View Full Version : Between For and Ever IC

9 December 2005, 09:51 AM
A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away…

Episode MCMLXXXIV: Between For and Ever

It is a time of CIVIL WAR. The REBEL ALLIANCE managed to destroy the EMPIRE’S terrifying weapon – the DEATH STAR. The heroes of the Rebellion take flight from the wrath of LORD VADER.

Meanwhile, certain illicit markets flourish. Old artifacts are becoming very valuable and change hands often. DUKE NARCASSAN hires a group of freelancers from ORD MANTELL and requests that they meet him on SHESHARILE 5, in a distant corner of the Galaxy, on the edge of the MINOS CLUSTER.

Speculations among the freelancers abound. They know little about DUKE NARCASSAN’S plans – only that they are to meet a DR GAST in the capital city of GALLISPORT. Their ship, the TRIUMPH’S ORPHAN, is just leaving the hyperspace.

Shesharile. A system located so far away from everything that its planets didn’t even deserve to have real names. You realize it the second your hyperjump ends, with the memory of Sluis Van – through which you’ve been passing to get some more accurate astrogation data on the route here – long gone, now replaced by this.
The sun glares straight into Orphan’s cockpit for a brief moment as the ship decelerates from hyperjump speed to its normal, interstellar, pace, then some of its rays are blocked out when the gas giant, Shesh, comes between the sun and your ship. On the left hand, close – nearly close enough for your ship to begin slipping into its gravitation well – you are passing Shesharile 6, one of the Twin Planets, as they are called. On the darkened side, you can see the throbbing of millions of lights, like yellow pox marks on the face of the overpopulated moon. Ahead, on Shesharile 5, the situation doesn’t seem to be different. The colours of the planet seem faded, perhaps owing to the pollution levels in the moon’s atmosphere.
Shanesh, switching off the autopilot and taking hold of the controls, checks up on the post-jump data dump and notices that everything seems to be okay. He’s going through the routine of turning on the METOSP feed channel and quickly sets the subspace transmitter to Gallisport’s frequency once he gets the frequency from the automated METOSP feed. Several controllers are handling the arrivals and departures, and even though it seems that it’s the spaceport is quite congested, you suspect it’s more a matter of local traffic, than flights inbound from beyond the Minos Cluster. A controller’s query lights a dial on the ship’s transponder.
The lone YT-1350 is closing to Shesharile 5, its passengers nearer to their destiny with every second now.

9 December 2005, 01:05 PM
Figures. The only places left with good artifacts are those not even the rebs would use. Shanesh thinks to himself as he opens the com to the waiting query light.

As he waits for the response, he does a quick once over of his ships system.

9 December 2005, 10:11 PM
“This place looks even more desolated then that farming colony out in the Tion, were we went half a year ago. Any visible imps in system?”, asks Eboran putting a tone of fake professional boredom into his voice, whilst he keeps checking his datapad for planet and regional history.

9 December 2005, 11:10 PM
Shanesh grunts a laugh and looks over the intersystem transponder list, checking for imperial identification.

"At least that colony had clean air. I think we all might die of poisoning before we're through here." Turning to look at his compatriots, Shanesh grunts and smiles. "Either that or we'll all turn a lovely shade of brown."

10 December 2005, 12:10 AM
Eboran draws up a eyebrow sceptically and scratched the thin beard on his chin. „You might, I got the racial immunity factor on my side. At least one good thing about that my ancestors had there planet polluted by the corporates, but it would properly really be safer if we take a few of the breath masks out of the survival locker before we leave the ship.” The young treasure hunter takes another look at the approaching planet and the murky soup that it has for atmosphere.

10 December 2005, 02:20 AM
Eboran, seated quite comfortably in one of the two passenger seats in the YT's cockpit, fiddles with his datapad, parsing through his history card's contents. While the data mentions some Shesharile 5 and 6, it fails to provide any more information. Either there's not much on Shesharile 5 (both literally and metaphorically), or it's something else... like... maybe a different name? He stares quizzicaly at the datapad, then looks over at Shanesh.

