone."

Lissewa shakes her head at the messages. I can't believe how clueless they are. Well, this will work to my advantage at least.

"It appears nothing of importance was left on here anyway. And please, make yourself comfortable. The filters will take care of it."

Lissewa herself moved to the lounge's bar and poured two drinks of whatever was lying around and moved across the room to a seat of her own, handing one of the glasses to Nash.

"I believe this is the drink we're supposed to be having. As for the Sith, I'm not exactly a student of the histories. What we were taught was that a great and powerful being fled into deep space ages ago, long before this conflict between the Republic and the Empire. Some say a millennia, doesn't really matter. It was long enough that a new civilization was born from that individual and those who fled with him. He was said to have powers that most could not control, even more powerful than many of the Sith Lords that exist today, although don't tell them that."

She took a drink from her glass, enjoying the warm sensation in her throat. So much better than captivity.

"I won't lie to you, the Sith are ultimately tyrants. But they are fair tyrants. They believe power should be held by those who are strong enough to take it for themselves and everything revolves around this singular idea. In the thousand years we've existed this has made the Sith Empire a powerful force to be reckoned with. The Sith Lords, with their use of the force, put them at the pinnacle of the Empire and is the 2nd most powerful thing that will likely lead us to victory. The only thing that might stand in our way in that regard is the Jedi, assuming they even exist. Always sounded like nothing but childhood fantasy to me. But the thing that makes us most likely to win is the people of the Empire, even more so than the Lords. They are steadfastly devoted to the ideals of the Empire, many going so far as to worship the former Emperor as some sort of god. When you have that sort of fanatical devotion behind the force we have, it can be difficult to stop."

She stopped for a moment, recalling the messages she received from her comrades. "So, I have to ask, did you have a hand in attacking my teammates or was it something else? I'm not overly concerned about them. After all, all 4 of them are one of those Sith lords that I spoke of. They haven't quite reached the pinnacle of their power, supposedly, but I've read their files and I know the stories. They are definitely not to be trifled with. You were only able to take anybody captive because it just happened to me, the only one in the group that isn't one of them."

I assume you know that it was a flagrant and blatant lie about your friends being Sith Lords?

"Sith Lords? A moment." Nash takes out a small holo-com and places it on the table, then punches in a code. "Admittedly, it was my doing, having your associates ambushed outside of the cantina. Let's see how it went." A few moments pass, nobody answers his call. "I think it's safe to assume your --Sith Lords, correct?-- made short work of the help. No matter, they were contracted out so it won't be too much of a loss." He tamps the deathstick on the table, then reaches for the glass of Corellian brandy you had poured. It was the good stuff, one of the better sundries provided by STRAT-COM's quartermasters. Naturally, the recipe was developed from a bottle salvaged from a ship swallowed up by the Dark Veil long ago, but it was excellent, and well-aged.

He sighs. "Ah yes, the Jedi. They seems as bedtime stories to me as well, the kind meant to frighten children. Tales from a time when I was a child, barely able to walk. There is no recorded history of them, you know. Although I've heard the Emperor had them destroyed, as the Jedi were the corrupting force that had rotted the Old Republic from within. That broken democracy couldn't be trusted, hence the Galactic Empire, our bastion of peace and stability in these times. Or at least so we've been told. Personally, I prefer life in the CSA. Business rules and credits are all that matter."

He places the deathstick between his lips and lights it, taking a long drag, exhaling the smoke in satisfaction. Leaning in, close to you, conspiratorially, almost as if an unseen force could be listening, he continues, more personal, almost as if dropping a front he constantly maintains. "You know, what's really interesting is the fact that you hear these rumors, the kind that sound like fiction. All kinds of people pass through the cities of the CSA and Bonadan, and Kraspen gets the brunt of it, as the distribution hub of a massive network. Anyway, one night, I'm at Charlatan's, having a drink. There's this guy there. Was a security guard for the Empire, looking to catch on and get work as an Espo. Of course we'd both had some drinks, and eventually we're drinking buddies on occasion. Now, I'd never heard one of these tales before, but one night he tells me about how boring guard duty at an Imperial prison is. Nothing ever happens, he tells me, except this one night he was working." He takes another long drag.

