Once all the blasters and blades are placed in the box, the group is escorted by two guards out of the security complex and into the main field outside.  There a Rodian stands to meet them.  This one is more conservatively dressed than the Trandoshans.  He wears no weapon of any kind.

"Welcomez." he says in heavily-accented Basic.  "You are herez to buy maybez yezz?  I am Skee.  I handle all tradez.  We do business maybez yezz?  Let me show you around."

As Cyril breaks into his story once more, the rest of the group has time to look around.  With the security station behind you (north), you can see a large launch pad before you.  It is large enough to handle two large freighters simultaneously.  To the south is a small tower, complete with various radar and comm towers.  This clearly serves as the control tower and headquarters.  To the west is a large barracks-style structure which likely serves as residential facilities for the Trandoshans.  Next to it is a larger hanger.  It is big enough to support a number of large transports.  Out the front a Cloakshape fighter is being worked on by mechanics.

Skee begins ushering the group towards the a large building in the south-east corner of the facility.  It has no windows and has three doors, all locked.  There is a bored-looking Trandoshan on duty who comes to attention as the group closes.  After a brief talk in Dosh, the guard unlocks the door and the group is ushered in.  The two Trandoshan guards remain behind the group at all times, there blaster rifles constantly at the ready.

The smell that strikes the group is overpowering.  No smell in the galaxy compares with the smell of dozens of humanoids packed in together in abject misery.  The group are led down a corridor, there are 16 small cells, 8 a side, each containing 4-6 slaves.  The races include humans, wookies, a Talz and even some Twi'leks.  All of them are young and look fairly healthy.  Some still sport defiant looks and glare at the group as they pass.  Others meekly stare at the ground, their defiance gone.

Seeming not to notice the smell, Skee keeps talking as he walks.  "You seez?  All good qualitiy.  Strong, healthy, they fetch good pricez.  We feedz them once a dayz to keep them well.  We even have Doctor.  Me showz you."

At the end of the corridor is another locked door.  The group is ushered through.  A small waiting area is passed through and on into a crude but modestly-equipped medical facility.  A ventilation fan works overtime to combat the smell.  This combined with the strong smell of surgical disinfectant.  In the corner a young human is setting a slave's arm which had been broken.  Whilst not showing any true concern for the man's injury the doctor nonetheless gives the man a strong analgesic before resetting the bone and refusing it.

Skee.  "You seez?  Good medicine.  Not lose slaves to sickness.  Good Doctor keepz them well."

A beep emerges from Skee's commlink.  He mutters into it for a moment.

"Meez needed for a moment.  You stay here.  Talk to Doctor.  He tell you our slaves strong."

Skee moves from the room.  The two Rodian guards stand by the door, obviously to keep the team in and prevent them from wandering.  The doctor seems not to pay attention to the group's presence as he works on finishing his work.

The good doctor raises an eyebrow at the mention by Skee of the slaves being kept well. Though the rodian walks away distracted, the doc mumbles, "Leaving me to explain the quality of the slaves, poor choice Skee."

Looking at the group of them for only a brief moment, he turns his attention to the setting of the arm in front of him. With quick speed, the wrappings, and bacta laced binding is spun around and around elbow to shoulder. As the back and forth movement of the wrap continues, he mentions a bit more loudly to the group of them, ”I'll be to the point here. I'm not a salesman, and I don't care if you buy anyone or not. I'm a doctor, and I'm paid hard credits to keep the slaves from dying, not to make a sale. Any questions?”



OOC:  Okay if any of you need more info on anything ask me in PM and I'll make the necessary checks.  For now you are alone in the medical centre with two rodian guards, the doctor and his patient.
This message was last edited by the GM at 00:37, Sun 29 Oct 2006.

As they are led through the complex, Jamie looks at the parapets and towers, marveling at the security. 
This place is a fortress!
He couldn't help a frown when they passed all the slaves.  This is awful!  Dozens of humanoids kept in these conditions...and what is that smell?  I've got to help these people.
Jamie had to resist talking to the slaves, informing them of their impending rescue to give them enough hope to live another day.  The only thing that kept him  from doing so was the knowledge that it would likely cost the lives of his entire team.  The slaves would have to hang on a little while more.
He scrutinized the doctor as he set the slave's broken arm.
"They seem to be strong enough," he said to the doctor, "But how are they psychologically?  Are they prepared for skilled labor?"

