Minor edits to keep the correct facts together.

Making sure that no one else was going to interrupt them or find about this, Tehrk began to speak to the group.

"Alright, so while I was upside-down and crooked in every direction out there, some boxes came toppling onto me. Might not be anything important, but I found a datapad in one of the boxes. It was addressed to Ulu Teem and said that the shipper hoped Jabba was satisfied with the speed of the delivery. It was hidden in a box of spice that's on board the freighter ship there.

Now, I don't know what he's thinking, because I don't transport spice. I don't deal in that kind of junk, so why he'd have my logo on these crates makes me curious. Beyond that, there was a massive amount of spice. No less in a specially sealed crate. The datapad was hidden underneath some of the spice packages. That's all I have, but I figured the rest of you would want to know."

It particularly troubled him to know that Jabba was involved somehow, though he wasn't sure in what method. Let alone that a crate like this was using his logo, it was certainly going to be an issue for himself later on.

[Private to Tehrk Ridonal: Tehrk, a few ways a crate of yours could have landed as a drug crate... Could have been reused, could have been a fake box, or it's an original and somoe from your company packed it up]
This message was last edited by the GM at 23:59, Sat 09 July 2011.

"Your logo?" The Chiss inquires, not having recognized any connection between the logo and his companion. Not waiting for an answer, he does follow-up with: "Don't suppose you still have that Datapad?"

"Yes, MY logo. I run a salvage business back on Coruscant. Ridonal Sect Three. That's the logo I made, though it was back when I was younger. I took it anyway and ran with it this far.

As for the datapad, no, I don't have it. I did mark the crate easily enough, however. To boot, there wasn't much on it other than the message. The crate's probably a reused crate since most of my deliveries involve having the crate destroyed and sent back once they arrive at the destination. That's my guess. If you want the datapad, I can show you which crate it's in... I'm just don't think Pug-boy would like us snooping through his deliveries."

Waiting to see if anyone else had questions, Tehrk wasn't exactly going to let things sit for long, though he couldn't just jump out at anything yet. He'd take Chemosh to the crate if need be, though only Chemosh; the entire group going might cause a bit of a problem.

"Anyone else got a question? Concerns? Insight even?"

Eso makes a face into her armour as she scratches her chin with her shoulder. Her arms are crossed over her chest. "Any idea why Ulu Teem would be getting this kind of shipment?"



Edited to cover for my stupidity
This message was last edited by the player at 05:34, Tue 12 July 2011.

Tervax added a question to that of Eso:  "Or why he would use your company's insignia?  No doubt Jabba will want to know who that logo belongs too and try to find out everything about you to see if you're worth doing anything with as a company."

In reply to Eso Terra (msg #246):

Nonsense.. It's easy to forget the mission objectives..! :)

[Private to Eso Terra: You get the idea that Ulu might be a spice / drug dealer. The fact that Tehrk's shipping co seems involved without his apparen knowledge might mean that someone's pulling the whool over his eyes, or that it's just a reused crate.]

"My guess... Illegal cargo. Can't say what, but that probably goes without saying. I can't give actual details of my own since I'm still thinking it through myself, but the notion is enough for me to want some answers.

As for my logo there, the crate itself may have been recycled. Those electronic crates are used to transport delicate items usually, stuff that could break easily or that might be dangerous. Annoyingly difficult to crack on a normal day, someone wasn't watching themselves properly, so I was able to break it. Jabba won't be able to do much since I work through the Ridonal family... They don't take nicely to threats from anyone. Besides, Jabba's no problem in any other situation; I'm just a salvage operations manager, I'm clean as well, so anything illegal like weapons or drugs are well out of my league and not worth his time.

I think the best method would be to ask Ulu himself, though that's just one idea. We could get the records for shipment and find out a bit more of where it came from even and who sent it. Figure that out and we'd likely be able to get more of an idea on the recent pirate attack we just dealt with."

Tervax nodded.

"Understandable, and a good plan.  We don't need anything getting in the way of locating our subject.  Was that the only thing you needed?"

"Or, we could just do both." Chemosh suggests, figuring they've got time to research before they meet up with their contact anyways.

"That was all... I just figured letting you all know would be best since one of us suddenly running off would only invite more trouble."

[Done with RP'ing for this portion]

As the meeting died down, the pilots quickly return to their fighters and you eventually arrive beat up, but alive, to Koshibal and soon feel the humm of the Comet's landing gear extending and the gentle thump as she lands gracefull on the platform. Followed by its two escorts.

Eager to get you off his ship, sell his cargo and leave, Pugwis is soon outside. Moments later as you amble down the loading ramp, you walk into the midst of an argument between Pugwis, and the local dockmaster.