"You see, that night, he's doing his thing and standing there, watching nothing happen, as usual, when all the sudden, alarms start blaring and buzzing. He gets a com telling him to him to take a new position near an exit and watch for escaped prisoners. Him and a whole squad take up post, right? And then, he tells me, it all goes to hell and turns to shit. Standing there, blasters ready, this guy comes running around the corner, a couple of others behind him in prison outfits, escaping, right?" Another drag. "Then all of the sudden, get this, the one leading the way pulls out a... dead serious here, from what I heard... a glowing blue sword. Just like the fairy tales. He said it was a 'living nightmare', and this guy cut them down quick, after some invisible force threw two of them against the wall! He ended up getting two cyber legs for it."

Another drag, then Nash settles back into the seat. "Of course, he was pretty blasted when he told me that story. But here's the real ion blast: he gets his Espo job, fits right in. Good 'Spo too. Then, a month or two later, he just stops showing up to work. A few days later, we send a squad of Espos to check his place out. And he's just gone. Never comes back to work. It didn't make sense. I mean, maybe he had his reasons, but he wasn't behind on the rent, and being an Espo was a pay bump, according to him. So, why leave, right?"

He puts out his deathstick, pulls out another, and lights it. He doesn't seem completely unnerved by the situation, but you get the feeling that he might be experiencing what it feels like for nightmares and bogeymen to become reality. Given some details you've mentioned, along with what would seem a fantastical tale of a long lost Sith Empire having battled the Jedi one thousand years ago, what he once considered fairy tales are starting to gain real-world credibility. Without a doubt, his world is taking a turn for the surreal. He shakes his head. "After what you said, well, it makes you wonder."

He takes another drink then extends the deathstick case to you, still open, offering. "Care for a smoke?"

Lissewa shook her head at the offer of the deathstick. The smell reminded her of the slave house, pretty much everyone smokes in there. While she wouldn't stop him or anyone else from taking enjoyment from them, she would never have one herself. Unless my life depends on it, I suppose.

His story about the mysterious man with the laser sword reminded her of the Sith's blades, though they were always red. She hadn't seen to many of them in her life to be fair. There wasn't that many reasons for a Sith to pull their blade out in public.

"Indeed, if that story has any truth then perhaps the Jedi do still exist. From the stories we passed down, we had always fought their order but it sounds as if that order has fallen. They won't likely represent an overt threat to our mission but that gives them the element of surprise should those that are left decide to stand against the Sith."

She finishes her drink and stands.

"Not that I wish to rush you but I believe we should get started soon. At the very least, my Sith comrades will likely be wondering where I am at this point."

She pulls out her commlink and opens the channel. "Is anyone there? Are you all alright? I made my way to the ship as instructed. I brought Zhaff's contact and a few of his men with me."

She covered the receiver and spoke again to Nash. "Is there somewhere else you wanted to meet?"

As you finish your attempt to contact the rest of the squad, you realize that the call simply isn't going through, for some reason.

Nash puts his deathstick case away and is silent for a moment after your question, then his expression of contemplation evolves into one that seems puzzled. He takes a long drag on his deathstick, then flicks at it with his thumb. "So, let me get this straight. You're working with Sith Lords as part of... some secret operation to wrest power from the Kraspen Board? I mean, if they're so damn important, why would four of them be boots on the ground taking the risk, exposing themselves? If they're really the pinnacle of your society --Lords-- then why wouldn't they just send some elite unit to do their dirty work?" You can tell that he believes your falsification of your squad mates' power, but it just doesn't make sense to him.

Your exaggeration of your squad mates power was an attempt at Deception, as you were trying to get him to believe that your associates are more powerful than they are, with far more authority than they actually have. You succeeded at the lie, but it came with a Despair. What I've done here is have him believe your lie, but question it as you saw above, putting him right on the edge of doubting it.

Answer as you see fit, and, if there is any deception to what you are saying, now or at any time in the future, roll a Deception check. As I've mentioned before: If there is even a shred of untruth or dishonesty in your social interaction, it requires a Deception check. I know you might think you were just stretching the truth (and you were, greatly, making it seem you were close to far more power than you are, in an attempt to appear far more important than you are), but I run Deception this way because far too frequently, players try to use Charm as the uber social skill, which takes away from the value of Deception.

Sometimes it makes sense to even combine more than one social skill at a time. This link on Social Skill Interactions from the library will surely be useful to you, and might be worth bookmarking for easy reference, as I see Lissewa dong a lot via talking, as you clearly intended and are doing, quite successfully.

As far as your com call to the group, the drive to the spaceport has put you too far ahead of them in time for me to actually send that call and have them respond. Hold off on trying to contact them. They're doing their own thing, and may be close to finished. Trust me when I say I'm really looking forward to bringing you all together, and will do so as soon as it makes sense. I've been GMing two games for awhile now, and there is only so much time in the day.

