[PbP] Perlemian Interception IC

The Brayster

STAR WARS
AGE OF REBELLION

The galaxy is embroiled in a bitter civil war. Above the remote planet of Remduba II, an aging orbital platform may hold the key to striking a painful blow against the GALACTIC EMPIRE. Captured data reveals that the mysterious PERLEMIAN HAUL, and Imperial convoy filled with valuable information and powerful weapons, must stop there to refuel.

Now, a strike force of REBEL agents approach the station. Their goal: infiltrate the station, board one of the convoy's freighters, and commandeer it.

Aboard a stolen shuttle, the group approaches the remote world of Remduba II in the Outer Rim. A few days prior, each member of the group had received a private transmission from one Volar Odias, a slicer of some importance among the command structure of the Rebel Alliance. The transmission was as follows:

"I sorely hope this transmission reaches you in time. I am aware that you and your cohort have already been assigned to a posting, but the timing of your transfer has presented us with a unique opportunity, and you are my only hope for seeing it through. Long have there been rumours of an Imperial Convoy operating in this sector carrying some VERY valuable cargo, however, my superiors and colleagues do not believe me. But I KNOW. They have eluded me thus far as this isn't your typical Imperial Convoy, Star Destroyer escort and all. They operate much more low-key, sometimes as mercenaries, sometimes as Hutt Cartel. Trustworthy sources have confirmed for me that a convoy, likely the same one I've been attempting to track, is due to make a short stop at Martle Station, above Remduba II. You are the only ones in a position to get there in time. I'm aware this may seem daunting, but I have faith in your talents.

I have arranged for transport to get you to the station, along with forged ID that should hold up under what is reported to be quite lax scrutiny from station officials. Your target is Freighter M226. You are to infiltrate the station under the guise of imperial merchants and commandeer the vessel and its cargo. I have an informant in place already, a Trandoshan going by the name of Passk. He should be able to assist you once you are inside"


From the front view of the shuttle, you already have eyes on Remduba II. Remduba II is a cold, grey world with nothing but microbial life and deep core mining operations. Its companion, Martle Station, is hospitable only by comparison. An aging orbital platform with a small Imperial garrison, a squadron of TIE fighters, and bored and corrupt officials, its security should prove to be fairly lax.

As you approach, you receive a transmission from station control:

"Shuttle 201-7, we have you on our scopes. Please relay your business in Martle Station space and transmit your identification".

Brody

"Psssst... Tell them we're from Igdjyll Trading and Associates." Soren might have considered responding himself, but felt it was probably better if he didn't touch anything in the cockpit.

discrider

Brot attempts, rather unsuccessfully, to hide his huge rolling eyes; his pained expression being reminiscent of a swirling half-filled fishbowl.
Flicking a few switches, he tunes the radio to the station's broadcast frequency, before passing the mouthpiece backwards to Soren.
"You should tell them yourself", he gurgles to Soren, "I'm not sure how many of my kind come past here."

And with that, he refocuses his attention back to the docking procedures, and readying the ship's identification transmission.

Brody

"... Greetings Martle Station, this shuttle 201-7, flying for Igdjyll Trading and Associates. We're here to look into contracts for running product. My pilot should be sending you our identification shortly."

The Brayster

There is a brief pause over comms before a rather bored voice calls back:

"Roger that, you're cleared for Docking Bay 3. Please be advised that while you may be paying a visit to the Outer Rim on business of your own, Imperial Law is still very much in effect. Governor Varla Prule is acting head of security on Station. Please be advised that Hangars 12 through 15 are in a state of lockdown, their level may not be accessed by civilians at this time".

With that the comms cut out, and there appear to be no more obstacles to your landing.

The Brayster

The party disembarks after landing in Docking Bay 3 as instructed. Even before leaving the hangar it is clear that this particular port of call, while certainly out of the way, is still very busy. Leaving the hangar, the smell of oil and hot metal is replaced by a strange mixture of scents; Food, spices, cleaning products, whatever stench was being exhibited by the plethora of bodies crammed onto the walkways, both human and alien.

A message to the population is played on loop: "Citizens are reminded that Hangars 12 through 15 are locked down. No citizens are to be found loitering in this area". Even on the populated levels, Imperial Navy Troopers can be seen shepherding the crowds away from certain turbolifts and passageways.

discrider

Brot scans the diverted crowds as he descends into the hanger.
"If I were an Imperial convoy with important cargo, I'd probably be locking down my entire level too", burbling under his breath.
"Anyway, should we find this Passk? Perhaps he can tell us more about what's going on"

Denada

Cal fiddles with the commlink in his pocket as he scans the area, wary of the military presence even though he was expecting it. "Agreed. Let's find Passk. No sense stirring up trouble before we know where we're going."

Moridin889

Clanking loudly as he plods through the crowds, P41-N3 ignores the masses as they bustle about. "Prassk designated as primary target. Location unknown. Advise visiting local information distributor for further directions" Setting off towards the nearest cantina his gait is slow, but direct. Anyone that didn't move before him would be brushed aside.