It hasn't taken long for the curses to fly. Apparently, the local port authority's dockmaster isn't being cooperative and is demanding a landing fee that Pugwis refuses to pay, as well as a ship and passenger manifest and cargo inspection that Pugwis refuses to allow. "There's never been a krifing fee or an inspection before..." he growls, as he glares at Vertuba accusingly, but the dockmaster smugly agrees: "Well that was then, now times here are hard, and this is the "new policy" instituted by the docking guild. I can always impound her..." he suggested.
This message was last edited by the GM at 12:01, Sat 16 July 2011.

Chemosh' eyes narrow. The red slits promising no shortage on annoyance at the prospect of his name appearing on a general crew manifest. He stalks overtothe conversation. "Pardon the interuption gentlemen, but in all seriousness... what's the issue here? Has security been increased on the planet to warrant the increased fees and questions... or is this merely an issue of sufficient credits in hard times?" The noble-seeming passenger asks, politely trying to insert himself into the debate of price versus perks.

[Private to GM:
Any chance Chemosh knows of any big names locally he might drop for added influence?
12:43, Today: Secret Roll: Chemosh rolled 15 using 1d20+09 with rolls of 6. Knowledge - Beaurocracy.

Persuasion roll to be brought into the conversation without drawing ire
12:43, Today: Secret Roll: Chemosh rolled 14 using 1d20+11 with rolls of 3. Persuasion.
]

The dockmaster looks at Chemosh, wondering what sort of species he is and probably settling on something close to Duros or Neimoidian cross bread. He smirks, "As I was explaining to the good captain, the docking fee is 500 credits, and I'm instructed to verify the ship's passenger and cargo lists too, as well as inspect to ensure that someone hasn't a... miscounted crate or the likes."


[Private to Chemosh: With such basic rolls, you know that the Hutts now claim the local space, which one though is something you can only guess at.]

"Ah. I see. If I might have a word in private then?" He asks of the dockmaster, sliding an arm around his shoulders and steering him away from the volatile captain so that he might have his sole attention.

"Such fee's are completely understandable, especially in these dark times. The Hutt's... business men such as you and I can relate on suffering the brunt of these ridiculous tarriffs and taxations just to keep those oversized slugs off of our respective backsides, no? It doesn't matter that distinguished and respectable captains, such as Pugwis here, frequent our ports regularly and keep us afloat. It doesn't matter that in the past his cargo has always been above reproach, or even that his current passenger manifest are all upstanding citizens of Hutt controlled space. To our overbearing masters, a savy cargo haulers tight time table matters not a whit unless it's THEIR cargo being held up, or their personal slaves detained. We won't even start in on the uncompromising nature of our customers, and their own budgetary concerns as they attempt to haggle away our every credit!

"No. What matters, at the end of the day, are the Credits. Am I right, or am I right?" Chemosh grins, pulling back a sleeve to reveal the display of his wristcom. There, on the display, is a bank transmit display already featuring a withdrawl of 2K credits, just awaiting an account number to transfer it to. He shows it to the dockmaster, and indicates that he might enter in his account number of choice... "To business men such as us, it's credits that make the world go round."

[Private to GM:
13:22, Today: Secret Roll: Chemosh rolled 29 using 1d20+11 with rolls of 18. Persuasion.]

The dockmaster nearly chokes when he sees the amount and quickly takes out his credstick to synch it with Chemosh's to complete the transaction. "I... ahh... quite the convincing argument, sir. I won't be troubling you any further, sir. Pugwis, I noticed some ahh... damage... I'll have someone take a look at it for you," he says with a nod before quickly disappearing from view before Chemosh can decide to take back some of the credits he's just parted with.

Pugwis seems impressed, but appears concerned. "Thanks, but I doubt I'll never come back to this blasted place again..." he grumbles and starts inspecting the haul damage they sustained. "You be careful, Koshibal might only have one active settlement, the rest of 'em having long been dismantled or left to decay. This place ain't a picnic either... the worst areas are really bad... incidently, most of the business is done out of the Legitimate Businessman's Cantina, you should be able to find it easily enough if you stay close to the port..."

The smile Chemosh gives the dock master is one that silently says: 'Of course you will.' "Your discretion and generosity shall ever be on my mind when I speak to my colleagues about this planet, of this I can assure you." He says though, adding a little more sugar to the icing.

When the dock master moves on to take care of things, and Pugwis thanks him: "Your advice is noted, and appreciated. In return, allow me to offer some of my own: Off-load your cargo, legal and not, as quickly as possible. Credits can never do much but mitigate greed. Sooner or later, he'll be looking for angles to make more... I'd advise that when such occurs, you have nothing in your possession to attract undue notice.

