Run to the Rim (A Vance Bros. Adventure)
This is from actual play (filled in with my own creative license, as my notes are not so good), starting from around the same time as the fic "Cold Morning" was begun.
Chapter I: An Indecent ProposalThe Characters:
Captain Calo Vance: lord and master of the freighter Lazy Rider, crack shot and indomitable Wit.
Zac Vance: Pilot, brawler and aficionado of barroom decoration.
Cole: The Kid. No more, no less baby.
Doctor Cahlil: Overeducated yet nonetheless highly suggestible alien of unknown species,
Major NPCs:
Argos: Highly mysterious man, plot device.
The Zeeze: Delusional manservant-bot.
Cue-Nine: Unappreciated droid; only crewmember qualified to fix hyperdrive (often forgotten point).
Galena’s contacts looked every bit the typical hyper-idealistic “freedom fighters” that the cynical fringe community heaped abuse on in their off-hours: Young, upbeat young adults with long hair and thrift-shop bought Republic-era apparel. Hell, the boy had an earring, of all things.
They were probably brother and sister, Calo decided as he appraised the two of them: the boy was perhaps eighteen, with dark curly hair and big brown eyes that complimented a lean and athletic frame (All the better to recruit you with, my pretties, Calo thought with disgust), while the girl was a year or two younger. Her hair was much fairer, but they shared a certain similarity about the face and both were built the same way. Cole kept his eyes firmly fixed on the grubby turf of the spacer’s dive rather than make eye contact with their new female acquaintance.
Technically, Galena’s contact had been the bartender—a grizzled old Mon Calamari—but the fish-man had directed them to a back booth where sat the two youths.
“So…” Zac ventured before trailing off.
“We were told that you desired to help in The Struggle,” the young man started, his enthusiasm only barely concealed.
“You were misinformed,” Calo replied flatly.
“Then what are you here for?” the girl countered with a hint of bitterness—things were not starting out well if half of their would-be contacts took a dislike to them.
“We require your assistance… and we were told that you might be interested in our services in the form of payment,” Calo explained, remaining calm and polite in the face of a possible downturn of mutual respect.
“I see. Perhaps we can help, but I need to know what it is you need of us before I can make a call,” the boy responded, also maintaining his previous, enthusiastic, countenance.
“We have a bounty that needs to go away,” Zac supplied nonchalantly.
“Ah… something on the Hutt Network, I assume?”
“Just so,” Calo nodded.
“That could be arranged. You’re in luck,” the boy smiled knowingly, which both Calo and Zac found somewhat frightening, “we have been looking for a freighter crew for a certain job in the next week. You said you were smugglers?”
Calo coughed in alarm: “Not hardly—we are independent freighter operators. Smugglers don’t congregate in the open or advertise their presence… like Rebels.”
“Point taken…” the girl smirked wickedly. Once again, Calo and Zac felt something shudder inside their stomachs.
“What is the job… and how much is it worth to you?” Zac asked, bringing the conversation to its point, finally.
“We are from Adarlon, and we need to return home in order to… pursue job opportunities in our home sector. This one has gotten a bit too… crowded,” the young man explained, carefully thinking about his phrasing as he paused.
“Adarlon? That’s way out in Wild Space!” Zac exclaimed under his breath so as not to attract too much attention from the other patrons.
“Minos Cluster,” Calo confirmed with a moan, “Half as much again in distance than Elrood down the Rimma Run.”
“Right,” the boy confirmed, “we would hitch a ride with a like-minded individual sent by our employers, but they would be thrilled to be able to task one of our few ships elsewhere.”
“Thrilled enough to call in a favor along the lines of what you need,” the girl added.
“That trip is a sixteen grand job, even with just passengers!” Zac coughed.
“And without expenses… we need fuel and other consumables for a run like that,” Calo added dourly.
“We are not entirely unreasonable—we will pay for your expenses and a reasonable amount will be provided for spending money once we arrive in Minos. Say… two thousand credits. We will also have a small amount of cargo to bring with us in addition to our personal effects; five hundred kilos or so—I wouldn’t recommend asking what it is, seeing as though you aren’t into that sort of thing.”
“And you will pass along our need to those who can accomplish it?” Calo asked.
“It can be arranged,” nodded the girl.
“Very well,” the captain nodded, “you’ve got yourself a ship.”
“Good; there may be additional work we can offer you once we get there—this time at proper wages. Think about it,” the girl added before she and her accomplice left the booth without further comment.
“Great, we have a job, but what about the kid,” Zac asked once the Rebels were gone.
Calo winced: “I had forgot about that—we need to drop him off on Eriadu.”
“It is on the way,” Zac pointed out.
“True, but we would get there a week or so early.”
“Point taken, perhaps we should take the precaution of letting the old Auntie know we’re coming. She said she’d be there earlier anyway,” Calo agreed.
“That won’t be necessary, I’m afraid.”
Calo almost jumped out of his chair; he hadn’t even noticed Argos had left, much less that he had returned at the side of the booth where Calo sat.
“Why is that?” Zac asked skeptically.
“Doctor Cahlil, would you take young Master Cole to the bar and see if they have anything to eat at this place,” Argos said calmly. The Doc blinked quizzically, but after a discrete nod from Calo, the ursine alien shrugged and complied, despite the boy’s protestations.
Once they were gone, the mysterious fellow sat in the vacated space across from the Vance brothers and pushed a recently purchased flimsiplast news flat across the battle-scarred table to Calo.
“What, ‘All Datapads and Personal Information Devices Half Off;’ are you in the market or something?” Calo asked as he glanced at the advertising heavy document.
“Below the fold, a third of the way down,” the man replied simply.
“Oh, crap…”
The indicated article was entitled “Prolific Con Captured, Convicted,” and the attached picture was clearly Cole’s mother, apparently a glamour shot from one of her business cards.
“What?” Zac asked curiously, causing Calo to spin the document to the appropriate angle. Zac cursed roughly.
“How are we going to break this to the kid?” Calo asked.
“Make The Zeeze do it?” Zac offered semi-helpfully.
“No,” interjected Argos, “you will simply have to tell him. I suspect he already knows his mother’s profession, at least had some idea. It is better just to give him the truth.”
“Easy for you to say,” countered Zac.
“Perhaps, but then, it is your responsibility no matter your choice.”
Calo crammed the paper into his pocket as Cole returned with the Doctor, bearing a basket of appetizers. The boy looked at Argos suspiciously, but sat nonetheless.
Calo’s mind stewed for a while, unable to come to a decision, and partially concerned by the fact that he could not remember Argos ever being shown any holos of Cole’s mother…
End Chapter
EDIT: Fixed a bit of metric system confusion from notes
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)...and how it was explained (by you now or the GM at the time?) that the huge, slower capital ship could get them. All too often PCs think they can simply outrun capital ships, and us GMs have to think up was for that not to be true!
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