Meanwhile, your captain, Shanesh himself, establishes a com connection with the querying controller.
Ah... Good... Hey, there, unidentified vessel... We'd like your ship's name- along with your ship type- the captain's name, last port of call and- something else?- ah, rite, purpose of arrival In a voice that sounds a bit childish... After a very breif pause it speaks again, each word spoken rather fast And transmit the transponder codes, while you're at it.
Also, according to Eboran's request, Shanesh does a scaner sweep, picking up several ship signatures, but it appears that there are no Imps. Anyway, not in the vicinity of your ship.

10 December 2005, 02:55 AM
„Now, this planet must really be extremely unimportant in galactic history, or someone messed with the records.” Eboran puts his datapad away and starts searching his memory for something someone might have once mentioned about the planet, whilst he watches another freighter land.

11 December 2005, 01:44 AM
Frowning a little, Shanesh shurgs, and activates the com, "Ah... right control, this is the YT-1350 Triumph's Orphan Captain Shanesh, commanding. Our last port of call was Sluis Van. As to our business, you were the closest system when our hyperdrive started acting up.

Shanesh then waves Eboran over and points at a screen where he types Go in back and sabotage the hyperdrive. Make it something easy to fix in a hurry, but hard to find unless your looking for it.

He then makes a quick log entry about dropping off a shipment of power packs to Sluis Van before turning back to the com, "Codes are coming your way, control. Is there anything else I can help you with?"

11 December 2005, 04:07 AM
Eboran nods and jumps up from his seat, muttering to himself he draws the tool kit from his utility belt and heads back to the engine room, to get to the grisly deed of crippling the hyper drive, hopefully without taking out the thing permanently.

11 December 2005, 04:33 AM
The Action IV freighter that was ahead of you in the approach path slid to the right, as it was directed to a different landing pad, its landing lights cast blue and red hues over your cockpit and then withered away. Garan watched it, as it moved away from sight, then turned his head to look at the light of dawn, as it was visible at that height. He was also thinking about… yes, there was a certain Corellian pilot, perhaps a few months ago, that said he was doing regular routes between several backwater worlds, including this here Shesharile. You remember him mentioning some kind of conflict between some groups on the planet… A kind of civil war, only on a local scale. But it was supposedly finished already. Of course, the Empire had it’s hand in it- they’ve established a small embassy in Gallisport, but it’s more of a barracks for the local Stormie battalion. Then he leaves for the hyperdrive.
Meanwhile, you're entering the upper layers of the atmosphere, with the Orphan trembling a little as it pierces into the gravitational bubble of the moon. You notice that Gallisport is a bit overcast and your sensors pick up some small atmospheric storms. So maybe what you took for pollution at first, was not necessarily pollution. Well, not all of it, at least, because the Corellian pilot also said that the place was famous for its noxious atmosphere. Still, it somehow manages to classify as type I, breathable, on the Galactic charts.

Control here. Roger that, Captain Shanesh... There are a few seconds of silence before the voice continues, sounding perhaps a little less relaxed Transmitting data for the approach path Gamma-12, follow it to landing bay 30C. Gamma-12, just follow the nav waypoints I've sent you. Then you hear something spoken quickly, a little quiter. Perhaps to someone sitting near the controller. Maybe just some innocent chit-chat. Maybe not. Gallisport welcomes you. The temperature is 17 centigrees, with some rain and thunder. Nothing special, just follow your path. Your cleared to land, over and out.

