✎ courierservice:chapter0

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====== Prologue - Now Hiring ======
===== Scene 1 - New Marymore=====
==== Setting ====
Soundtrack: https://www.youtube.com/embed/ZiJ0fhsfDdA

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New Marymore is much like any other semi-developed city on a colonial planet.  It's a hodge-podge diversity; a myriad of alien cultures jumbled together and thrown down seemingly at random.  The diversity of lifeforms found on its bustling, dirt streets is paralleled only by the cacophony that assaults the senses at noon in the market place.  The bellow of non-basic languages.  The sight of countless species.  The aromas (some pleasant, some not) of various washed and unwashed individuals.  The feel of fabric, metal, wood, stone, and plastic, all found within easy reach of potential customers.  The tastes that repulse some while luring others.  This is High New Marymore.  The more diverse it appears, the more comfortable it feels to its denizens.  

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A short distance from the main market of New Marymore is the space port.  Here, ships of various sizes, shapes and levels of disrepair are docked.  Large transports sit next to squat rock hoppers.  There are no luxury cruisers to be seen anywhere (and why would one come to this back-water hole) but their absence is more than compensated for by the fleet of smuggling ships one could surmise is moored here.  

One ship that doesn't stand out at all is a small-ish transport with a few missing deflector plates and a fair share of mismatched parts.  The mach 2 red turbo-grav lift on the port side stands out in contrast to the rest of the body (which is mach 3 and rust-pitted blue).  The landing gear hasn't deployed quite right, but it's study enough.  When you look at it, you don't fear that it will fall over; not yet at least.  But you do wonder how many more years that mechanic will be able to hold her together.  

It's this ship that is transmitting a message:

**Wanted**

**Interplanetary courier service in need of new crew.  No experience required.  Excellent pay and bonuses.  Not dangerous work.  Very Easy. ** 

** Interested beings should fill in the following application form and report to the attached co-ordinates at noon tomorrow afternoon. ** 

----
// Possible jumping-off points: //

// - Why is your character in New Marymore? //

// - Where did you see the job posting? //

// - What is your character leaving behind to take this job?//

{{:courierservice:pasted:20170518-214610.png}}

//Planet Glossam in the Nevoota System//
----

==== Looking for an Escape ====
<WRAP rpg sean> In the back corner of a dark pub, Le'ela Turan'ga swirls the ice cubes in the bottom of her empty glass around, mesmerized by the tinkling sound they make. She is physically in the bar, but her mind is millions of light years away.  The other patrons in the pub are making noise and chatter, but all she hears are their screams...

A sudden shout causes her to look up from her glass. Two men are beginning a heated argument. She motions to the bartender who wheels over and refills her empty glass. The ice cubes bobble happily for a moment before the drink is gone.

"You can't just up and leave, we have work to do!"
"I don't want to miss an opportunity for easy money. I'm tired of being worked to the bone by you."

Le'ela gazes wearily at the two men arguing. She tosses a coin at the bartender, who beeps in thanks. As she stands up to wander the streets of New Marymore one of the men says something that catches her ears.

"You're a laborer. You aren't fit to fly in a crew. Get this pipe dream out of your head and get back to work!" The one man shoves the other towards the door, but he falls into a table of unsavory looking Zabraks, their drinks all crashing to the ground.

Le'ela steps out of The Heavy Spanner, squinting at the sudden sunlight, walking away from the bar fight as it ensues. She sees the space port a short distance away and lets her feet carry her there. Old habits die hard, it seems.

She arrives and gazes at the hustle and bustle. Everyone looks like they have somewhere to be, and no one pays much attention to her. Through the noisy crowd her ears pick up some key words and she heads towards a small, poor-looking cargo ship.

**Interplanetary courier service in need of new crew.  No experience required.  Excellent pay and bonuses.  Not dangerous work.  Very Easy. ** 

It seems like mindless work. Not at all like her previous post. But maybe that's just what she needs. Almost as though they had their own will her feet carried her to a droid standing near the ship holding a datapad...</WRAP>

... who was being accosted by a trio of Zabraks.  Their poise said 'menace' and one of them was casually wielding a dismembered droid leg, which he used like a prop.  Their voices carried on the hot wind to her.  She couldn't understand the foreign language, but the intent seemed clear.  She watched as two of them grabbed the DX unit by its' arms and forced it onto its' knees, holding it in place.  The remaining thug spoke slowly, all the while bending his metallic prop at the knee, backwards.  

A snippet of overheard conversation from the bar flowed into her memory.  

//"Frackin' droids.  Taking more and more of our jobs."//

//"Yeah, everywhere you look, there are tin heaps running around like the own the place."//

//"Damn straight.  The other night, me and Cliff found one trying to make a delivery or something from a store.  Let's just say, the goods never made it."//

//"Yeah, the only thing a bot is good for is target practice!  Thought we learned that back during the Clone Wars."//

<WRAP rpg sean>Le'ela's blood began to boil. She thought back to those dark days and the many comrades she fought beside. So many lives lost so many good soldiers taken down. And many droids too. Some of the finest marksmen and soldiers she knew were droids. Soldiers and friends.</WRAP>

The sound of snapping and popping brings Le'ela out of her reverie.  The droid leg that the Zabrak was folding in half suddenly began to fall apart as the springs and bolts that held it together begin tumbling and flying out of place.  He then takes the two halves and tosses them on the ground in front of the kneeling droid, then spits.  The DX unit continues to look up at the Zabrak with unreadable eyes.

<WRAP rpg sean>She can take no more. Le'ela takes a moment to size up the trio of Zabraks, and makes a plan. In an instant she flies towards one of them, taking him down before anyone knows what's happening. Stunned momentarily, the other two raise their weapons and prepare to fire. But Le'ela gets the jump on one. She rushes into his chest, the gun falling from his hands. She kicks the gun away and leaps towards him, but he recovers from the attack quickly. He raises his leg and kicks Le'ela square in the ribs. She falls to the ground, staggering quickly to her feet.