Skiddles

Oren steps out of the ship looking every bit the interested kid, On his back is a Lieutenant Erikson* backpack, with an oversized t-shirt stretched over his bulkier clothes underneath reading "Space is the place".

Oren scans the crowd as he strolls along after the others, paying extra attention to visible weapons on the guards. If there's any trouble, he wants to know what kind of resistance he'll be facing...

*Imperial propoganda show for kids

Brody

Following the rest of the crew off of the shuttle, Soren's immediate thought is to not blow the agents cover.

"Did we get any contact info for Passk. Don't want to too obvious asking around."

discrider

"I don't think asking around for Passk is illegal.
We'd have bigger problems than loading our cargo if Passk has gotten on the wrong side of some Imperials such that it's suspicious to even look for him"

Brot continues to scan the passing stores in the hopes of locating their mark:
Geth roll 4eA+1eD for Knowledge Underworld

Knowledge Underworld:

4eA+1eD 4 successes, 1 advantage [4eA=S/S, S/A, S, A] [1eD=Th]

discrider

"Hold up guys, we want to go this way"

The Brayster

As the group wanders towards the station cantina, they stumble upon a small side street with a little more traffic than the rest of the walkways thus far. The reason for this is that this area appears to be dedicated to low rate shops and stores, a sort of shopping district for those merchants who aren't wealthy enough to afford the inflated rental rates in the more central areas of the station.

A short trip down this area allows you to catch a glimpse of a tacky, neon sign, half falling off the wall, 'PASSK'S ODDITIES'. The door is dimly lit by the light from the sign above, and across it you can just about make out some kind of alien markings - scratched in post-installation, it would seem.

As the door slides open on a squeaky track, a melodic chime can be heard. The smell of old paper and dust fills your nostrils as you are confronted with the countless shelves stacked with all manner of junk. As your eyes adjust to the darkness, you see a somewhat short and middle aged Trandoshan approaching you.

With a smile, he says "Welcome to Passk's Oddities, my friends. What can Passk do for you on this fine day?"

Brody

With a quick glance around to make sure the store is empty, Soren throws on a quick smile. "It is quite fine, isn't it? My friends and I were looking for information, and have heard you might be able to help us."

The Brayster

You are met with a broad, toothy grin.

"Information eh?"

His eyes slant narrow, as he tilts his head in towards you.

"That would depend on the kind of information you're looking for. As well as just who is asking?"

Brody

"Odias told us the Imperials had a package for him, and asked if we could swing by and pick it up."

Leaning in conspiritorially, Soren lowers his voice theatrically.

"Strictly speaking, the package isn't for us, but we figured we would help the Imperials. They've got so much to worry about already, might as well take some of it off their hands."

The Brayster

A forked tongue flickers between the teeth of the Trandoshan.

"So, you are Rebellion then?"

His eyes quickly jump between Soren and the door.

"You must be referring to that sneak, Volar. Passk and Volar do have some... mutual feelings about the Empire".

He raises his eyes to the doorway once again, before continuing.

"So you want whatever it is that is docking in those closed hangars? Passk knows of this. But how does Passk benefit? Passk puts himself in danger even speaking with you!"

Moridin889

P41-N3 scans the shop for unusual readings at the mention of danger, before settling back on Paask his cannon hump noticeably aimed in the Trandoshans direction. "No danger detected. Proceed."

discrider

Stepping between the droid and Passk, the slight mariner speaks up:
"Perhaps you could suggest how we could make a fair trade for the information, and we could negotiate from there?
Alternatively, perhaps we might be able to split some of our retrieved goods with you? Albeit perhaps via some courier, if we have to leave this rock abruptly."

Skiddles

Oren leans against the outside doorway looking bored (while making sure nobody is listening into the conversation). Turning his head back a moment towards the inside, he said to nobody in particular:

"Interesting tactics there. 'I really hate those guys, but what's in it for me if you burn them' isn't what I was expecting to hear as a negotiation starter..."

discrider

Geth roll 2eA+1eB+1eD+1eP for Cool Obligation

Cool Obligation:

2eA+1eB+1eD+1eP 3 successes, 3 advantage, 1 Triumph [2eA=S/S, A] [1eB=A/A] [1eD=-] [1eP=Tr]

The Brayster

Passk recoils from Orens' remark, putting on a slightly exaggerated face of being offended.

"Passk merely worries for his future! Passk must make a living! Very hard to do from inside an Imperial Cell!"

The Trandoshan turns his gaze back to Brot and continues.

"Very well, Passk can help you, if you can help Passk"

Passk raises a hand and begs a moment, before disappearing behind a low alcove in the back of the store. The rustling and clanking of assorted junk lasts several minutes before he returns with a few bundles of clothing, which he unfurls on the counter and reveals to be Imperial Navy Uniforms.

"These will help you get in to wherever you need to go..."

The Trandoshan briefly looks up at P41-N3.

"Sorry friend... they... don't make your size?"

Passk coughs before returning his focus to the matter at hand, leaning down on the counter with his elbow.

"These will also help you.... to help me. The governess of this platform, Varla Prule, she is new. She looks at the likes of Passk with disfavor. Passk and his kind have too many scales for her, methinks. She would see Passk gone if given the chance".