All the while the controller is speaking, your ship closes the surface. You've already left the upper layers of the atmosphere, plunging into the pre-dawn darkness that still covers the ground level.
There is precipitation cropping up on your windscreen as you burst through the rather dense cloud cover, to emerge a couple dozens of meters below, to witness the expanse of Gallisport. Nothing impressive, in fact. The spaceport seems crammed in between some residential and commercial quarters, but not far off you also see the factory districts, smoke and steam marking the sites of factory chimneys. Multicoloured lights mark the presence of high rise buildings, as your ship nimbly slaloms in safe distance between them. The ground level is covered in fog, but you notice many speeders edging their way in the morning traffic. A lightning strikes once in a while, its sound reaching you with delay.
You begin to make out the main spaceport building, and following the approach path shown by the computer – occasionally aided by nav buoys floating around on repulsors – you close on what you identify as the landing bay 30C. The com radio chatters quietly with the usual arrival-departure procedures. As the ships slows down to hover above the landing bay, you also begin to hear the drumming of rain on your ship’s hull and the view becomes partially obscured as your engine wash turns the air behind your ship to steam, with the steam blown in front of the cockpit.

11 December 2005, 12:25 PM
Shanesh puts her down softly and locks down the controls. He rises from his seat and heads to the hyperdrive.

Entering the engine room, Shanesh is struck by th oddity in front of him. It appears his hyperdrive has sprouted legs and an arm, which flail about every now and then. When Eborran peaks his head out with a now slightly out-of-sinc coupler, Shanesh nods and waves to the boarding ramp.

"Come on. Lets go see if they can 'fix' this thing. Then we'll go see if theres any respectable places to drink around here," he says with a little grin.

11 December 2005, 10:17 PM
Eboran uses a piece of cloth to wash a grease stain from his hands and sits up on the deck.
“It should take them a while, I messes up the hyper drive couplings creating a complete circuit and but a little charge through it. It should look like one of the couplers came loose during a hasty jump out a bit to close to a gravity well. It should take them a while to find and all we have to do to get it back working is move two wires back into the right place. Just a question of were to look. I learned that little trick from a old smuggler by the name of Fen” Eboran than throws the piece of cloth back into a small maintenance cupboard and puts his tools back into the utility belt. “Lets get going and let’s hope our employer does not make us wait to long.” He heads for the airlock taking his equipment along expect his field kit for less urban adventures. He also quickly strapps on his blast armour, just in case it might be needed.

13 December 2005, 12:37 PM
Roek stared out the viewport down to the world below. Looks like a great place to make a name for myself he thinks, sarcastically. He still wondered exactly why he jumped on board this freighter bound for some unknown backwater world. Just as quickly, he glanced over at his sometimes partner, Shanesh, realizing that he was here for the same reason that he always went on adventures around the galaxy. Roek "woke up", from his thoughts and prepared to make ground fall, find out about this planet, and then figure out how to have some fun.

[OOC: I'll get an equipment list to you guys as soon as possible.]

15 December 2005, 05:11 AM
After a while of gathering up the gear you wanted to take with you, you meet up back near the cockpit corridor, where the entrance hatch is. Your steps resound on the deck plating as you go there. Shanesh notices that the orange hatch safety lamp is lighted - the bloody thing must have broken down again. For the seventh time in a month.
For a moment, you can hear only the persistent rain, nothing else. Someone takes a deep breath and the hatch is opened with a loud hiss - as the compressed air from the hydraulic pistons is thrown outside in a sigh, instantly turned to steam and blown all around the entrance hatch area by the wind. You also smell the humid, heavy air. Roek coughs quietly as he tries to adapt to it.
The quiet 'hatch-open' buzzer is whining monotonously, you also hear the sound of traffic and the muffled hum of a crowd outside the landing bay.
When some of the steam evaporates, you notice more details of the bay's inside. The bay is rather spacious, with more or less ten metres of free space left from both the bow and the stern of the Orphan. The walls are worn down duracrete, with a small roof covering the area directly near the walls. You see some big crates standing there, some gas bottles. There are no rain pools on the landing surface, as it’s grilled, so the water trickles down. Nevertheless, it looks wet and most probably is slippery. You notice two exits from the bay: a big door for cargo and a small door for personnel.
Near to that door you see six men standing, sheltered under the roof. They seem to be the local customs service and have the look of grizzled pros. Their blasters are armed and ready, with their trigger fingers resting on the trigger guards. Five of them are wearing dark grey blast vests, with goggled helmets covering all but their mouths. The sixth one is wearing a now soaked dark grey cape and a cap that used to be an officer’s cap, but now is only a piece of deformed, soaked, material. They begin to trot in your direction, the officer covering his wet hair with the remains of the cap.