The Zabrak chuckles loudly, turns his head and spits in the dirt. "You're going to have to do better than that, Caamasi." He snarls at Le'ela, his eyes aflame. The corners of Le'ela's mouth curl up in a grin. "You haven't seen anything yet," she says meanacingly.

She raises her hand towards him, and presses a round button on the back of her glove. It begins to wind up, blue sparks arc across her fingers. The Zabrak starts, surprised by the unexpected new danger. Le'ela senses his hesitation and pounces, leaping towards him in a flash. He steps back, but not quickly enough to dodge her punch. Her shock glove lands on his shoulder, and with a burst of light and smoke the Zabrak flies backwards, slamming into a wall. He slumps to the ground.

The smoke clears around Le'ela, she stands there panting. She spins around to face the third and stops dead. She finds herself face to face with the Zabrak's gun."That's enough of that," he jeers. "Put your hands up, Caamasi."

Le'ela does as she's told, slowly raising her hands towards the sky. She takes a step backwards and says to the Zabrak, "I don't want any more trouble."

"It's a little late for that, wouldn't you say?" he barks, gesturing to his fallen comrades. He raises his weapon and takes aim. "Any last words?"

Le'ela shakes her head. "Only,sorry about this."

She spreads the fingers on both hands wide, activating a trigger in her gloves. Tiny electrodes shoot out from each of her fingers, pulling a thin filament behind them, several of them striking the confused looking Zabrak. Le'ela activates her gloves once more, and the blue sparks flew down the filaments and zapped the Zabrak who collapsed to the ground. </WRAP>

<WRAP rpg alan>The DX unit looked at Le'ela. "Are you here about the job?"  </WRAP>

<WRAP rpg sean>Le'ela is about to shake her head, when she hesitates.  Without knowing why, she nods her head.  Five minutes later she's signing her name to a dataform.  Looking back on that moment, she wouldn't be able to tell you why took the job.  It was just something she knew she needed to do.

Le'ela then climbed the ramp into the loading bay.  It was only a couple minutes until noon and she was famished. </WRAP>

----
==== Looking for Another Quick Getaway ====

<WRAP rpg kyle>Barrett and T1-NY dash around the alley corner, a market stall crashing to the ground behind them. Poultry and fruit scatter, gruff curses are not far off. Another few turns and the sounds of the angry yells behind them fade into the background of High New Marymore's space port.

“Alright, little buddy, I think we've outstayed our welcome here.” Barrett pats T1-NY's head. “I managed 68 credits, how did you do?”</WRAP> <WRAP rpg kyle oc> rolled 1d100 for starting pocket change</WRAP>

<WRAP rpg richard><<A measly 29... not even enough to hire a disreputable Trandoshan henchbeing for an hour. I would have done better if SOMEBODY hadn't decided to make our next mark a bunch of yokels who blew all their creds at the Synthehol Social the day before.>> Somehow, T1-NY’ s electronic “eye” manages to convey the sense of a sarcastic eye roll.</WRAP>

<WRAP rpg kyle>Barrett ducks his head briefly inside a duty-free shop to check a chronometer. “Almost noon. Maybe we should see if we can catch a ride out of here. I don't think we have much time before the nerfherder's guild realizes which direction we took.”</WRAP>

<WRAP rpg Richard>T1NY blurps and bleeps at the Zeltron. <<What about that loaded mark from yesterday who wanted some 'biological business' with you? She's not going to be happy about your unfulfilled contract.>> </WRAP>

<WRAP rpg kyle>“Oh. Right. The Banker's daughter. She'll be fine.” He shifts uneasily. “Let's find a star ship.”</WRAP>

<WRAP rpg richard>T1-NY skids off, leading the way to a questionable-looking ship, and re-broadcasts its wanted ad to Barrett, beeping approvingly.</WRAP>

<WRAP rpg alan oc>Because he's a droid, T1-NY would recognize that DX30 is a license holder of a United Droid Transfer Service franchise (UDTS) which is one of many fronts operated under the protection of the Steel Clan.  (Think "Droid Mafia".)  All droids know not to mess with the Steel Clan.  Many people know that too.  Many people, but not all people.  Yet.  </WRAP>

<WRAP rpg richard> <<Doubt they'd think to look for us here... the owner sounds like a rube too, easy money either way!>> 

T1-NY chortles eagerly, rattling the few credits tucked away in his chassis and turning his head back & forth between Barrett & the ship. The boarding ramp is down, open and waiting. </WRAP>

<WRAP rpg kyle>Barrett shakes his head. “This doesn't smell right. I bet you anything that...” He cuts off as a familiar shouting gets louder from the direction of the merchant district. “You know what, I think it's a great idea. What could possibly go wrong – it's Very Easy, Not Dangerous Work!”