Lissewa realizes her mistake. He seems to have taken her literally in her interpretation of their power. She hadn't really meant to imply that they were 'true' Sith Lords, just up and coming Sith with a great amount of power, at least compared to her and typical soldiers. But perhaps this could work to her advantage.

Without missing a beat, she played once again on his own qualities. "Well, if you had a super secret mission to conquer the galaxy would you just send your 2nd best to take care of it?"

From the moment you began to tell your lie, Nash's eyes seemed to narrow a bit as he started reading you, obviously paying special attention to your eyes and face. When you finish, he takes a long drink, emptying the glass.

"No, I wouldn't send my second best. But I would send my best. Emphasis on the send, especially if I'm a lord. Something tells me with that much power, I don't need to do the dirty work anymore." He places the glass on the table, methodically doing so, drawing out the movement, almost as if he is practicing control. "You know, I told you before that I've got an eye for spotting lies." He took a drag from his deathstick.

"This isn't a good start to our new business relationship, and although I am very interested in pursuing one, I don't tend to get in bed with those I don't trust. That is, not if I can help it." He looks toward the door, then knowingly back at you, the body language clear: I'm still in control. "So please, tell me, why are you lying?"

I gave you the boost dice for him believing the previous lie, but not for the one about doing things his way (because it doesn't mesh with his views on power and how to use it). I also removed a setback dice for the lie itself (Convincing Demeanor), as it was simply a bad lie, and didn't really make sense (even a holovid will show you that powerful people have operatives to do their dirty work for them, and Nash, although clearly not as powerful as he'd like to be, probably has some experience with delegating important work to those that serve him). Ultimately, your check was a failure.

Whatever you decide to do, this tests his trust of you and in your judgement as a leader/decision maker, so make another Leadership roll vs 1 Purple, 2 Red, 2 Setback (being caught lying, then trying to lie your way out of it). You can, naturally, pair that roll with another kind of social check if you so choose, as long as it makes sense (if you're trying to Charm, there needs to be some sort of conversation that has that feel, etc. "I Charm him" isn't good enough).

Lissewa laughed and smiled at him. "Are you always going to be this dramatic anytime anyone lies to you? Better get used to it, it is simply our way."

She leaned in closer to him. "Honestly, I just wanted to see how far I could go with the lie. Test the waters of your abilities. Clearly you can see through obvious lies. But you can't entirely see when someone lies without knowing it, though you had your doubts. I made a mistake earlier in comparing my colleagues to true Sith Lords. Slip of the tongue mostly." She smiled innocently as if it were all some game.

"It's not a bad quality to have, the ability to discern lies. But I wonder if you have the ability to actually use it to your advantage. I've only seen you use it in this setting, in a place where you clearly are still in charge. Are you able to keep your knowledge of the lie secret, to use against your enemy at the right time? Or do you always just point and say you are lying?" She points at him for emphasis.

Nash seems to buy into your playful charms that suggest you were just testing him. He smiles. "I'm not a bantha's ass, you know. I know when to keep information to use as a tool." Smoke drifts upward from his deathstick. His tone becomes more serious, sincerity more than anything. "Look, I simply don't like being lied to. Perhaps it's common for you and the rest of the Sith, and I even have to deal with it as part of my line of work." He looks thoughtful, then takes a hit and exhales. "Naturally, I even use the occasional lie when necessary. But I absolutely deplore lies being used against me. Second guessing business partners, sussing out hidden agendas, looking over your shoulder... it's irritating, to say the least. Unnecessary when true professionals do good business. Don't expect me to get used to it. Don't lie to me again. You can expect the same in return from me."

His gaze turned toward the fresher, then he flicked his glass once. "Mind if I have another drink? Corellian brandy again, if you don't mind. Good stuff."

From your Charm roll it helped smooth over his reaction to the failed Deception, in addition to working well with your successful Leadership roll, which has the effect of maintaining his faith in your judgement and decision making. He's not a follower, but is inclined, for now, to go with your ideas and plans as good courses of action (unless they're simply bad ideas, which will naturally be flat out rejected or require additional Leadership tests, etc).

Lissewa smiled once again and stood up. "Very well, we'll keep things strictly business then," she said as she made her way over to the bar to pour another glass.

As she walked it back over to him, she questioned him again. "Well, I'm having a little trouble getting a hold of the others. Did you simply want to wait for them or go out looking? Or perhaps go somewhere else until I can get in contact with them?"