15 December 2005, 06:19 AM
Eboran takes a good look around and then whispers to his co-adventures “It looked worse from orbit. I’ll take care of customs, try not to shoot through me if anything goes wrong and keep your IDs ready“, before he steps forward in the direction of the customs officer putting on a friendly smile. “Putta na nolia (huttish for good day to you). How may we be of help?”

15 December 2005, 12:18 PM
Roek nods immperceptibly after Eboran's statement. He hitches up his duffel bag farther on to his shoulder, and rests his hand lightly on his hidden blaster pistol.

15 December 2005, 11:31 PM
Counting guns on the approaching security, Shanesh grunts an acknowledgement to Eboran. He then attempts to "persuade" the safety light to turn off with a judicious application of force.

16 December 2005, 09:01 AM
The approaching group quickly covers the distance between the sheltered space near the wall and the shelter of your ship's hull overhead. Once they do, the slow down and approach you in a more respectable, if not menacing, manner, casting bossy looks on you ship and on you. A sudden noise drowns the whining of the hatch buzzer, as some freighter flies over the bay. You notice the five soldiers, their helmets characterized by a sharp design and an emblem consisting of two circles and a fist between them, are wearing something like a tunic that comes from under their vests, a tunic reaching half the length of their thighs. The tunics, soaked of course, are dark green in colour, now of an even darker and deeper tone. The officer in the middle looks about 40 years of age and you immediately notice that his eyes are like piercing stilettos, nested close to the nose. He stops in front of you, wipes his mustachios from raindrops and wrings his cap. He then again looks up at you, raising his head slightly higher than one normally would and opening his mouth slightly.
Captain Shanesh? I’m lieutenant Denco. Reneck Denco, in case you’d think it’s my twin brother. Mind if we come in and go through some formalities? Let’s go inside, won’t we. I hate this darned rain. I hate it. – here he spits with contempt – Things like that weren’t even meant for this place he adds. You see some of the soldiers behind him nod their heads and one of them says Bad poodoo at that. Bad things gonna happen .
Shanesh’s intervention makes the lamp go out. Possibly for good. The officer looks up the entrance ramp, resting his hand on one of the pistons and then turning to the soldiers accompanying him says Boys, you know what to do. And hurry up, we’ve got that Action IV to do in bay 26D. Then he mutters something quietly and turns again to Eboran.

16 December 2005, 02:29 PM
Hoping to catch the securty detail off-guard, Shanesh responds,"It's a pleasure, Lieutenant," Nodding aprovingly at his 'handiwork' he then turns his bandaged face to the security group and motions for them to enter and go about thier inspection. "I dislike the rain as well."

16 December 2005, 10:23 PM
Eboran keeps smiling and aggress with the Lieutenant about the weather, as he follows the group into the small “merc” freighter. He introduces the group, himself as a merchant and art collector from Mantell, his colleagues as his associates, Captain Shanesh as the owner of the ship and Roek as his personal guard. Then he puts on a friendly casual tone, whilst handing over his ID for checking.

“You mentioned a twin brother, lieutenant, does he work for the local security forces as well?”