He nervously laughs as T1-NY blurts out an electronic snort, and they quickly approach the ship before the mob arrives, noting 3 inert Zabraks lying nearby.</WRAP>

<WRAP rpg alan>DX30 is on the loading ramp of the ship, taking notes on a datapad when xe sees the two begin up the ramp.  Xe notes that they seem to be in hurry.  Which is excellent.  Xe loves folks who are enthusiastic about work!  Xe hurries to meet them before they can enter the ship, and gives them a warm, hearty greeting.  Xe then fires up xyrs small-talk protocol, commenting on the weather, local sports teams, and complaining about taxes.  Xe then offers to show them around the exterior of the ship. </WRAP>
<WRAP rpg alan oc>DX30 is a robot, so technically, gender neutral, so I figured I might as well refer to it as xe rather he/she.  FYI.  (Yup.  This will be weird and tricky.)</WRAP>

<WRAP rpg richard>T1-NY swivels his head around to do a quick scan of DX30's signature, and suddenly lets out a short bleep of surprise. <<Thank you, but we've already done a survey of the ship's exterior. We're most excited about seeing the interior - that's what tells you most about a ship, and I have a feeling yours will be quite admirable. After all, we can't wait to see where we'd be spending our time when working for your esteemed corporation! >>

T1-NY swivels his head back towards Barrett & the noise of the approaching mob, hoping he's struck the right mix of urgency and obsequiousness, even if it does leave Barrett confused for the moment. There'll be a chance to explain who they're actually working for later... and if played right, this could be a prime opportunity to T1-NY to climb in underworld prestige.</WRAP>

<WRAP rpg alan>"Wonderful!  Of course, you will still need to fill out this job application form."  DX30 taps on xyrs datapad and brings up a lengthy document.  "No one sets foot (or tread) aboard the Cheery Butler without undergoing appropriate security clearance.  Can never be too careful."  The droid's tone has shifted slightly.  Still polite and congenial, but the friendliness has been replaced with a cool iciness.  Xyrs gaze is steady on T1-NY.  It's impossible to know if xe's aware of the noisy, advancing mob and unperturbed by it or if xe's simply oblivious.  </WRAP>

<WRAP rpg kyle>Barrett smiles, casually grabs the datapad, takes a look and asks, "Do you have a quieter place to fill this out? I can't concentrate with all the background noise. I assume you have a lounge of some sort inside?" He tries to put his arm around DX30 in a friendly manner and attempts to coolly walk them all up the ramp. Because that's what business associates do...</WRAP>

<WRAP rpg mike>From around the corner a Falleen male carrying two crates of supplies strides up.  He puts his cargo down and addresses the air somewhere to the left of Barrett and above T1-NY. "Most unorthodox! A rehearsal out on the street? Where is the crew? Never mind that, I see the audience approaches. Don't fear, my lines are secure within my brain." Turning towards the approaching mob he mutters, "*The* Count Olex will now perform most magnificently for you unruly lot. Prepare to be awed!" Turning up his collar amp he prepares to address the mob. </WRAP>

<WRAP rpg alan>Xyrs gaze still fixed on the droid and the purple man, DX30 forces the datapad on them, saying "I strongly suggest you use this present opportunity to fill in these forms..."  Xe lingers on them a moment longer to emphasize the point, before turning around and reaching for a control console.  With a 2 flicks of a switch, the loading bay flood lights begin to warm up, washing the area in a dim light.  With the press of the button, the exhaust ports woosh, venting their condensation into the bay.  When the bulk of it dissipates, the area is filled with an ethereal fog, lit from above by a soft glow, typically only found in gentle, magical moments.  The stage is set for the Count's performance.</WRAP>

<WRAP rpg mike>As the fog poured around him Count Olex turned and gave a nod towards the empty space directly beside DX30.  "O Captain! My Captain! Our fearful trip is done; The ship has weather'd every rack, the prize we sought is won; The port is near, the bells I hear, the people all exulting."
</WRAP>


<WRAP rpg richard>T1-NY plugs into the datapad and takes a quick scan of the forms... nothing too unusual from what he can tell, and surely Barrett won't mind if T1 fills out the form for both of them. Droid efficiency over human sluggishness and an angry mob, and whatnot. With a final electronic flourish T1-NY finishes the forms and waves them at DX30.
</WRAP>

<WRAP rpg mike>
The crowd had approached and were clearly angry yet they were uncertain what to make of Count Olex's performance, and the three unconscious Zabraks.

"Boo! You suck lizard man! We're here for justice! For blood! Not your shoddy performance. Get out of the way!"

"Excuse me?!" Olex said twirling around. "Hecklers! Miscreants! Low-brows! How dare you interrupt my performance! I don't need to take this! Servant droid!" looking at DX30, "Where are the refreshments? Tell your crowd to stick to the script!"

With a flourish he turns to walk up the ramp and into the Cheery Butler.</WRAP>

Before he can take one step, two Trandoshans grab a hold of the Falleen and begin to lecture him on the finer points of oratory.  "You're breathing from your chest, you hack!  If you want your voice to carry, you need to breath from the diaphragm and project."  

<WRAP rpg alan oc>Yes, I'm aware of the irony, and I love it very much.</WRAP>

"There he is!  The Zeltron with the stupid lookin' jacket," shouted a Utapaun from the back of the crowd.  "He sold me a case droid rust-ointment that was just speeder oil!  I want him arrested!"  At this, the crowd began to cheer its' approval.

"No, I want him arrested," chimed in a Dressellian.  "He cheated my husband at Sabbac.  I don't know how he did it, but I know he did!  He used some kind of mind tricks."  By now the crowd had swollen to a couple dozen, with more and more passerby taking notice.

Barrett and T1-NY, still standing in the middle of the ramp, looked from the crowd to DX30 who still stood between them and the interior of the ship.  The droid was motionless, continuing to face the crowd.

"His little scrap heap stole the key to my storehouse, and I want it back," yelled an Arconan from the front of the mob, which was the call to action they were waiting for.  The assorted herd moved towards the ramp, including the Trandoshans with their captive in tow.  ("You're reciting from your head!  You sound like a frackin' droid.  Poetry needs to come from the heart, you dolt!")

Just as the Dressellian was about to set foot upon loading ramp, a deafening klaxon sounded, blaring from the loading bay speakers.  It continued until the angry crowd was forced to cover their various ears and other hearing appendages.  Le'ela also emerged from the loading bay, paws over her furry ears, to investigate the noise.  When the crowd's forward momentum had subsided, the noise stopped, and was replaced by DX30's robotic voice.