Nash accepts the drink. "Thank you." He takes a slow pull from the glass, clearly savoring the experience. "As far as contacting your associates, let's give them some time. Personally, it's been a trying day." He chuckled at that last remark, although it seemed genuine humor as to how the situation turned out. "As I'm sure you would agree. And, in my experience, sometimes waiting a bit can yield wonderful results, assuming you've got the right people on the job. I've come to understand that sometimes there are just complications that can only be rectified by the passage of time. There was a time when I was more... worrisome, I suppose. Now, I tend to think toward the future, thinking through possible scenarios and outcomes, as a means of being prepared for immediate, and decisive, action."

He takes out his death stick case, then thinks twice, and simply sets it on the table. Another pull from the brandy, although just a taste this time. "Let's give it some time. Until then, perhaps you could give me some insight as to what your immediate aims are, along with any broad strokes you feel necessary to asserting Sith authority over Kraspen, and, I imagine, all of Bonadan. Lastly, I'd hate to be presumptuous, as such I'd also be interested in knowing what rewards I can expect for affiliating myself with you and yours, and, more importantly, facilitating success in your endeavors. Make no mistake, here in Kraspen, on Bonadan, we are at the nerve center of the CSA. The crown jewel of the Corporate Sector. Taking it will be the most important piece of the CSA puzzle, I assure you."

Lissewa thought a moment. It was true that they hadn't really come up with a plan yet. After all their mission had a very basic first step that they had yet to accomplish which would likely hold the information that was necessary to detail their strategy.

"As I've said immediate concerns is getting in contact with Flesh Crawler. He had been here far longer than us, with the mission of collecting the necessary information we need to know for bringing down Bonadan. Ultimately, agents have been given very little guidance, as you have seen, as to how to go about completing their missions just so long as Bonadan and the rest of the sector are ready to be taken by the Sith, ideally with a limited amount of resistance to the idea."

She sat and folded her legs, continuing. "Obviously, we don't have the power necessary to topple the government by force so we will need to use a bit more intrigue to get our way. Any plan we come up with, if we wish to accomplish our goal, would have to end with the people in charge willingly submitting to Sith rule, whether they fully understand what that means or not."

She stares at him intently. "This is where people like you come in and therein also lies your reward. The easiest method I can see for preparing the world would be to put someone who is our ally at the top. As I've stated before, despite our abilities we will not be able to accomplish our goal without somewhere to start. You have contacts, holdings, personnel and I assume access to capital. While it may not be enough to topple the government, it is enough to get started. It will be on us to maneuver you into a position of greater power so that you can use that power to begin the process of subverting the masses. We will of course continue supporting you with our own specialties: intimidation, subterfuge, sabotage, assassination and of course...diplomacy." She flipped her lekku as she said this last part, making it clear what her specialty was.

"This is of course a very rough plan but I believe regardless of the form in which it ultimately takes this will be the foundation of any plan we use to take the planet. So, what do you think?"

"A good plan always starts out rough, and needs fine tuning. And although you've seen that I have... shall we say, the potential for extreme measures? In the end, my preference leans strongly toward your ideas: subtlety, political machinations, and control from behind the holo camera." He smoothed his hair, then flashed an ambitious smile, his tone matching the look. "And I am all for being placed in a position of power. If you need a figurehead to run Bonadan, you're in the right place. Kraspen is the seat of power. To gain that position, you'd have to get me on the Board. And to have a controlling influence, I would need to be the majority shareholder. I've got pull, and contacts: I'm an Espo Investigator, not to mention a... manager, you could say, in a criminal organization simply known as the Corporation, although that's clearly less widely known."

He took another drink, then pulled another deathstick from the case on the table. His expression changed suddenly. Sullen, distraught. He rubbed his jaw where the burn marks covered the side of his face. He lit the deathstick, then looked at you, almost devoid of expression.

"There could be... a problem. This... Flesh Crawler you speak of... I may, in fact... well, I believe I have met him." A modicum of trust seemed to be visible on his face, and audible in his voice, as if he was sharing something he couldn't speak of, until now. It was as if he was confessing. He gestured toward the scarred half of his face. "He's the one who did this. I've been working for him. More like doing his bidding, really." He closed his eyes, his fingers still tracing lines in the scarred web on his cheek and jaw, then opened them. "Since we're sharing now, I believe he may be this Flesh Crawler you speak of. He came out of nowhere, a little more than half a year ago. Nobody knows where he's from. Quickly inserted himself into the Corporation. Somehow." He seemed truly puzzled by that last word. "He went from a nobody to giving me orders in a matter of weeks, and his star seems always on the rise."