Nirro's walke through the complex was decidedly unpleasant. He hated slavers. If things had gone different for him when he was younger he might have ended up a slave himself. He sighed, never mess with the Hutts from Nar Shadaa. While Jaime speaks to the doctor, Nirro casually stands watching the doctor administer the treatment. At least the they get doctors Nirro thought, well, they will be free soon enough.

Ignoring the question for the moment, the doc calmly mentions to the slave, "I'm going to ignite the plastic polymer, and it's going to get a bit warm. Stay still." Turning to the durasteel crate beside him, the doc grabs a small instrument, a bluish black cylinder with a small funnel at the end. Aiming the device at the slaves cast, a slight reddish light is seen from the funnel end of the tool, and as it hits the cast, it is seen to be firming up under the light.

Appearing intent upon focusing on the detail of the firming of the cast, the doc finally answers the earlier question. "Psychologically? You care? Taking a moment to meet the eyes of the questioner, he doesn't wait for an answer. "I guess you wouldn't ask if you didn't. They come from a variety of planets and sources, some don't know what a hydrospanner is, and others have probably worked in more equipped labs than I'm used to." Not quite sure if that satisfied the man, the doc asks, "Just exactly what kind of skilled labour did you have in mind?"

"Whoa," said Jamie, watching the doctor ignite the cast.  He reached out a finger and tapped the hard cast once the doctor was finished.  "That's pretty cool."
He looked back to the doctor.  "I'm talking about the kind of labor that doesn't appreciate questions.  Are they intelligent enough to be trained quickly?"

Shrugging in disinterest at the comment about the cast, the doctor answers.

"Labour that doesn't like questions? I'm guessing you mean slave masters that don't like questions from the slaves. Well, I suppose some are more subservient than others. If you want a hard and fast rule, the work makes a difference as to whether they will listen quickly or not. You want a person to start repairs on a radiation shield of a shield core, then you may have some issue. If you want entertainment, then maybe try a lizardmonkey."

"I'm figuring you're not being specific about labor because you don't know what they will be used to work on, and you're buying for someone else. That suggests you aren't in the loop to know what's going on." Leaning back, stretching his back out after being hunched over the arm of the slave, the doctor doesn't try and smile, or look interested. He seems to be showing some disinterest in the man actually. "Whatever, I understand, not your credits, not your concern. I guess we all have owners in the end. Some are better paying positions though, right?"

"Actually," snapped Jamie, irritated by the doctor's obvious lack of interest, "I meant I don't appreciate your questions.  If I'm going to buy any slaves, they need to be fit physically and mentally, able to learn a range of skills quickly."
He almost asked if the slavers had any lizardmonkeys on stock, but caught his tongue just in time to remain credible.

Devon had kept silent during their tour of the facility, trailing along behind Jamie and watching everything.  Although his perpetual scowl made it hard to be sure, he looked at everything they saw with apparant interest.

Devons scowl became slightly more pronounced as they were shown the slaves, but he held his peace.  Once the doctor had finished talking to Jamie about the slaves mental health, Devon gestured brusquely at the slaves broken arm.
'How did that happen?'

Hearing the difference in attitude, now the doctor smiles, somewhat smugly, his lips tight, but curled up at the edges. "Oh don't mind me. I'm just some doctor working out of a corner of a slave ring. What difference is it to me what kind of work you may or may not know the slaves will be doing? Trying to be civil, or something like that."

At that point, the doctor turns to his equipment, starting to gather things up, several of the pieces at a time, and walks them over to some scratched up cabinet, but still shiny in some places. Opening up the doors, the variety of instruments, and devices fill the cabinet, even stacked on top of each other. He seems to put the equipment in hand in a specific spot, even though it seems like clutter. It takes a moment, and as he is placing things away, he glances at the guards at the front of the medical area, and then mentions, "I do what I can for them. They get sick, I help them. When some blasted bantha fodder wants to be a bit none too gentle, they get sent here."