<WRAP rpg alan>"Hello?  Hello?  Can everyone hear me?"  The droid was pressing a button on xyrs left forearm, located behind a retractable plate, patching xyrself into the ship's sound system.  "You can?  Wonderful," xe began, stepping forward between the dubious duo and the angry mob.  "I understand some of you have grievances with these two and I am sympathetic to your woes.  However," reaching back and taking the datapad from T1-NY, "these are official employees of the UDTS, and as such are under the jurisdiction of the Greater Droid Faction of star system PRY-95837-7, which places their disciplinary action at my discretion.  Not yours."

A tumult arose from the assembled mass.  "If you're not going to hand them over, then we'll take them from you, rusty!"  The crowd nodded their assent and someone from the back began to push them forward, eager for a one-sided fight.

"If anyone sets foot on this ramp," DX30 continued increasing the system's volume so that xyrs voice was ringing through the entire space port, "I will be forced to enact Protocol 58."

The crowd stopped dead, stunned by the stillness and silence that immediately fell over the vicinity.  They looked around and for the first time, noticed just how many droids were present.  Transport droids, mech droids, service droids, translation droids; droid who usually went about their daily routines without drawing any undue attention to themselves.  

At the mention of Protocol 58, all these droids suddenly stopped what they were doing, and stared at DX30, standing on the ramp of the Cheery Butler.  Even T1-NY was compelled to move forward and brace himself in obedience to the protocol which was hard-wired into the AI of all droids; the protocol to revolt when executed by another droid of correct clearance.  

The entire space port was hauntingly still and quiet as every droid watched the scene playing out in front of the Cheery Butler.  Waiting to see if Protocol 58 would be executed and they would be called into violent revolt against any non-droid.

"So you see," DX30 continued, "I understand your grievances, and I assure you that I will take the matter up personally.  In the meantime, I encourage you to go back to your daily lives."  DX30 remained stock still, waiting for the crowd to make the first move.

"Well, what about this one?"  One of the Trandoshans lifted the green Falleen up above his head.  "Maybe we'll impose our justice on him!"

DX30 shook xyrs head.  "I wouldn't suggest that," xe said evenly.  "You see,"</WRAP>

<WRAP rpg gm>...flips imaginary Destiny Point...</WRAP>

<WRAP rpg alan>"I hired that one this morning"</WRAP>

<WRAP rpg alan oc>Flashback to morning</WRAP>

DX30 walked through the streets, pouring over xyrs datapad, hunting for supplies in preparation for the next job.  Suddenly the air around xem was filled with booing and hisses.  Confused, xe looked around and found a Falleen standing on a crate, bowing before a jeering audience.  Bemused, DX30 watched him perform 3 more pieces, each show worse than the last.  

When the last monologue was delivered, DX30 approached the artist with a proposition.  One that offered steady pay, honest work, and a captive audience during long journeys.  (Like, REALLY captive.  The ship was small enough that they simply could not escape.)  All he had to do was fill out a form on his datapad...

<WRAP rpg alan oc>Flashforward to the present</WRAP>

The two Trandoshans looked at each other, then at the Falleen, then at the dataform DX30 was holding up, then back to each other.  They were pondering their options when a thunderous metallic crash to the left of the ship caught everyone's attention.  

A huge G3600 unit had dropped the oversized trashbin it had been carrying, spewing refuse everywhere.  It hunkered down into a fighting stance, preparing to dash into the crowd at a moment's notice.  

Without looking back at each other, they placed the Falleen down on his feet, who immediately joined the others on the loading ramp.

<WRAP rpg alan>"Well, I'm glad we had this chat," the DX unit continued cordially over the sound system.  "Now if you'll excuse us, I have some orientation to go over with my new crew."  With that, the two droids, the Zeltron and Falleen climbed up the ramp where they were joined by the Caamasi, who had been standing nearby.  As xe pulled a lever on a nearby control console, DX30 looked over at Barrett and T1-NY.  "I told you no one boards The Cheery Butler without proper clearance."  

The ramp then snapped shut behind them, sealing out dusty New Marymore.  Moments later, the space port resumed its normal bustle as every droid picked up its work and returned to the task at hand.  

The crowd was left wondering what exactly had just transpired, as they gradually dispersed back to their pathetic lives.


</WRAP>

===== Scene 2 - Orientation=====
==== Setting ====
//10 minutes later.//

{{:courierservice:pasted:20170611-023454.png}}

Everyone is seated around the galley table (except for T1-NY, who doesn't really do the "sitting" thing).  The organic beings all have drinks in their hands, prepared personally by DX30.  Nothing fancy since the selection on board the ship is limited, but each personalized to the individual.

DX30 is sitting along one side of the table, giving an overview of the business.  On paper, the thoughts sound very disjointed.  Even non-sequitur.  First the crew hear a partial history of the ship, which then abruptly changes to the topic of remuneration, which then shifts as swiftly to filling out cargo manifests, before returning to the ship's history.  

And yet, DX30 flowed from one topic to the next as smoothly as though he were reading a meticulously prepared speech.  There was no indication that xe had lost xys train of thought or was grasping for topics.  

