Interesting.  A religious convert - that might explain Zaerd's outlook on life, rather different than the reputed norm for his race.  Shard isn't one to pigeonhole people based on skin, hair, scales, or horns, but she also knows that reputations tend to play the bell-curve, when they aren't motivated by jealousy.  This Rodian seems to be near one end - in this case, a good thing.  "Interesting," she responds to his explanation. "And good luck with that."  She means it, too - no sarcasm intended.

Peace and enlightenment are fine goals...when they aren't distributed at the tip of a white-hot bar of light.

"Don't mind sitting in the back."  It'll play hell with her back, Shard knows, but better someone with a blaster in the front seat beside the pilot than her.  The little zap-gun she carries would be useless for shooting between vehicles, especially with her own (lack of) skill.  Jalt opts for an armed swoop, Zaerd works out the price.  Shard shrugs.  She could haggle, but the Rebellion will be compensating them for whatever they shell out, and she's not confident enough in the prices to decide if they're being overcharged.

Better to let one of the others handle if, should they so desire.

Rhijans nodded.  "Sounds like a fair enough deal to me."  Truth be told, he had no idea what the going rates were for vehicle rentals, but he also didn't feel there was much time to be dickering over prices.  He was, secretly, relieved that at least one of the vehicles would be armed.  Hand blasters were not always very effective anti-vehicle weapons, though they were better than nothing, but he'd also reasoned that using a mining hauler for a regular cargo run might actually draw more attention that going with a plain, innocuous vehicle.  Sometimes the easiest way to hide is to appear as though there's nothing to hide, he observed to himself.  He'd seen that tactic work several times, both for himself as a hunter and for his targets.

He produced the credits and settled up with Zaerd.  "Everybody get what you need from the ship...might be advisable to get filter masks, all around, but definitely for Mogg and Jalt.  Not planning any stops...but, then again, we weren't planning on landing here in the first place, so..."  He shrugged, letting them fill in the gaps.  One of the reasons he was still here was because he tried to plan for contingencies.  "Let's be ready to go ASAP...I'd like to get there with time to load and get back before we get charged another day's rent on the vehicles."  He sincerely hoped that was the greatest worry they faced, from this point...but he doubted it.

It sounded like his swoop wouldn't have a weapon. He would have preferred one, given a choice, but he found life rarely gave ideal choices from which to be choosing. He nodded his approval. He could still use the swoop to scout or distract or get close to an attacker. His mind swirled with visions of an epic leap from his sweep to an attacking vessel. (It was a fun thought as long as it was only in his imagination. Terrifying, otherwise.)

He patted his pouches. "Have everything. Quite ready."

He fishes his breathmask out of his pouch and readies it.

Mark smiled as plans were made. "I've got a breath mask. If everybody has one, then I can pop the hatch and look around with the macrobinoculars. Or we can let those in the swoops scout for us."

"The sooner we start the sooner we finish.  Got my mask with me."

Neary patted her bag that always and was seen slung over her shoulder and resting against her hip, an old and worn bag that looked older than her.

"Deeh deh du-duh" or words/sounds to that effects comes from Wheely as the little droid zips over to wait at the entrance of the hauler.

[ http://rimearth.net/wheely_talk1.mp3 ]

Rhijans shrugged.  "Looks like everyone planned ahead.  Personally, I'd prefer to travel with the masks off, and I'm sure the swoops are a lot faster than the transport...they can take up a scouting orbit around us, it'll give them a chance to show off a little bit while they're doing something useful."  Even though the smile never made it to his face, the change in his inflection conveyed an almost teasing take on the concept.  "If they see something that warrants a closer look, then we can pop the hatch and pull out the macrobinocs.  I'm sure our new Rodian friend would prefer that we not coat the interior of his transport with poisonous seed grains, so let's keep the doors shut as much as we can."

"I'd also recommend travelling with commlinks open, but a minimum of chatter and all of it as innocuous as possible.  If something takes anyone by surprise, I want to hear about it right away, but we don't want to advertise why we're going in.  A little light-hearted banter wouldn't go amiss, coming in with two of us on swoops."  He paused for a moment, trying to think if there was anything else he was overlooking.

"Breath mask.  Yeah." Shard shakes her head.  "Would be useful, but I don't actually have one."  She crooks a finger at the vehicles' owner.  "Zaerd, you wouldn't happen to have a breath-mask for a human handy, would you?"  She gives a sour grin. "I'd even pay for it - no throwing in free of charge."

A good philosophy is its own reward, and Shard likes to think that the universe gives back.  But sometimes it needs a boot in the rear end.

Jektoo Zaerd, as it turns out, does have a few breathmasks that he is prepared to sell to people.  Even more surprising, considering his species, is the fact that he is prepared to let them go at a perfectly reasonable price, without any haggling.  He is also able to furnish directions to Ker Aldas, at no charge whatsoever, and seems glad to do so for such discerning customers...

