The Dead Drop

As you approach the Dead Drop, it's in the last few minutes of the ride that you notice the change in scenery, as illuminated by the rays of a setting Bonadan sun. First, traffic thins out, then becomes sparse, eventually becoming almost non-existent. The off-white, tan, and light grey buildings, the streets, everything about the infrastructure around you become more dilapidated as you get closer to your destination, until finally you're hovering along the broken fragments of what was once a road. You skirt around vehicles abandoned in the streets, in various states of wreckage or disrepair. Traffic signals hang lifelessly from their fixtures. Red Bonadan sand completely fills in the cracks and potholes, piling meters high against walls in spots, spilling out of buildings, some of them completely flooded with sand. Looking above, you notice that air traffic, in all directions, completely circumvents the neighborhood.

The streets aren't completely lifeless, however, as you notice the occasional cantina and neighborhood shop still open for business, bodegas run by shady merchants scattered here and there. Sentient species of all kinds dot the streets, and it's not difficult to spot the criminal elements either. Narcotics dealers stand on their corners, looking a little too vigilant to simply be loitering. Prostitutes, obvious in their dress and behavior toward you as you pass by, tend to congregate in small groups closer to the cantinas, ready for the impending nightlife. As you descend from the top of a sand dune you see a plaza, long dry fountains and crumbling statues surrounding what you're certain is a slave auction, with a variety of manacled, naked beings, mostly Twi'leks, in line for their turn on the block, a few dozen bidders waiting for the chance to own their first slave, or expand their stable.

Finally, you see it, nestled in an open space between buildings, at the corner of a crumbling intersection: a single-story, tan colored building, about the size of a corner store, no windows, a couple dozen vehicles parked outside. The plascrete walls holding it up look solid, as if they were actually repaired when necessary, in contrast to most of the neighborhood's general state of decay. A flat roof rests on top, and although there is no signage to be seen, you're sure you've arrived at the Dead Drop, based on the navcomputer's directions. Erasing any doubt of the navcomputer's accuracy, you immediately come to understand the origins of the cantina's moniker as you look for a parking spot, your attention drawn away from the three hookers working the cantina front door.

About 20 meters beyond the rear of the cantina, the ground drops off sharply at a cliff, at the edge of a small canyon of sorts. Looking across, you estimate it to be about a kilometer wide, and perhaps two kilometers long in either direction from your current location. A singular bridge a couple of city blocks away stretches across the width of the chasm, a large central tower rising through and above the bridge itself, with smaller support structures still standing the test of time. Although the setting Bonadan sun leaves much of it in shadow at this time of day, you see a variety of buildings and varying support structures, cascading down the walls of the canyon in terraces that encroach further inwards as they near the canyon floor, perhaps 150 meters down.

Finally, you find an open spot as Lexi parks the ECUL right up against the corner of the Dead Drop's rear wall, on the canyon side. A shifty looking Bothan dressed in a hooded robe leans up against the wall near the cantina's back door. He pulls off his breath mask for a moment to take a drag from his death stick. Holding the smoke in for a moment, he exhales, then holds the breath mask to his face again as he turns to look in your direction, eying you through tinted goggles.

Welcome to the Dead Drop.

Although the ECUL didn't seem to have any problems after the chase, and the engine still sounded fine, Hawke is understandably not taking any chances. As the squad preps and takes stock of the situation, he gives the speeder a walk around inspection, then pops the hood for a quick look. Satisfied that their transportation has only suffered additional kilometers on the odometer, he rejoins the discussion.

As you loiter by the rear corner of the Dead Drop, on the canyon-side, the dying rays of the Bothan sun painting the canyon walls a rusty orange hue, you notice one of the prostitutes you saw working the front door step out from around the far corner. Dressed in a black two-piece outfit that leaves little to the imagination, she's an extremely attractive Twi'lek, especially helped along on Bonadan by the fact that she's not wearing a breath mask.



Standing there for a moment she turns to head back, takes a step, then stops. Looking over her shoulder in your direction, she seems hesitant as she sizes you up.

All the while, the shifty looking Bothan dealer eyeballs you, alternating between breath mask and smoking, until he flicks the death stick toward the cliff, a sudden gust of wind carrying it just over the edge with a puff of dust and sand. Tapping away leisurely on a datapad, he seems disinterested in your presence, looking down at the screen, tinted goggles concealing any subtle efforts he might make to watch you.