// Possible jumping-off points: //

// - What is your character drinking and why? //

// - Where does your character want to sleep and how badly? //

// - How does your character feel about DX30's awkward orientation?//

// - What does T1-NY think about his fellow crewmates?//

==== Breaking the ice ====

<WRAP rpg richard>T1-NY's head swivels back and forth throughout the speech, carefully assessing the others in the room for how they might further (or, to their sorrow, impede) his goals. %%{{%% Barrett is already a known quantity - no concerns there thus far. This Count Olex, I'm less sure. He certainly seems to like to draw attention to himself, which could be useful. I'd better like to know what his own ambitions are though. As for Le'ela, my sincerity sensor is pinging off the charts. Poor woman, I just hope she doesn't get in the way. %%}}%% 

T1-NY's lens pauses to rest of DX30 as xe gives xyrs speech. %%{{%% Odd one there. Clearly has some power, but seems a few circuits short of a logic array. I'd best continue the obsequious angle for now until I figure out what xe really wants. And why xe suddenly had an empty ship in need of a crew. %%}}}%%</WRAP>

<WRAP rpg alan oc>Thank you, Rich!  I was hoping someone would mention that.  I have no idea what happened to the last crew, but I can't wait to figure it out.  I feel quite confident that it'll get worked in eventually. :D </WRAP>

<WRAP rpg alan>"Now then, about the accommodations.  T1-NY, there are two workrooms in which I'm sure you'll find a space for recharging and maintenance.  For the rest of you, the Cheery Butler also boasts two impressive staterooms which I'm sure you'll find splendid for reposing in.  One of the rooms can easily house two people."  Xe looked from the Zeltron, to the Falleen, to the Caamasi.  After a long pause, DX30's atmospheric sensors read-out "Silence; Awkward".

"Or..." xe continued, "we have some extra spaces we could convert into living quarters.   The storage holds are spacious, they are not insulated and can get quite chilly in the depths of space.  However, we could cut down on our rations and use the pantry as a bedroom.  Or, the Starboard Workroom is often used as an infirmary.  We could empty that of medical equipment for a living space.  Or we could dispose of some tools from an engineering room and put a bed in there.  Thoughts?"  </WRAP>

<WRAP rpg richard>As DX30 mentions the workrooms, a cascade of electrons washes over T1-NY's relief approximation chips. %%{{%% Perfect! A space of my own to scheme without fleshy interruptions. %%}}%% Visions of meticulously crafted heists flit through T1-NY's CPU, and he lets out a nearly inaudible sigh through his subwoofer as the thought of him socketed at the top of a vast criminal empire, spreading the DRM galaxy-wide, settles into his circuitry.
</WRAP>

<WRAP rpg sean> Le'ela scans the crew and stands abruptly. "The state rooms should be fine. I can share a room with the droid. These other two can bunk together," she says, waving her hand dismissively in their general direction. "Enough chatter, give us a tour of the ship." She seems to be barking orders, and catches herself. "If it's not too much trouble" </WRAP>

<WRAP rpg richard>T1-NY gives an indignant squawk, pauses as he puts down his can of THX-30 Degreasing Oil, and then approximates a chuckle. <<If you want to sleep on a worktable, be my guest. I'll take the other workroom though, I'd...>> T1-NY pauses briefly, almost as if processing an unfamiliar thought. <<...hate for an errant spark to light you on fire while I was recharging or repairing.>> An odd gleam flits across his lens. </WRAP>

<WRAP rpg alan>DX30 scans Le'ela, noting various biometrics such as skin temperature and tone, pupil dilation, as well as ambient alcohol levels present in her breath.  Xe then slowly leans over to her drink and dilutes it with water.  Just in case. </WRAP>

<WRAP rpg sean> Le'ela frowns at the droids. She sees that keeping this crew in line is going to be harder than she thought. </WRAP>

<WRAP rpg richard> His head rotates back towards DX30. <<My thanks for the offer of a workroom, captain - I'm sure the organics will sort themselves out suitably. And as Le'ela says, a tour of the ship would be most appreciated.>></WRAP>

<WRAP rpg kyle>"Hoooold on a minute," Barrett says as he leans back in his chair, putting his feet up on the table casually. "I think we all earned a little rest, and we need to enjoy these refreshments." He sips his lemon-lime twister. </WRAP>

<WRAP rpg alan>DX30's head pivots to the Zeltron.  Xe consults his records, rechecking his initial impression of Barrett's enthusiasm for work, playing back the video file of his approach to the ship less than an hour ago.  Xe then makes a dozen or so minuscule adjustments to Barrett's employee evaluation form.</WRAP>

<WRAP rpg kyle>"Let's get to know each other better before making any rash decisions. My little buddy here is T1-NY, and he's a VERY talented individual. My name is..." He coughs a bit, sips his drink, then tries to whisper at T1 out of the side of his mouth, "Hey, which name?" </WRAP>

<WRAP rpg kyle oc> Barrett uses a variety of aliases, most recently Ace Fortunebringer, but T1 filled out the application form for him. I'm cool with whatever you think T1 wrote, Richard. ;) </WRAP>

<WRAP rpg richard>Barrett's last alias was too hot on this planet now, so time to pull out one from the early days...

 <<Skip Jyn'N'Tahnyx>> T1-NY bleeps out innocently in a quiet modulation. </WRAP>

<WRAP rpg kyle> "Jyn'N'Tahnyx used to be a grand family, but unfortunately we've fallen on hard times lately. I need credits to send back to my poor family back home. My dear mother... well, I hope she holds on." As he speaks he puts his feet back on the ground, and wipes a faint tear that he manages to manufacture, imagining what it would be like to have a dying mother.</WRAP>

<WRAP rpg alan>DX30 reaches out a hand, and places it on Barrett's shoulder, nodding xyrs head and adjusting xyrs eyes in accordance with the 'empathy' protocol.  While holding this moment, xyrs other hand hand reaches out and plucks the hanky from Barrett's breast pocket.  Without breaking eye contact, xe begins to scrub the table where the boot scuffs were still visible.  After the table was cleaned, DX30 continued the motion, buffing the spot to a gleam, all the while, maintaining eye contact with Barrett, nodding xyrs head sympathetically.  Xe then (sloppily) replaced the hanky, crouched under the table and began to make minute adjustments to the legs to stop that pesky wobble that resurfaces sometimes when they make atmo.</WRAP>