18 December 2005, 12:21 PM
Walking between Eboran on the left hand and Shanesh on the right hand, Lt. Denco drops a glimpse on the ID cards you handle him, then puts his hand over his shoulder and one of the soldiers accompanying him takes the cards for a more thorough check. Rulk notices that the soldier takes out something from his pocket and scans the IDs.
Meanwhile, you find yourself in the ship's main lounge area and Lt. Denco stops. He lifts a finger and shakes it threateningly at you all, Eboran especially.
My brother – He looks suspiciously at Eboran and says, eyes narrowed in suspicion you’re not human, are you? Balosar, huh? – doesn’t work for the Order Brigades, oh no he doesn’t. He’s a step higher than I am. He’s one of the Watchmen, an inspector! – here the threatening finger goes up, above Denco’s head, as if piercing into the imagined step higher. Four of the five soldiers go on searching the ship, while the fifth – the one that’s been checking your ID, which he hands back – stays with Denco, still ready to open fire should anything go irreversibly wrong. Though despite his grizzled look, he still looks like he hopes that this will turn out as another routine customs check, not willing to go gun-crazy in the confined space of the YT-1350’s lounge.
Let’s do this rubbish and be over with it. Lemme write what we’ve already got. Merchant from Ord Mantell, pilot and bodyguard. Right. Okay. Now – have you been participants of any of the disruptive movements on the Twin Planets – I mean here Shesharile 5 and 6 – are you sympathizers of the terrorist group known as the Rebel Alliance and are you sympathizers of the Law Legion? He narrows his eyes and gestures with his left hand saying Once we’re through this political banter we’ll just go through the standard customs questions and you’re free to go. You know, I have to do this, for the Analysis Department. – still gesturing wildly.

19 December 2005, 05:13 AM
The young Balosar keeps his friendly tone, whilst he listens to the customs officers, taking mental notes on what the human is saying and finding it quite interesting how rim worlds always seem to give grand sounding titles to there backwater militias, though of course he does not say so openly, before answering the questions.

“No, we all find this, so called “Rebel Alliance” rather disturbing, nothing but a band of pirates that endanger free trade in the empire and fanatics that only get innocent bystanders killed. As for the law legion,” scratches his chin trying to remember if he ever heard about such a group. “I don’t think any of use ever heard of something like that, right?”, taking a look at the two other mercs.

19 December 2005, 10:29 AM
Roek shakes his head once at Eboran's statement. Never heard of the Law Legion. That rebel group doesn't have a chance of surviving, though.

20 December 2005, 11:55 AM
Shanesh shrugs at the Lieutenant's questions, "This is the first time I've been here, so I don't know anything about these 'disruptive movements' or Law Legion. As for the Rebels, I'm just trying to make a living and thats a lot easier when you don't have Imperials shooting at you."

27 December 2005, 01:28 AM
Lt. Denco nods in approval several times, quickly putting it down in his datapad, then looks up at you, and his eyes glare with joy – It’s always a pleasure when you’ve got intelligent beings, – then turning to the soldier – right? .
Oh, yes, sir. – says he in response, his lips curving into a somewhat mischievous smile.
Good, good. Now the standard rubbish, if you don’t mind – Reneck continues with the usual string of questions you’d expect from a customs official. Cargo manifests, last servicing, your route, any pirate activity (none to your knowledge), and the rest of the boring, routine, stuff. At one point, he takes out his comlink, listens to something and then replies quietly.
After a while, the soldiers are finished, and so is Lt. Denco. He only asks whether you need help with the hyperdrive and orders you to leave some things at the ship, warning not to try to take them out of the bay, as that would trigger an alarm and a whole bunch of the Order Brigades would be coming for you. So, Shanesh’s Firelance and Vibrorapier stay, as does Roek’s Carbine. Strangely enough – at least for Eboran – they don’t request the DL-44 to be left at the ship.
When you go outside, the rain had already stopped, and the light of dawn descended on the surface – with rays of light breaking through the clouds and carving out the shapes of nearby building from the darkness.
Leaving the bay, Lt. Denco farewells you with these words: Now, be good visitors, don’t do anything stupid. Don’t let me, nor my brother, catch you, you understand? After a short while of staring into you with his unnerving gaze, he adds You’ve got the spaceport building there – pay the docking fees and you’ll receive your visitors’ permits.