"I'd also suggest keeping an eye on the repairs being preformed... Dark Times and all." With that, the exotic blue skinned man offers his hand in parting. Per their instructions, Pugwis wasn't bound to wait around for them, and Chemosh wouldn't ask him to. If, when the time came to leave, he WAS around then he would make an ideal candidate for such an extraction. If not, well, he was just another contact in Republic Space that Chemosh could consider himself on sufficiently good enough terms with to call on in a time of need.

If there is a nearby public terminal, Chemosh will sync up with it and download any and all pertinent information on the planet (especially of the settlement they're currently in~ Maps, Points of Contact, Reviews, Notes, etc).

Tervax watched the blue-skinned alien work his magic and smiled to himself under the T-shaped visor of his helmet.  The guy was good, he'd give him that.  Tervax had no problem admitting he would've started blasting, or at least paid the guy.  He shrugged mentally and checked their surroundings automatically, looking for anything out of the ordinary.

Once Chemosh was done and rejoined the crew, Tervax looked over and said, "Destination for our contact?"

In reply to Chemosh (msg #259):

[Private to Chemosh: You easily find a terminal as well as the Legitimate Businessman Cantina's location. It's not very far away.]
This message was last edited by the GM at 20:04, Mon 18 July 2011.

A 3D wireframe map of the settlement aapears an inch above the Chiss'es wrist, projected there by the built in holo-projector. "The Legitimate Businessman Cantina would be my supposition..."

Moving you all along...

As a former mining colony of little importance, Koshibal now has only one active settlement. The rest having long been dismantled or having been left to decay. Signs of the rot are apparent even in the current settlement, but Chemosh adroitly circumnavigates the worst areas and leads you to the "Legitimate" Businessman’s Cantina.

Judging by its looks, the legit side of the place is probably as crooked as the Cantina's door sign. Your suspicions are quickly confirmed as soon as you pass through the front doors.

Leaving the bright and warm sun's comfort behind, you quickly enter the Cantina's smoky and music-filled atmosphere. It takes a few minutes for your eyes to readjust to the Cantina's dim lighting, but at a first glance you notice that the cantina is populated by scoundrels and smugglers of all types and is rather busy considering the time of the day. A band plays in one of the corners, and the large bar is manned by a large looking human with tussled red hair.

Chemosh eyes the cantina crowd warily. Were he alone, he'd approach this scenerio far differently... as it was, he was attached to a cadre of the Republics finest. Each with strengths and weaknesses of their own, none of which seemed any more suited to locating their contact in this den of inequity any more than himself... and yet he'd just handled the situation at the docks. If he were to continue to put himself forward in such manners, some might start to consider him a leader. Can't be having that now, at least not unless it becomes convenient at some point.

So, he does what a dutiful republic citizen usually does in such a situation (at least in so far as his research on Republic Society indicated)... and turns to the Jedi. "What do you think Jedi? Think your hookey powers can ferret out our contact, or should we do this the obvious and old fashioned way?"

Tervax glanced around the room, looking for Ulu Teem in the off chance he was actually in the cantina and saving them the trouble of having to ask around.  At that moment, helmet electronics decided to futz out and go completely blank, cutting off all audio and visual enhancement.

He looked over at Chemosh and said, "My electronics are acting up.  I'm going to step outside for a moment."

OOC:
09:58, Today: Tervax rolled 8 using 1d20+7 with rolls of 1. Perception.

Ouch.

"I don't know what you're talking about. I'm no Jedi. I'm just a simple merc. The tried and true method is probably the best." She says coolly and for the benefit of anyone close enough to be listening.

The trip here had taken longer than she wanted and things that shouldn't bother her had been getting on her nerves. The thought of what she should be doing was never far from her mind. This silly quest that Master Skywalker had her on was rediculous, though she'd never let the counsel know that she felt that way. They'd probably retract her invitation to train if they found out.

Chemosh arches an eyebrow, it's accompanying expression isn't an amused one.

08:58, Today: Tehrk Ridonal rolled 24 using 1d20+9 with rolls of 15. Perception

As Tehrk was savoring the moment a little less than most, he decided to hang back momentarily to let the rest of them enter first. A brief pause and Tervax came out, which was Terhk's moment to enter. Doing so, he seemed to move past Chemosh and Eso with barely more than a glance, his eyes seemingly fixed on one particular region of the Cantina. Standing still momentarily so that his eyes could adjust a bit more, Tehrk believed he saw something that they were looking for, though to be certain...

A brief step back, a small lean and to Chemosh and Eso,

"If I had to guess anything, then based on the layout and generally pleasant atmosphere, whoever we'd want to look for just might be in that nice little area over there. Not saying they're over there, it's just that the smoke in that area's not as thick as it is over here and the alcohol over there looks a bit less...

Polluted, should I say."