Scoundrel's Luck

Making an Entrance
The Perimeter

From Wojo’s stream of consciousness: We continue to fly casually toward what I believe might be our impending doom. This inquisitor that Knup describes sounds pretty terrifying, and I’m not totally convinced that our storm trooper guise is gonna hold up under any kind of scrutiny. That’s why I’m relieved when Knup, who has been unusually quiet, suddenly clears his throat and announces to the party (except for Darwin) that he now has a clearer reading on the black hole of evil that he sensed earlier, and that its source is more likely inside the facility rather than somewhere along the road. Harris shows sudden interest in Knup’s ability to read the force. I hear parts of a conversation that goes something like this:

Moenia, Naboo

From Wojo’s stream of consciousness: The group decides to nix my drilling machine approach to breaking into the R&D facility and to go with a more conventional course of action. By conventional I mean boring. It goes something like this: we are to all dress up as storm troopers and drive to the facility, and I am to set off a massive remote-controlled explosion somewhere near the facility so that we can all sneak in on the opposite side while all the real storm troopers are hopefully distracted. Harris is really high on this plan, but I’m not convinced that it has any better chance of working than my idea. When you think about it, it doesn’t exactly seem fail-proof, does it? Unfortunately, Knup finally decides to join us, and he gets all excited about the whole dressing-up-as-a-storm-trooper thing, so that’s that. It’s pointless to argue with Knup about anything.

Of Dearic and Spice
The sweet smell of droid lubricant ...


Scoundrel’s Luck: The Online Group

The three of you met shortly after the funeral of Kenzi’s uncle Talan, two days ago in Dearic on Talus, one of the twin planets. So far, things have gone smoothly. The title was transferred with only a little bit of palm-greasing. The ship was in worse shape than you would have liked, but she’s together. You’re currently sharing a corner booth at the only tapcafe that doesn’t have sticky seats in the capital city. So you’re here, with a ship, and some credits to your name, and high hopes.

What Next?

From Wojo’s stream of consciousness: So we’re gonna have to drive all night to get back to the ship. Luckily I have a case of Red Bull and Arrik keeps talking my ear off. I guess he’s part of some paramilitary guardian Jedi group called the “Antarian Rangers.” Never heard of them. Probably because they’ve been on the DL every since Order 66 went into effect. Anyway, Fel got into this mess because he was sent by Kota to rescue a lady Twi’lek (!) Jedi who went against Kota’s orders and sought out some kind of R&D station here on Naboo without any backup or assistance. Fel claims that when he showed up on Naboo, everything went “pear shaped.” What the hell does that mean? What is a pear? I never get a chance to ask.

Unfortunately, thanks to his contacts, Fel just so happens to have the coordinates to this R&D facility. That means we are going to have to go there, especially since Fel seems to think that all of what’s-his-name’s stuff is there. I don’t care about any of that crap, but (Devaronian god) knows that I do have a soft spot for lady Twi’leks. So I guess I can use that for motivation. I shouldn’t be this pissy about everything, I think I’m just hungry. Baku keeps talking about some seafood place he found in Deeja that serves furry clams. These damn humans and their weird dietary needs. When we get back to the ship I’m going to have to look up “furry clams” on the holonets, because I’ve never heard of such a thing.

The SW Team

Baku Rost (Pherkad Crescentleap)’s personal log:

I’ve noticed a trend setting in when our group meets with potential employers; they hem and haw over our trustworthiness when in the end everyone knows that we are the ones that need to do the job. In fact, based on our recent performance it has struck me that our group shines in doing the jobs no one else is able to, helping out in dire situations. Our calling card might as well be: If you have a problem, if no one else can help, and if you can find them, maybe you can hire…who? That’s the problem really. One thing I remember most from Inter-Galactic Marketing 101 is that to sell your product to a potential client base you need to have a recognizable brand identity. Customers see that brand and are comforted, thinking “hey, that’s the kind of brand I’d like to purchase, invest in, and have sex with.” Hmmm. Maybe my notes for that classed got mixed with Xeno-Seduction 203. I should look over those notes again…


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0010101010101010111110001010100001010000000011110100001010100011Darwin111000001010Baku Rost (Pherkad Crescentleap)100010100101001010101000000101

  • 01010101010
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  • 101000101010101011110100010101100000101000000111101010101010
Up The Mountain
Keren to Deeja Peak

From Wojo’s stream of consciousness: We rise early the next morning to load up the Escalade with survival gear. Knup seems most concerned with the gear, I don’t think anyone else really expects us to be camping out in the wilderness for any extended period of time. I’m looking forward to getting to the Peak, storm troopers or not. They say there’s a village up there filled with hippies, but I’ll just try my best to avoid them while I go on a little site-seeing adventure. I figure I’ll have plenty of time. This little mission of ours doesn’t sound all that complicated.

Thank (Devaronian god) for the Escalade. We have to put the rear benches down for Ghall to fit in the back, but everyone else fits comfortably. Baku and Neralli ride up front in the best seats in the house, while Knup and I ride in the raised cockpit to the rear. We put the new guy in the open seat in the back, right in front of the engines. He seems like a tough guy, so I’m sure he’ll be just fine.

Searching for Fel

From Wojo’s stream of consciousness: I have a fantastic time exploring the Keren Grand Prix race course. I do the self-guided walking tour and I make sure to spend plenty of time in the museum. I am especially excited to see (legendary Devaronian swoop racer) Alba Junya Jr.’s swoop from 10 years ago when he won the points championship. That was an exciting season. Knup would be so jealous if he knew how I was spending my time here on Naboo.

After the museum I decide to do a little window shopping. I’m always looking for ways to upgrade the ship. I’m worried about the long-term integrity of some of the hull repairs we performed earlier. I’d really like to get some replacement hull panels if possible. Luckily, I find a parts dealer not far from the race course. He’s a purple Twi’lek named Keckay. I find the panels I need at his dealership, but he charges a pretty cred for them. Oh well, what choice do I have? At least I get a chance to finally use the loader droid to transport the panels back to the ship.

Arriving at Naboo

From Wojo’s stream of consciousness: Knup, Ghall, and I decide to help the human and his mon calamari friend for a reasonable price. We figure that we are already more or less on a suicide mission so we might as well complicate things further. In addition, these two individuals might prove valuable at some point, as one has medical training and the other is a computer genius. Oh, and the human claims to be rich. We are currently running low on credits.

We meet the human and the mon calamari at the agreed upon time at the Silvered Credchip. We lay down our terms and reach an agreement. We will take the two individuals to our next stop and leave them there. At that point we will work out payment. During our conversation, the mon calamari mentions that she is skilled in the art of forging documents. My interest is piqued. The Nelsa Loy is currently flying with papers forged by my own hand. I have faked a number of documents in my day but I can’t honestly claim to be an expert at such things. I hope she is as good as she claims.

New Blood

From Wojo’s stream of consciousness: We land on at a spacer port near the Northern Settlement on Tabiid. It is a fairly typical spacer port; freighters are lined up undergoing repairs, taking on fuel, cargo, and passengers, etc. We decide to go to the local cantina to “search for information.” Personally, I’d just like a drink.

The cantina is called the The Silvered Credchip. It is a low key place, and there seems to be some kind of sabacc tournament going on. No one notices us. We go up to the bar and I order a glass of Arbor Mist and check out the bartender. She is an attractive Twi’lek, and she reminds me of the girl we painted on the nose of the Nelsa Loy. I decide to try to impress her, and so I order the strongest drink in the house. She gives me a Durindfire. I can’t handle it. I choke and spit it back up. So embarrassing. Knup seems disgusted, even though I can’t read his face.


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