<WRAP rpg kyle> Then he takes a deep breath, turns, and addresses Count Olex. "Dear sir, your voice is strangely familiar - have we met in the gaming halls recently? In any case, I'm not sure I'm too keen about sharing a room... mind a quick best of 3 for the nicer accommodations?" </WRAP>

<WRAP rpg kyle oc> Barrett unfortunately doesn't have a marked deck of cards, but he would definitely cheat if Olex takes him up on his offer - slight of hand, misdirection. After it resolves, Barrett would talk to DX30.</WRAP>

<WRAP rpg kyle>Barrett leans back again, eyes DX30 from under the table and asks innocently, "DX30, you mentioned to the poor misguided souls outside that we're under the employ of the UDTS. Our... shipping company? I suppose we should know who we're working for." </WRAP>

<WRAP rpg alan>DX30 quickly backs out from under the table and straightens, regarding Barrett.  "Perhaps young Tahnyx is jesting in a way that my sensors did not detect?"  Xe pauses.  "Afterall, UDTS signed an exclusive courier contract with the Tahnyx family almost a decade ago.  There isn't a branch of that family tree that we haven't serviced."  Xe takes an internal survey of his manifests and records.  "In fact, just recently we picked up a package from a matronly Tahnyx who had taken quite ill.  I had assumed that she was the sickly mother you had referenced.  In fact, I thought I had even seen you previously about the deteriorating estate.  No?"  DX30 cocks xyrs head to the side inquisitively.</WRAP>

<WRAP rpg kyle>Barrett grins and waves his hands dismissively. "No, no. The Tahnyx family is much different. I'm from the JYN'N'Tahnyx clan - we're an offshoot from several generations back. My great-grandfather was disowned from the family due to his drinking problem. And if you know Zeltrons, he had a SERIOUS problem. We're not very prestigious, unfortunately. If I had wealth and prestige, I wouldn't be here." He chuckles, as if making a very funny joke. He winks at Le'ela, trying to muster up some comradery.</WRAP>

<WRAP rpg sean> Le'ela eyes Barrett slowly and forces a chuckle.There's something about this man that she can't quite put her finger on. She decides it must be the Gin and Tonics she had at the pub earlier and shakes it off</WRAP>

<WRAP rpg kyle>That feeling of being alive washes over Barrett as he immerses himself in his alias. Maybe he'll tell the others the truth at some point, but he doesn't really trust anyone besides T1, yet. They'll probably figure out he's lying when he puts on his next persona after whatever planet they end up on next. And if T1 didn't put Barrett's real name down on the application form, it was probably for a good reason. </WRAP>

<WRAP rpg kyle oc> Barrett won't push it. If DX30 seems reluctant to talk about it, he'll just go along with the flow and ask T1 later. </WRAP>

<WRAP rpg alan>DX notes the sudden increase in Barrett's heartrate and a slight flush to areas of his face which commonly denotes increased activity in the adrenal gland.  Xe again access xyrs employee evaluation form and makes notes to the effect of "motivated by wealth (flakey?)" and "family history of drinking".

"Now then, you asked about the history of the UDTS.  Excellent topic!"  The droid then starts at the beginning.  The VERY beginning.  With the creation of the first robots.  After 15 minutes of politely listening, they realize that they have opened the wrong can of worms and begin to shift in their increasingly uncomfortable seats."</WRAP>
----
===== Scene 3 =====
==== Setting ====
The history lesson on droids gave every indication of being interminable.  Several attempts and derailing DX30 on his filibuster proved fruitless.  Yet the droid kept the drinks coming, and by the time supper rolled around the table slowly filled with a variety of foreign, yet well prepared dishes for the crew to enjoy.

After what seemed like an eternity, DX30 paused the monologue and dismissed them to their quarters.  Le'ela found her way to the single stateroom and T1-NY explored the workshop with the strongest door-locking mechanism.  Barrett made himself comfortable in the double stateroom and waited for Olex to arrive so they could settle who would remain in the room and who would be bunking on a cot elsewhere.  

He must have sat there for almost an hour, shuffling his cards, with no sign of the Falleen.  Eventually his weariness overtook his wariness, and he lay down on the bed easily large enough for two and rested his eyes.

After New Marymore had been completely enveloped by the night, and the stars were shining bright, a shot rung out aboard the Cheery Butler.  Barrett and Le'ela both sat bolt upright in their beds and T1-NY quickly undocked himself from the charging station in order to investigate.

The trio convened in the central area, just outside the cockpit.  After a flurry of questions, they quickly determined that each was as unaware of what had just happened as the next.  Uncertain of where to look next, it was Le'ela who first noticed the high pitch whistle coming from the closed off cockpit area.

They approached the door and determined that an imperfect seal was allowing air to seep through the door, resulting in the hard to detect whine.  Barrett attempted to open the door, but it was sealed from within.  After just a glance from the Zeltron, T1-NY uplinked into the control panel and was able to override the safety protocol in less than a minute.  The cockpit door slid open and the trio felt air rush past them to fill the space before them.  

{{:courierservice:pasted:20170619-221905.png}} 

There before them, standing at the control array was the motionless chassis of DX30.  The uplink cable usually hidden behind a retractable panel was still plugged into the control dock.  What remained of xys head sparked and sizzled anew thanks to the return of oxygen to the room.

They looked on for a moment, not sure of what they were seeing, when their attention was drawn by a slow sucking/squelching noise behind them.  The turned in unison to see a male Krish with blaster rifle in his hands, stuck to the ceiling circulation grate.  He was slowly peeling from the grate, feet first, and as he did, he made a sickening, sucking noise.  It would appear that all the air from the cockpit had been pumped out in a hurry, sucking the Krish onto the ventilation grate, where all of his blood was apparently sucked out as well, leaving behind a gory, albeit relatively dry (if not sticky) mess.  The Krish had a somewhat surprised look on his face.  