About thirty minutes later, having finalised the deal with the honest rodian, and negotiated the Ker Zaineer traffic, the group find themselves passing through the protective shield that covers the city, and out into Dateen's open air.  A broad strip of ferrocrete stretches out before them, the road to Ker Aldas.  To each side dense forests tower above the road, with a canopy of bluish green foliage.  The air is...

Well... some might say that it would take the flip of a credit to decide if the air is more gas than solid.  Falling leaves, flower petals, seeds drifting along beneath clusters of lightweight filaments, clouds of spores, swarms of small flies.  The visibility here at ground level is somewhat restricted by the sheer density of the airborne biomass.

The road seems to rise slightly, which fits in with what Jektoo Zaerd had told them, that there are several ranges of low mountains which must be crossed on the way to Ker Aldas.  In fact, the peaks of the first range are dimly visible through the crowded atmosphere.

A touch on the throttle, and the transport eases up to its maximum speed of 160 kph, running three metres above the road surface.  The swoops match speed and altitude easily, and the trio of vehicles set off for Ker Aldas...

Still familiarizing himself with the controls of the swoop, for he isn't the best of pilots, Mogg eases in behind the transport and keeps a safe distance. He doesn't want to try anything fancy on this trip, not unless the situation calls for something fancy, and he doesn't think it will. Once he does begin to feel comfortable with the controls, he finds he enjoys the ride.

The first thirty kilometres, or so, of gently rising road are fairly straight, which gives the drivers a chance to (re)familiarise themselves with the controls of their respective vehicles.

Those on the swoops soon find that they are better off spending as much time behind the truck as possible, as it reduces the frequency of stinging 160 kph impacts with airborne particles and lifeforms.  As they climb into the cooler air of the first mountain pass, things improve slightly.

For one thing, the insect swarms become less pervasive.  For another, the road starts to wind through a narrow gorge, forcing the vehicles to slow somewhat, thus reducing the force of any impacts.

After a short while, though, the road emerges from the gorge, and begins the long, straight descent into the broad valley which separates this mountain range from the next one.

And it is at precisely this point that a quartet of swoops drop from the cliffs behind them, and start to accelerate after the rebels' vehicles!

OOC: Anything you do from now on will require dice rolls.

Oblivious the current situation, Shard dozes in the back of the transport, pleased there are at least rudimentary passenger areas just ahead of the load space.  Rolling around in the back of the vehicle as it...

...was that sound coming from outside?

Blinking her eyes clear of a slight hangover-fuddlement, she cranes her neck to peer out the nearest window.  Oh.  Well, isn't that just perfect.  Her voice rises, sharp and hard, filling the passenger area and driver's cabin.  "Company.  Four swoops inbound from the rear, and coming at speed." 

It doesn't seem likely they're travelling salespeople.

"You don't think they're just out for a leisurely drive?" Mark replied. He snickered. The air was thick with all the pollen and bugs.

Mark sat in the gunner's seat. He began to power up the weapon. "Someone check the communications console onboard. We need to know if these guys are solo or if they have support. And I hope they're not Imperials."

Mark keyed the comlink. "We got four swoops closing in on us. Get a visual confirmation if they are Imperials or not."

"If they're Imperials we need to see if we can jam all communications. And take them out." Mark said aloud>

"Knew it wasn't going to be easy.  Oh well, time to see what we can do about these visitors then."

Neary sighs and stirs from where she have been half napping and moves over to peer out the window to see what their new escorts look like.

"Hmm, I could drop them a surprise present if we can just pop the door open for a moment."

She digs into her bag and pulls out something that looks to be a bit on the dangerously explosive side.

"Will do."  Reldan responds to Mark.  With a quick glance over his shoulder, he suddenly cuts back on the throttle, dropping the swoop's speed to a comparative standstill.  It's a risky move, sure, one of the new arrivals might run into him (though he's hoping that they're competent enough to avoid that) or his own swoop might simply fall apart under the stress.

But if it works, he'll be a bit closer to the quartet of new arrivals, and maybe even behind them, which will put them in front of his lasers.

OOC: Reldan Jalt rolled 16 using 3 dice and +2 pips with the WEG Classic system with rolls of {Wild}6(+2),1,5. Swoop driving.

Reldan Jalt drops back for a closer look at the newly arrived swoops.  All four swerve, scattering to avoid a collision.  One of them miscalculates - his swoop clips the bole of a tree and disintegrates in a globe of flame.

The other three swing back onto the road, imitating Jalt's speed reduction, and manage to stay out of his line of fire.

One thing he does manage to spot though, is that they don't look like Imperials.  If anything they look like a typical swoop gang - rogues and outlaws who usually try to make a living from crime.

One of them manages to draw a blaster, and squeezes off a shot at the pilot, but he starts a series of erratic manoeuvres, and the blaster bolt misses entirely...

Rhijans shook his head as he heard Mark wondering about the swoop pilots being Imperials.  Maybe local partisans supporting Imperial forces, he mused to himself.  Imperials would be using armed speeder bikes...or just outright assault speeders...