He turns to the slave, and placing a hand on the cast, he adds, "Try and keep this dry for the next hour, and after that it should be fully set."  He gives the slave another hypospray in the shoulder and then as he grabs the last batch of his equipment from the table, he yells to the guards,  "Hey Doda, the cast is set, and he's done here. You want me to take him back,  or did you want to?"

"Was there any other questions?"

Hearing Devon ask about the slave's arm he shrugs.  "I don't ask questions about how things happen.  I just keep them fit and well.  Its what I'm paid to do."

"And paid wellz no?  We very lucky to have our Doctor."

Skee stands in the doorway smiling.

"Doc has told you much?  Told you how our slaves strong yes?  We have good quality.  Fit for much work."

The doctor nods then carries his gear back into a storeroom behind the medical bay and is lost to sight.

Jamie closed his eyes for a moment and stroked his chin.  After a deep breath and a moment's concentration, he says "Oh yes...very good quality...good doctor."

He opened his eyes and looked straight into Skee's.  "Indeed, they all look good.  How many do you have available?  We'd like a large quantity.  What's your price per slave?"

Skee eyes light up at the talk of credits.  "Not easy question.  Dependz why you need slaves.  Simple labourz cost less then clever onez.  Pretty onez also cost more yes.  You give me list and I make a cost."

Skee's commlink beeps and he notes it before gesturing to the door.  "New shipment is arriving.  We go out yes.  Doctor busy soon.  He likes to see slaves when they land."

The group is ushered outside.  Skee points to the western sky but his gesture is unnecessary.  A Barloz Medium Freighter is making a landing.  Two Headhunters fly in escort of the ship.  As the transport lines up for landing, the two fighters remain airborne until it is safely touched down.  Only then do the two fighters land beside it.

With suprising efficiency, the fighters are taxied into the hanger whilst the transport lowers its gangplank.  Slaves cuffed together in pairs, struggle down the ramp.  Four trandoshans watch over them, stun rods in their hands.  Periodically they zap a slave to keep them moving.  In under five minutes a score of slaves are moved from the transport into the medical centre.  Then mechanics who had been working on the Cloakshape fighter move to the transport.

Skee turns back to the group.  "good security.  Our ships fly with slaves until the jump to hyperspace.  No problems with pirates yes.  We keep you slave safe and even deliver them. . .for a small transport fee."
This message was last edited by the GM at 11:47, Fri 10 Nov 2006.

Nirro watches the freighter come in for landing. He watches the headhunters being taxied into the hanger and glances that way to see if he could get a glimpse inside. He is trying to see how many fighters, headhunter or otherwise are inside. He will not stand and stare in there, just a quick glance or positioning himself in such a way as to be able to see inside through the corner of his eye.

Jamie watched the landings like a hawk, taking special interest in the Z-95s.
"You always escort with only two fighters?  That's not much...or are they modified?  I'm surprised you haven't had trouble with pirates."
He winced as the slaves passed, and turned his eyes away from them toward Skee.
"We don't need pretty slaves.  Mostly we need hard laborers, but we also need a few clever enough for tricky work.  Delivery would be convenient, but if you charge too much we'll do it ourselves.  What's your price?"

Skee grins at Jamie's question of security.  "Our security is good.  Details no matter.  Some things me not know and no tell you anyway.  Bad for business."

"You want strong slaves yes?  Standard price is two thousand credits.  Smart ones cost more.  Give you many years of service.  Price is good yes?  Better than what Hutts charge you.  Cost to deliver depends on where you go."

It is not possible to see into the hanger at the moment due to your positioning.  The transport is effectively blocking your view of the hanger.

Jamie's jaw dropped visibly, but he caught it and forced himself to look away from Skee, to the walls.
"Two thousand!?  And more for the smart ones?  That's a bit high, don't you think?  I could get a labor droid for under a thousand!  I admit there are advantages to living slaves, but two thousand is a bit high.  The price should be in the hundreds!"

Slee stares at Jamie for a few seconds a look of confusion and suspicion on his face.  Then his composure reverts to one of a smile.

"You make joke yes?  Mez sorry, not understand human humour.  Me thought you were serious for moment."