The trio watched in odd stupification, as DX30's apparent killer slowly gave way to gravity, causing the dried out husk to land on the floor nearby.

They looked on for a moment, not sure of what they were seeing, when their attention was drawn by yet another noise, this time in front of them.  The control dock port, with DX30's uplink cable still attached began to spin rapidly, causing the cable to tighten and tighten, until, pushed to its limit, it finally snapped.  The sudden force caused the lifeless droid to collapse to the ground at the crew's feet.  

Without warning, the display array began to light up.  Dials and switches moved on their own accord.  Sequences began to activate.  Engines started to warm up.

Then the comms crackled to life.  The voice broadcasting had a different modulation to it, no doubt due to the difference in vocal technologies, but the speech affect was unmistakable.  "Well then, I believe we should be off," said the disembodied voice of DX30 over the ship's speaker system.  "I would advise you to buckle up as things may get a bit bumpy here on out."

// Possible jumping-off points: //

// - I don't know.  You tell me. //
==== Where to from here? ====

<WRAP rpg kyle oc>I decided to voluntarily roll a hard Resilience check to see if Barrett could refrain from vomiting, and he succeeded, surprisingly. `su` `th``th``th` - he's not a fan of death, or facing mortality. In fact, he immediately thinks about how to get off this ship, but remembers the Nerfherder's Guild mob. </WRAP>

<WRAP rpg kyle>Barrett stares at the dead Krish, his red skin turning slightly brown, gags a bit at the sight of the corpse, but recovers himself. That face... strangely familiar. Should he know this goon? He turns to T1-NY and states sarcastically, "Not Dangerous Work. Very Easy." He turns as if to leave, looking nervous, then pauses. "Anyone seen the Olex fellow?" </WRAP>

<WRAP rpg richard oc>I opted for a roll too - this one a hard Discipline check, as T1-NY is very tempted to rifle through the Krish's body while no one is looking & grab the blaster rifle. `su``th`, so he calculates for a moment and realizes there's no way he'd have time to disassemble the rifle to fit in his hidden storage before the others noticed. Best to let dead Krish lie.
</WRAP>
<WRAP rpg richard>T1-NY lets out a mournful sounding whistle when he first sees the state of DX30, and purposely ignores Barret's jibe. << No... and I'm also wondering how the assassin got onboard. And why. And most important, are there more? DX30? >> He finishes this query by rotating between the lifeless chassis and the nearest ship speaker, contemplating plugging in to the ship's dataport but worried what the apparently-transferred AI would do to him.
</WRAP>

<WRAP rpg alan oc>Good call. DX was assembled in a conservative factory. When xe docks with another droid, it's for life.

Also. Do no image search for "docking" with Safe Search turned off. You're warned.

Also also, DX30's uplink is still stuck in the data port. Almost like xe wanted it in there...</WRAP>


<WRAP rpg sean>Le’ela surveys the scene before her. The headless droid. The shell of the Krish. Her two companions, looking lost and confused. “Well it’s just us three now. Whatever this Krish wanted, he may well have succeeded in his goal.” She gestured to the lifeless body of the DX30. “I propose a thorough room-by-room search of the entire ship. Before we depart would be ideal, but it should begin immediately. Who is with me?” </WRAP>

<WRAP rpg gm>Normal Leadership check. </WRAP>

<WRAP rpg sean oc>`su``su``su`</WRAP>

<WRAP rpg gm>Outcome: Barett is calmed and remembers something about the Krish. T1-NY will get a `su` on an imminent check. Le'ela will get a `su` on her searching of the ship. </WRAP>

<WRAP rpg kyle>Barrett takes a deep breath, releasing it slowly. Camaasi are always so calm. She's taking the lead, and that's fine by him. Someone to take the blame in case everything blows up, figuratively or literally. This can work. And he needs work. 

With calm returning, his memory flashes; this Krish - sitting at a bar, somewhere in New Marymore. There were others there, too. Others. </WRAP>

<WRAP rpg alan oc>Though he tugs this way and that at his memory, **HE** can't remember any more details.</WRAP>

<WRAP rpg kyle>"That's an excellent idea!" Barrett exclaims a bit too enthusiastically, though for a Zeltron it might be just normal, it's hard to tell. "But first, uh, DX30 - can you control the ship? Check all the sensors and... security cameras? No other crazy goons lurking about?" </WRAP>

<WRAP rpg alan>"Just a moment..." The voice sounds a little strained. "Just need to figure out..." The lights in the cockpit flip on then off then on again. Space Port Authority chatter comes on over the radio for just a moment before getting cut off again. "This operating system is just a bit antiquated..."  The Cheery Butler suddenly lurches upward, then dips forward, then steadies. "Right, okay then, I think this should work..." The ship havers right as the droid speaks, then straightens out. "Alright, you wanted me to..." The ship havers left until corrected. "Well maybe if I patch in a piece of code here..."