In the distance you can make out some of the general din in the neighborhood: the yelling and screaming of some escalating domestic dispute, a couple of speeders roaring to life then rapidly approaching high speeds, the slave auctioneer selling lives through a vocal amplifier. More constant in the air is the sound of what you can only guess is a party of some kind, more distant, occasional cheers and laughter underscored by music, the faint sounds of something uptempo yet laid back.

I've adjusted inventories as necessary, but in the future, please note specific changes you'd like in OOC format at the bottom of your post, to make them more salient. As always, I encourage you to make sure the changes are correct.

It's always relevant, and I've noted it on your character sheet. Your characters, your choices. Thus far, the only assumptions I've made about any of your gear is that the lightsabers are concealed.

Squeeks and Tefmon have specified how they are wearing their weapons, the rest of you should as well.

Well, you either flip it or you don't, as the only way you can find if there is anything of consequence is to use the power (which costs 2 Dark Side points with Sense: Read Thoughts). Regardless, I'm just going to go with your desire to flip the destiny token, which allows you to tap into the Light Side for power, suffering 3 Strain per Light point used. You only need 1, so 3 Strain for Krosus.

Which reminds me to reset everyone's Strain and remove 1 Wounds for your rest on the Spear. I'm not infallible guys, you should keep an eye on your character sheets!

It warms my dark GM heart to happily inform you that the Destiny Pool is at...

0 Dark

6 Light

You have a bad feeling about this...

Also, starting now and moving forward, tapping into the Light Side of the Force will accrue three Conflict, a truly pathetic act for one who strives to embrace the Dark Side. So, Krosus accrues 3 Conflict for weakly tapping into the Light Side of the Force. Surprise, CCL, although I wouldn't worry too much, as Morality isn't a difficult game mechanic for players to manipulate, especially when you're playing Dark Side/Sith characters. From an RP standpoint, this makes sense, as it's hard to imagine a Dark Side character tapping into the Light as easily as a Light Side character would be tempted by the Dark.

Resetting everyone's Conflict from the last Morality roll, and your Strain/Wounds adjustments for the night's rest on the Spear.

As you start to make your way toward the front of the building, the Twi'lek prostitute seems as if she's anticipating your arrival. Although she doesn't appear nervous, she throws a couple of glances toward what you assume are the other two prostitutes at the front door. As you get closer, she takes a couple of slow steps and disappears around the corner. Continuing on your way, somewhat cautious of her behavior, you turn the front corner of the building and she's right there, leaning up against the wall in one of what you assume are one of many working girl poses.

With a quick up and down look at the lot of you, she pushes lithely off the wall. Addressing Lissewa, she speaks just loud enough for all of you to hear. "You're Lissewa, right?" She punctuates the question with a knowing, confident hint of a smile, eyebrow cocked ever so slightly. The stench of the Bonadan air doesn't seem to bother her at all.

Beyond her, you see one of the prostitutes you saw on the ride in, a human, lazily strut into the cantina, leaving the other, another Twi'lek, still at the front door working solo. Another speeder, a luxury sedan model with red tinted windows and an irridescent purple paint job, drifts into the parking lot, heading toward the back around the opposite side of the building from where you are. A piece of lonely debris bounces along down the street, picked up for a couple of seconds by a gust of wind.

The prostitute is taken aback for a moment, then flashes a flirty smile at Lissewa, accompanied by a subtle shift in pose that accentuates the profile of her curves. "Hmmm. Well," she says, voice like honey, "I might be able to fit you in later, but I'm already on the clock. Client's got me keeping an eye out, and I only do one client at a time." She gave Krosus a lingering glance. "Of course, there are always exceptions to the rule."

Back to the task at hand, she gives the group another once over. "C'mon. You're Lissewa... right? You've got to be. I mean, you and your friends fit the bill... purple Twi'lek, a Chiss, a pair of robed types, and a guy rocking head to toe armor."

She glances over her shoulder toward the front door, then back at the group, then Lissewa. "Trust me." Another smile. "Just follow me, and I can take you to meet my client."

Good call on the roll Squeeks, as it is a Deception wherein you are allowing the possibility that you are not Lissewa (and she has the potential to see through it, even if the situation is just a more light-hearted one). Although my roll was better than your placeholder, there was a lot of setback because your group perfectly fits the description she was given, and the prostitute sees through any attempt to keep your identity vague.

Also, hopefully everyone is comfortable with the narrative above (remember, our Star Wars game is meant to be edgier, darker). Just keeping my prostitute as believable as possible, and Lissewa and Krosus both have good Presence.