You find yourself in an alley running between the landing bays, an alley relatively filled with various aliens. The alley is weakly lit by pale green permalamps placed at human elbow height, but the rising sun begins to cleave the shadows off the roofs and to push the shadows down. Some cargo carts move slowly through the groups of beings, irritated drivers shouting and gesturing to keep their momentum. On your right you see the imposing main spaceport building – where all the offices are, where you can pay those docking fees. It’s at least fifty metres high, looking like a dark obelisk with the brightly lit background of the sky, light peeling off sheets of black from the edges of the building. Red position lights on radio masts blink from time to time.
Nearby you see two Nikto standing by a vending droid, discussing something, not paying attention to the droid, who meanwhile went into stand-by mode. For a brief second you make out an Arconinan family, with – presumably – the father scolding a pair of Arconian youngsters. A silent Ithorian stands beside them, motionless. They are then covered from your sight by two extremely well-built, wearing synth-leather jumpsuits Humans and an equally muscular Trandoshan as they stop by an information terminal. You begin to wonder how you are going to find ‘a Dr. Gast’ among all these beings, when a absent-minded looking Snivvian female bumps into Roek.

27 December 2005, 06:00 AM
Eboran takes a look at Snivvian and tries to spot if she tried to pick pocket Roek, whilst putting his recording rod away, with which he was taking a few pictures for his treasure hunter journal.

27 December 2005, 02:20 PM
As far as Eboran can tell, the Snivvian didn't take anything from Roek, as she immediately raises her hands up - empty. She then swiftly produces a small, yellowish multi-translator and says something in her tongue, which the device interprets in a lifeless, mechanical voice as Sorry very me am, sorry very. Unmeant it, sorry very.
The Snivvian seems to be perhaps slightly scared by the whole situation, and her eyes go wide as she looks at Roek's and Shanesh's appearance.
An off-world looking man grumbles, passing you and gazing at your group, followed by an alien looking protocol droid. The droid is on its last legs - the servomotors whirr very loudly, screaming for maintenance, and the droid clearly lags behind the man.

2 January 2006, 06:32 AM
„No harm done as it seems, you couldn’t by any chance direct us to the next tourist information terminal?” replies Eboran, studying the Alien some more with a friendly expression.

4 January 2006, 08:45 AM
Roek glares threateningly at the small Snivvian, but with no intent to cause any harm, just to make her feel a little unconformatable, maybe leading her to tell them something of use.

4 January 2006, 08:33 PM
Shanesh lowers his head into a short bow to the snivvian saying, "No harm," and touching his fingers together in front of him.

7 January 2006, 01:34 PM
Still slightly shaken, the Snivvian takes a step back, eyes wide, observing. Upon noticing Roek's gaze, her eyes dart to the muscular trio nearby - and you don't even want to know her thoughts at that moment. But seeing both Eboran's and Shanesh's performance, she calms down, and there is even a slight trace of a smile on her face. At least you'd think it's a smile.
Tourist wisdom place within spaceship building - her hand showing in the general direction of the spaceport building.
Going I am now, time have not. - the translator speaks once more, the Snivvian starting on her way again.
Suddenly, the characteristic roar of ion engines ripples the air above you, as a pair of TIE Fighters thunders over the vessels nestled in the docking bays.
The Nikto step back from the droid, with the grumbling man stopping in front of it, inquiring about something. The Nikto then start to walk toward the spaceport building, pushing by a slow moving mixed group of Bith and Caamasi.
You guess your best choice would be to do likewise.

8 January 2006, 07:41 AM
„This world just keeps getting stranger and stranger,“ mumbles Eboran to himself as he follows the path the Nikto has cleared and takes a closer look at the Caamasi whilst walking, since they are one of the rarer races in the galaxy, these days.

9 January 2006, 11:33 PM
Shanesh bows slightly to the Snivvian, "Many thanks." As they head to the spaceport, he takes a glance at the TIE fighters and nods to the Nikto, "Someone's in a hurry. Should we catch up and find out why?"

10 January 2006, 12:47 AM
„Your sure that would not be more trouble than it is worth? He could be Hutt merc, or something like it, not that I like the Hutts, but messing with them gets you into trouble real quick,” answers Eboran relatively quietly, though he is pretty sure no one really cares about the little group and what they are talking about.