He took a drag from his deathstick, then emptied the glass again. "I defied him once, and he gave me this... a reminder, he called it. Some kind of high tech weapon must have been in his hand. I couldn't see it, but it seemed like electricity, bolts of it, were just flowing from his hand. Took me down hard. I couldn't move, and he just came closer, and focused it on my face. The last thing I remember seeing before I went black was the look on his face. He was... laughing. Grinning, ear to ear." He paused, thoughtful. "Twice I've sent assassins to kill him, contracted through discretionary channels from outside the system. They disappeared."

He leaned closer to you, the stoic coldness back in his voice. "This Flesh Crawler, you can't trust him." He took a long drag. "He is the one who had me arrange for your ambush in the hangar here. Of course, I'm not surprised that you and your associates easily dispatched a bunch of gangers. Sorry about that inconvenience."

He sighed, and looked down at the table. "He has, in every sense, made me his slave. Usurped most of my power. I'd see him dead."

Lissewa considered what Nash had told him. Based on what she'd learned so far, she didn't think he was lying. No one else could have known of their arrival at that exact hangar and the exact time they were set to arrive. It hadn't occurred to her that Flesh Crawler might have turned against them though. What could he be thinking? He knew we were coming and therefore the rest of the fleet as well.

"This could be a very big problem. If this problem of yours is indeed our contact and he has turned against us then he may be planning something for the rest of the fleet as well. The entire operation could be at risk. Eliminating him would certainly become priority number one."

She softened her tone, using it to beseech him for information. "I can tell that you have mixed feelings about this individual but I need to know as much as you can tell me. We can start by working our way back. What were you hoping to gain by bringing me to him? And who exactly did he send to eliminate us at the hangar? I'm not sure if you are aware but we were not responsible for eliminating those thugs. All of them were already dead by the time we arrived. Knowing where allegiances lie at this point will be necessary for turning this situation to our favor."

"Really?! I assumed you and your associates killed them all. Based on Zhaff's report, I got the impression you were a serious mercenary outfit, corp headhunters, or military." Nash looks somewhat perplexed. "I sent a local street gang, the Dead Floaters, as a welcoming party. Of course, I did so per the orders of my 'Master'." He shakes his head, almost as if in disbelief. "And yeah, he has me call him that. I swear, it kills me every time I say it. Why I did it? Simple. To avoid his wrath, until I can find some weakness, anything I can exploit to take him out of the picture. I can't just keep throwing assassins at him without a plan. Sooner or later, it'll come back to me."

He flicks at his empty glass a couple of times. "So, then, if you and yours didn't take out those gangers, who the hell did? And why?"

We're going to do a little time warping here, and assume they were other tidbits of conversation besides what's written, as a means of bringing the group back together. Respond as you like to Nash in this thread, then feel free to contact the rest of the group via comlink, requesting that they meet you at the ship. Monday we'll bring the group together. :)

Lissewa pondered Nash's word for a moment. If he was responsible for the Dead Floaters, then how did the Mechers get mixed up into it? And who was this mysterious assailant that took out both groups? She also couldn't help but feel a twinge of sympathy for Nash. Though they clearly had different circumstances, she knew how it felt to not be free to pursue your own goals. The more she heard, the more she realized that Nash was as much a slave as she had been. She was not an altruistic person but the one thing that she wouldn't do is kill someone who wasn't acting on their own ambitions. So, for now at least, she would help this man gain his freedom.

"At first we believed that the two groups, the Dead Floaters and, I believe Zhaff called them Mechers, had taken each other out. But after we inspected their wounds and listened to Zhaff's story, we began to realize that someone else was involved. The previous story you told me, the one concerning the Espos in the prison. The mysterious individual with a sword of light. Someone like a Jedi or a Sith would certainly be capable of the carnage that was caused there. I haven't heard of any other Sith sent on this mission but if your Espos speaks the truth, perhaps this individual is still here on the planet. As to why, I haven't the faintest idea."

She gave him a smile after she finished. "But, I do know one thing that will certainly work to your advantage. If your Master wanted you to have us killed, he clearly didn't want us to be on the planet. This can only mean he considers us a threat. We have the means to bring him down and this will likely need to be our first mission to accomplish. Can't really get much done while someone is gunning for you, can you?"

Growing impatient, Lissewa pulled out her commlink again. "Hey, what are you all doing? I know you're there. I'm waiting at the ship with a guest. Get here ASAP!"

Switching it off and turning her head towards Nash. "Sorry, but we've waited long enough. It won't be long before Master starts to suspect something is off."