He pushes the uniforms towards the group and points a single talon upwards.

"Up above is the Governors level. Only uniforms up there. Passk needs you to access the database, find something to humble Ms Prule should she... get aggressive. You might even find some useful information for yourselves"

discrider

Brot's lip curls slightly.
Yessssss. Some Calimari slave girl shots, a shot of the new Governor, a bit of picture editing, a title something along the lines of "Tuna Sandwich" and a quick upload to PornHub.

Shaking his head
No. Humans are too crass. It would probably be praised as an expression of power.
After all, that's how they cornered the interstellar smut market; by being completely unabashed at it all.

Brody

"You just had to have turtle heads, didn't you?"

With a bit of a sneer, Soren grabs one of the uniforms and moves farther into the shop to change. Unfortunately, he knows exactly how these uniforms are supposed to be worn, and doesnt really care for the memory they present.

As he moves back over, he remembers the more ethnic members of the party. "You don't happen to have a Weapons Technician helmet or two, do you?"

Denada

Cal unceremoniously changes into one of the uniforms, then rejoins the group. "How did... no, nevermind. Probably better not to know. I'm sure this stain is just some pi'zzek sauce or... something."

Skiddles

Oren makes his way into the back, and when he's far enough away from the entrance says excitedly: "Some sort of helmets would be good. Although I've always wanted to get handcuffed and taken in as a dangerous prisoner, only to throw off my cuffs and blow some guards away...We could do that instead!"

discrider

Brot finishes donning his own uniform.

"I didn't expect to be back in one of these so soon."

He however elects to wear his old Imperial flight gloves rather than the ones that came with the uniform.
After all, they're all shades of the same jet black.

"What should we do about our droid? Just spray paint an Imperial symbol on him?"

Moridin889

It was at this time the droid wished he had some sort of emotive face to glower at Brot. "Mining colony. Mining droid. No issue"

discrider

"Maybe a fake control bolt then?
I don't know, I just wouldn't think a mining droid would be expected around the officer headquarters."

The Brayster

Passk gives a curt smile as each member of the group emerges in their uniform.

"Why, if Passk didn't know any better, Passk would thing he was having a snap inspection"

Passk lets out a slight growl that can only be interpreted as a short laugh.

"You all have some ID that I have stolen and re-manufactured. They'll get you access to anywhere a real Navy Trooper would, but I maybe wouldn't submit them for close inspection"

Brody

"Works for me, you boys ready to roll?"

Making sure his holdout blaster is secured and out of sight, Soren gets ready to move back into the station proper, in an Imperial uniform for the first time since he dropped out of the Academy.

discrider

"Well... what's the plan here?
Do we just walk around upstairs, find a convenient terminal and hope that Prule has something compromising on the general servers, or do we need to find out where her quarters or office are?"
Shifting nervously, Brot continues:
"I think we'd stick out like a sore thumb if we start walking around up there asking for directions to Prule's quarters."

discrider

"Although I can't think that information would be terribly secret.
Perhaps there's a general data terminal somewhere where we can lookup Prule's quarters before we go up into the Imperial level?"

Skiddles

"Recon sounds like a great idea. Anyone good with computers want to go digging?"

Denada

"So, governor's level then? Let's get a move on and use a terminal up there."

The Brayster

Leaving Passk's Oddities, the group had little issue accessing a nearby turbolift, which they are waved into by the stationed officers without so much as a second glance. After a brief pause, the lift carries you ever higher at a speed that is almost a little disconcerting. Eventually the group reaches the governors level with what can only be described as a SLAM.

Exiting the lift, you immediately notice a stark contrast to the levels below. Where below the walkways would be invisible behind the masses of bodies that formed in the market sector, here there were only the occasional 2-4 man patrol marching back and forth. Where below you were deafened by the calls, cries and chatter of the masses, here the silence is almost deafening, not counting the occasional pass-by of a well polished pair of boots.

It doesn't take long to work out where the main administration centre was located - a giant, round fortress of an observation platform forming the centre of the space station. In all likelihood, there would be thousands of individuals working in there, managing all aspects of station life, as well as the coming and going of all of its patrons.

At the main entrance stands an Officer behind an access desk with two well armed Stormtroopers in his company.

Brody

Stepping up to the access desk, face kept a perfect mask of boring Imperial impassiveness, Soren gives the man behind the desk a slight nod.

"Unit #(I totally used to be Imperial, so I probably know what would go here), bringing this droid in for 'questioning'." On the last word the boring mask cracks a little, with a bit of an upturn at the corners of his mouth. I mean, who doesn't love cutting droids to tiny little bits.

The Brayster

"Another analysis and memory wipe huh?"

The eyes of the bored official widen a little looking up at the droid.

"What... where did you find that thing, exactly?"

Moridin889

Towering above the official, P31-N3 responds "Mining droid. From mines" Bureaucrats with no idea whats going on. Welcome to the Empire

Brody

"We have rumors of Rebel activity down on the surface, maybe laying the groundwork for sabotage. This droid was in the area, and someone decided to take a look at its memory."