10 January 2006, 11:38 PM
You approach the mixed group of Biths and Caamasi, and are forced to decrease your pace. The two Nikto you have noticed, on the other hand, have already pushed through the group and are nearing the slid doors of the spaceport. The doors seem to be blocked in the open position, and you see the air tremble above them, as warm air from inside escapes to the outside.
Trailing behind the visitors - who all seem to be adorned in flowing ceremonial robes, you cannot help but to overhear bits of their conversation...
...truly. And I did go to Ryloth after that. Strange as it may seem - especially so if you paid attention to the parlance he was employing in conversation with me - I found it to belong to the aforementioned category. So, disregarding this peculiar adherence to their place of origin is not exactly a valid approach. You will agree that...
... cannot be emphasised enough that we should strive to achieve the general awarness to the utmost! Ne'ertheless ...
Ah, certainly that I should think so! The ubiquity of the system is consolidating in terms of galactic stability, but - as you will have seen - devastating when it comes to local culture. I say this not just because I am ...

You approach the entrance of the spaceport, seeing that the building is located at the centre of a half of circle, with each passage containing docking bays being as if a spoke in a wheel, with only one direction of exit possible. The monument of the building.
You notice that the inside of the spaceport is rather filled with various beings - into which crowd the two Nikto disappear. And after a short while, so do you, finding yourself in a huge hall filled with the loud hum that is inherent in large crowds of beings, each going about in its own business. The inside of the building is a large central level with platforms leading to the underground part - where, according to the various plaques and boards, small business vendors are located, and lifts allowing access to the five levels above. A loudspeaker speaks in a distinctive voice, giving information to the passangers of the various liner ships. But mostly, it's humans who are dressed in this peculiar local way, so you guess it's the people who move goods between the Twin Planets. You also notice several patrols of pairs of Order Brigade soldiers. As well as an Imperial officer talking with four Order Brigade officers.
The check-in is in front of you, heavily guarded.

11 January 2006, 08:54 PM
Originally posted by Garan
„but messing with them gets you into trouble real quick,”

Shanesh pulls his head away and, being equally quiet, says, "This coming from a man who deals with royalty..."

Originally posted by plinick1944
As well as an Imperial officer talking with four Order Brigade officers.
The check-in is in front of you, heavily guarded.

Shanesh motions to the check-in, "Maybe one of you guys should take care of this. We all know how Imperials treat non-humans."

14 January 2006, 01:12 AM
„Not like I am all to human looking, you know?“, answers Eboran whilst he withdraws his antenna into his hair and keeps walking casually towards the direction of the next tourist information terminal indicated.

17 January 2006, 11:08 PM
You pass the gate without trouble, but with some questions. And it's not just the spaceport officer asking you what bay you are docked in. It's the spaceport officer telling you that your docking fee has already been paid. For two days ahead. It's the Imperial officer visibly scrutinizing you, but not asking about Shanesh - even pretending not to know what race Eboran is. It's the smile that creeps up on the lips of the spaceport officer when he looks up the information that Lt. Denco was responsible for your customs.
Then, when you're through and on the other side, there's more.
A boy - a small, shabbily dressed human kid with those big, black eyes - comes up to you and tells you that an airspeeder is waiting for you outside. One of them luxury ones, beige.
Also, it's the way the the Order Brigades officer looks at you briefly, speaking into a comlink, then quickly shifting his eyes from you when Roek notices him.

23 January 2006, 07:55 AM
Eboran heads straight for the tourist terminal and makes a local infonet search for a Doctor Gast limited to people living, or working in the capital city of the planet.

23 January 2006, 11:54 AM
After passing the check out with an undescribed feeling of unease, Eboran somehow absent-mindendly excuses his fellow adventurers, gaze fixed on an Infonet terminal, a thought forming in his head... Quickly he passes an exhasperated looking woman and activates the terminal, slipping in the required Imp creds. The screen becomes alive with a dim glare, some commercials flash through it then the query window appears. Trying to be focused on the task at hand, despite the hum of talking beings filling the building, his hands quickly ellicit answers. At least, some answer.