As his interest returned to Skee, Jamie forced a smile.
"Ha!" he said, pointing a finger at the slaver.  "You believed me."
He looked around the compund for a moment, then said "If you would kindly return our weapons and comlinks, we should be reporting back to our own master now.  I think we've seen enough; we will return in the near future to negotiate a deal."

Skee smile remains slightly taut but he nods to Jamie.  "Yess, yess.  You come back, we make deals.  Lotss of creditss for all.  Good luck, guarsds will show you out.  Me must see new stock."

Skee moves off into the slave holding area where the new arrivals were taken.  The two guards escort the group back to the guard house.  There is little said as the group's gear is returned and they are escorted off the base.

The doors slam behind them with a resounding clang and the group is once more on the street.


OOC:  Okay I'm assuming the team will regroup and head back to the hanger (and who knows what fun).  However as you proceed could people include pm's of stuff they wanted to know about the slavetr compound and have yet to ask (or who asked and didn't get a response from me).  That way when it comes time to debrief/plan everyone will know enough to contribute in regards to their specialty. 

Jamie holstered his blaster and patted himself down, chuckling.  He thumped Nirro on the back enthusiastically.
"Still in one piece!  I'd say that was a success?"
Once they were a block away from the compound and out of sight, Jamie activated his comlink.
"We're done, fellas.  Can you meet us outside the building?  Oh, and Allen...don't stand around looking suspicous, eh?"

OOC: Yeah, I think we'll regroup and go straight back to base.
This message was last edited by the player at 15:20, Mon 20 Nov 2006.

"Yes, sir."

OOC: This is mostly a PM, but you can hear what I said over the comlink.

Nirro exits the base with the others and heads back, Well the easy part is done, he thinks to himself.

Trailing along behind the others and fiddling with his commlink, Devon pauses momentarily to turn and glower back at the doors to slavers compound, mutters what sound distinctly like a curse, then followed after his team-mates.

<<A little while later>>


The group arrives back at the hanger without incident.  A large section of the hanger had been cleared out by the Commander and a rough map had been commenced on the ground.

"Welcome back Talons.  There's caf and food in the corner.  Then get over here and lets plan a raid.  I want our little fleet to be well stocked shortly, courtesy of some slavers."

Xil helps himself to a cup of caf and a sandwich before walking back to the 'floor plan'.  He points to a spot outside the building.

"The residential block here provides a good vantage point for me.  It doesn't offer me views of the entire facility, but I have good sight lines here, here and here.  I can mostly see the landing area and hanger which means I can cover people as they take off."

"I only saw two guards walking the walls.  They rarely looked outwards and they seemed bored.  There may have been more at ground level but I couldn't see any.  I could see one weapon mount on the southeast wall.  Nothing was mounted at the time but it looks like its designed to take a heavy repeater or an E-web.  I have a clear shot at anyone who tries to man that emplacement."

"Even at night the shots shouldn't be too difficult.  There is minimal ambient light on the roof where I will set up.  We have the codes to the doors and elevator so I wont need any assistance at that end."

Jamie eagerly helps himself to refreshments, then drags a chair to the map and seats himself.
"Sir, I don't believe getting in the compound will be a problem; if things go sour, getting out could be a problem.  They expect us back sometime soon to further negotiate a deal.  They'll open the front gate for us, but they will immediately want to confiscate our weapons and comlinks.  They do have a security camera outside the front gate, so I won't be able to set up explosives for an escape.  These things are cheap, though.  Does everyone have one?"
Jamie waves his ascension gun over his head for all to see.
"The gun emplacements look like they're designed to point in.  There's a big turbolaser for surface-to-air defense.  If we were to start a ruckus, the wall might be a good place to start.  If we can get a proper security magcard from one of the guards, we should be able to bypass most of the doors in the compound."
Jamie takes a swig of caf before continuing.
"We might have another option, Sir.  We met the doctor.  He hates the slavers, and he hates us...he thought we were slavers, too...but he is compassionate with the slaves.  I believe he'll do anything he can to help them, Sir.  If Nirro were to send him a message, I think he would assist us.  If he sided with us he could be invaluable...but if he didn't, we could end up walking into a trap.  If we leave ourselves an easy out, it could be worth the risk."