He was pretty sure he wasn't out-flying them...he definitely wasn't outracing them.  He pulled his heavy blaster and laid it next to his seat.  "Someone want to make use of that?  I'm a little occupied at the moment, and I don't think this is strategically the best time to change drivers..."  He supposed there was a chance it'd actually work in their best interests to bunker down and fight it out with the swoops...but until someone actually gave him some reason to fear they were going to shoot him out of the sky, he was going to rely on just getting there, and hoping that Jalt and Mogg could provide some semblance of escort.  He knew the basics to operate repulsorlifts...but he was nobody's fancy flier.  He'd be more use at the controls of a space transport.

Guess I better work on that, he mused.  If they survived, of course.

Having given her hold-out blaster to Mogg before they left, Shard glances forward at the gun on the seat, one eyebrow raised dubiously.  A heavy blaster - not exactly the sort of long-range weapon suitable for this kind of situation.  A regular blaster would be better...  But beggars can't be choosers - it seems likely the rest of the group has weapons of their own, so she carefully makes her way forward to snag the offering.  "Trust me...I'll give it back."

She hates the things.

Moving to the nearest window, she fits her mask into place.  "Everyone have their masks on?" the older woman shouts across the compartment, unwilling to open the window until she gets an affirmative from all and sundry.
This message was last edited by the player at 21:46, Mon 27 Sept 2010.

Mogg isn't confident the weapon Shard gave him will be of effect, but perhaps it might be enough of a distraction to count. He wouldn't worry much about aiming, except that one of their number flew behind him somewhere, so he turned in his seat and fired.

Rhijans snorted softly to himself at Shard's reassurance.  You better believe you will, he thought, but said nothing.  She didn't seem like the sort to lay claim to someone else's property...at least, not if they were still around to claim it themselves.  And if he wasn't, well, then, it didn't matter much who ended up with his blaster.

He gambled a little bit...flying straight and flat-out at top speed, he figured the vehicle wouldn't be too much trouble while he got his filter mask in place.  He hated the things...hated anything that limited his options for action, really, but like most occasions where such options were demanded, he set his distaste aside since the option of not using it pretty much meant death.  "Good to go," he announced.

Mask in place, Mark pulled his blaster and took position opposite Shard. He opened that window and waited. He needed the swoop to get closer in order for him to get a good shot.

Mark didn't wave the blaster out the window, instead he tried to breathe calmly through the mask and waited.

The transport hurtles along the road through the dense forest, now pursued by three swoops.

Rhijans Thanus concentrates on keeping the vehicle over the road, while Shard borrows his blaster and prepares to defend them from the swoops.  Mark Jacobs moves to the opposite side and takes up a similar position.

In a matter of moments, everybody has their masks on, and it is safe to open a window.

Outside, Reldan Jalt focuses on avoiding blaster fire from one of the attacking swoop riders.  Jihon Mogg attempts to do something a little too clever, twisting around to shoot at a swoop which drops in behind him.  The shot goes wildly astray, and the shift in his centre of gravity almost sends his own swoop into the ground.  Fortunately his assailant seems to be almost as inexperienced as Jihon, and almost flies his own swoop into a tree as he tries to shoot at the besalisk.

Back inside the transport there is a loud bang, and a sudden jolt as blaster fire slams into the hull, without doing any serious damage.

"Well, do we keep it a running gun battle?" Rhijans calls back ovr his shoulder, not daring take his attention from the road.  "Or do you want to bunker down and fight it out?"  Every instinct in him screamed that it was time to turn around and shoot the guy who'd shot at him, but he had to remind himself that he was not the only one involved, here, and someone else could end up losing badly if he gave in to his impulses.

Of course, if it so happened that they agreed with his impulses, then he'd have no qualms whatsoever.

"Keep going. We have a destination to reach." The transport shuddered from a sudden impact, eliciting an angry hiss from the Trandoshan.

"Could go two ways. Either we run into enemy reinforcements, or we throw them off our tails." He turned away from Rhijans to get a better look at their opposition and didn't like what he saw. He was ill-equipped for a gunfight at speed, and his teammates weren't that much better off.

Either massive defense or high-accuracy would win the day, here. For the moment, Shiss put his faith into the accuracy of his comrades and Rhijans' piloting skills. With a deep-throated grumble, he too pushed towards the back of the transport, unholstered his heavy blaster and took aim, ochre eyes blazing.
This message was last edited by the player at 01:45, Mon 04 Oct 2010.

Shard eyes Shisskurr's weapon askance, then turns to take aim out the window.  "Didn't one of you shooters bring a long gun?" she shouts over the turbulence from the open windows.  "In my day, shooters carried blasters or carbines, not these cut-down, rancor-piss-range cannons."  She opens fire with the heavy pistol; not being a shooter herself, she hopes to force the opposition into the fire arc of a more accurate collegue.

"What is it, some kind of compensation issue?"