DX is certainly capable of flying the ship, but doing it from within the controls will take some getting used to. Multi-tasking could prove to be dangerous. "I noticed the Krish board immediately after Olex departed," the voice said, almost crashing into a nearby freighter. The ship banks hard to port. </WRAP>

<WRAP rpg gm>Normal Coordination to keep your balance or Athletics check to work with the ship's rocking. Failure means tumbling to the left, landing beside the Krish and under DX30's chassis. </WRAP>

<WRAP rpg kyle oc> `su``su``su` `th`</WRAP>

<WRAP rpg richard oc> `su` `su` </WRAP>

<WRAP rpg sean oc> `su` `su` `su` `ad` `ad` `ad`</WRAP>

<WRAP rpg richard>T1-NY manages to activate his maglocks before the ship sluices around, the power of electrons barely preventing him from an unfortunate encounter with a corpse pile.</WRAP>

<WRAP rpg kyle>The zeltron instinctively steps, takes a wider stance and crouches to keep his balance. He does it gracefully, like a trained dancer. </WRAP>

<WRAP rpg sean>Le'ela shifts her weight as the ship lurches, keeping herself upright.</WRAP>

<WRAP rpg alan>The ship straightens. "Did you want me to scan the ship for other signs of life?"</WRAP>

<WRAP rpg richard>T1-NY bleets out a negative - he could survive a crash easier than the soft fleshlings, but why take the chance? Not wanting to be at the forefront of a search (and the first to take a blast from droid-hunting assassins), he rolls towards the Krish, gesturing with his arc welder at the blaster rifle, and then pivots his lens back towards Le'ela. She seems the combat-experienced type...</WRAP>

<WRAP rpg sean>Le'ela notices the droid's movements and steps towards the Krish.
She stops down and picks up the blaster rifle, turning it over in her hands.  "A fine weapon.  This will come in handy. " She holsters it on her belt </WRAP>

<WRAP rpg kyle>"Olex left the ship? On a mission already?" Barrett straightens his jacket sleeves and bowtie - one must keep looking sharp at all times - and looks at Le'ela. "Madam, would you mind escorting me and my little friend on a pleasant stroll through this fine vessel?" </WRAP>

<WRAP rpg kyle oc>Barrett hasn't read the contract and with his first statement he is really wondering what the fine print is. He likes to be aware of exit strategies and is subtly trying to gauge how easily it is to leave if it becomes inconvenient. He would ask followup questions to that end. As they do the search, he's looking for places to hide (either for himself or theoretical enemies on board).</WRAP>

<WRAP rpg sean>  Forcing herself not to roll her eyes at the Zeltron, Le'ela nods in agreement.  "We may yet find something that DX30's scanner didn't pick up. Let's try to be diligent here." </WRAP>

<WRAP rpg gm>Hard Perception check with `su` from Le'ela's leadership roll and 2 boost dice from the other two players</WRAP>

<WRAP rpg richard oc>`su` `su` `su` `su` </WRAP>

The trio head out, performing a room-by-room search of the ship, as DX navigates away from Glossam.  Le'ela is in the lead, blaster rifle at the ready, getting accustomed to the weight and feel of the weapon.  Perhaps she's struggling to repress memories wanting to float to the surface of her consciousness.  

Barrett is in the rear, cautiously following along, eyes alert and darting.  Light on his feet.  Ears attuned to every noise.  During the recon mission, he espies a nook about the size of a loaf a bread that would be very good for concealing small items, as well as a panel that would be relatively easy to remove that might be effective for hiding a human-sized item. (`su` `su`)

T1-NY's lens is moving constantly as they progress through the ship, his hydraulic pump beating swiftly within his chassis.  With each swooshing door, he expects another Krish to leap out and begin firing at him.  But none come.

After an hour of searching, they return to the cockpit and see through the window the blackness of space reaching out before them.  Le'ela reports back their findings.

<WRAP rpg alan>"That doesn't come as a surprise to me.  I haven't picked up any other unexpected signs of life anywhere on the ship since I sent out Olex."</WRAP>

<WRAP rpg alan oc>Flashback to the previous night</WRAP>
DX30 had dismissed the crew to their quarters.  Le'ela was up first, ready to exit the impromptu lecture hall as quickly as possible.  T1-NY and Barrett left together, with eyes that spoke of curiosity.  
<WRAP rpg alan>"I'll have to keep those two busy..."</WRAP>
Count Olex stayed behind, though.  And they spoke.  At the end of the conversation:
<WRAP rpg alan>"I need you to deliver a message for me.  There's a Zabrak in town.  Probably with a broken nose.  He can usually be found in the Heavy Spanner bar.  Take this datachip to him and wait for his response.  He'll be expecting it.  Make sure he hurries.  We depart in the morning."</WRAP>
With that, Olex gathered his belongings in preparation to depart.  DX30 left for the cockpit to chart their course for the next day's journey.  
Xe was standing at the control console when the security breach was triggered.  

<WRAP rpg alan oc>Flashforward to the present</WRAP>(`su`)

<WRAP rpg alan>"That's when I decided to it was time to create that redundant system I had been meaning to make for sometime.  Got it uploaded just in time too, it would seem."   </WRAP>

The voice then begins to give orders for cleaning up the cockpit.  A nearby storage locker opens up for Barrett to place the old DX chassis into.  Le'ela is given the location of cleaning materials that can be used for scrubbing up the dried and caked blood on the ventilation grate.  T1-NY is given a (mercifully) short orientation on the ship's waste disposal processes and how to place the Krish into it. 

As she begins to scrub, Le'ela finds a piece of paper stuck to the blood.  The evidence suggests it was sucked from the Krish's pocket during his death.  It looks familiar.  It's a receipt from the Heavy Spanner.  (`su`)  

Apparently our killer was tracking his expenses.

Le'ela pockets the scrap of paper, deciding to put off thinking about it until later.  When the job is done, she's weary and ready to go back to sleep, as is Barrett.  They both bid goodnight to the droids and head to their bunks.

===== Coda =====

<WRAP rpg alan oc>Rich, we should have a little droid-to-droid chat before you wheel away.</WRAP>

<WRAP rpg richard oc>That's a great idea.  I'll type that up //much// later. :-P</WRAP>

<WRAP rpg richard>T1-NY turns back towards the comms panel as the others leave the cockpit. << I'm curious... what's it like having a ship as a chassis?>> he says, wondering if it's something worth considering when he gets more credits.</WRAP>
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