Twin Planets Information Service - Sh5 Dpt
Hello guest! You are currently not logged in. Log in?

Search results for: __Doctor_Gast___
* Living beings only.
* Residents of: _Gallisport_ AND/OR
* Working in: _Gallisport_

Please wait while your query is being processed.

Then the terminal hums a little and the screen displays:

Twin Planets Information Service - Sh5 Dpt
Hello guest! You are currently not logged in. Log in?

Search results for: __Doctor_Gast___
+ Dr E Gast
+ X-B Dr F Gast, esq.
+ Dr L Gast
+ Dr V Gast
Visitor Database List.
+ Dr Z Gast


Then you exit into the plaza in front of the spaceport, with most of the buildings here looking new, but a little greasy with pollution. Some speeders move slowly in front of the spaceport, most of them taxis picking up passengers. A tank is standing on the left corner of the plaza, it's crew eating their morning meal, seated on the hull.
And then there's the beige speeder. Looks like a Mobquet - not the A-1, though. Its windscreens are darkened and glisten in the rising sun.

25 January 2006, 07:33 PM
Shanesh looks at the old speeder and shrugs to his comrades. Glancing at the tank, he shakes his head, "Great. Looks like we're practically here under martial law conditions. I've got a bad feeling about this..."

28 January 2006, 09:33 AM
Shanesh's comment is echoed only by his companions' silent looks. It seems as if the words 'martial law' conjured this grave mood. But then again, the bandaged being only voiced what all three felt as clear by now. Yes... indeed, all those small elements began to drop into their places - and like he said: it was a promise of bad things to happen. But then again, you didn't exactly expect an Ortolan cocktail party.

Given the circumstances, the front passenger door of the airspeeder opening and sliding to the front, revealing a human, female, silhouette beckoning you in, doesn't really dispel your worries. On the contrary, the rather concerned voice urging you in just fuels your anxiety.

29 January 2006, 03:07 AM
„At least the company seems nice looking“. Considers it for a few moments and then walks up to the speeder. “Would you happen to be our reception committee?”

29 January 2006, 10:54 AM
A stunning long-haired blonde leant in the direction of the open door from behind the steering controls, looking up into Eboran's eyes. Stunning, that's what she was.
I happen do be precisely that. Now, if you wouldn't mind - we're running slightly behind schedule, and the Duke won't abide waiting...
You hear the engine start up and whisper silently, sending little vibrations through the chassis.

30 January 2006, 12:29 AM
Shoves the naughty fantasies that start to arise to the back of his head, before he takes another look at her. “well, it would be our greatest pleasure, but you haven’t mentioned the code word yet…”. He gets ready to run, should she really come up with one, as there wasn’t a codeword agreed upon and a person send by the Duke should know that.

2 February 2006, 12:19 AM
After a while of silent looking at you she says - Ah, paying attention to the little details, aren’t you? – and she smiles a charming smile, turning her head to look out through the front window, at a small woman carrying two large suitcases packed to the limits of their capacity – Good, I like that. I like people paying attention to the details… Well, as to your question – I don’t know about passwords, but you might be interested to know that if you were looking for – here she speaks with a funny emphasis – a Dr Gast , you need not look any further. I am doctor Gast. Zey Gast, a pleasure to meet you… You must be… – looking at Eboran – Mr. Ekim? Roek Ekim? She ends in a note of uncertainty, still looking at Eboran, her eyes fixed on his.

4 February 2006, 12:15 PM
Eboran points at Roek. “Pleasure to meet you as well, but that would be the man your looking for.”

6 February 2006, 12:22 PM
Roek extended his large hand to the lovely doctor and put on his most charming smile, which wasn't much.
Dr. Gast, my name is Roek Ekim. What could I do for you?
Roek decided to leave any thoughts he had about the good doc in the back of his mind...