Welcome to the completely optional freeform IC thread for this game.  Some notes:

THIS THREAD IS COMPLETELY OPTIONAL:  You don't have to participate at all in this thread and won't be penalized if you don't want to.  The whole purpose of this thread is a like a dress rehersal for the game.

THIS THREAD IS LARGELY FREE-FORM:  We are largely bypassing the rules for this thread.  Don't worry if this is not your bag.  The actual game will use the D6 rules and have structure.  Don't worry if your characters haven't been fully statted for this thread, just write what you think they could do.

Here are the basic free-form rules for this thread.
1.  Against NPCs or anything I have created, you can generally just declare victory over challenges within the realm of impossibility.  For example, you can just say you shoot those two stormtroopers or jump that chasm.  Conversely, you can write any challenge to be as complex or as difficult to achieve as you wish.

2.  Against any PC, NPC or other game element made by other players; different rules apply.  If you wish to act offensively against a player-made character or item, let's say you wish to steal a PC's lightsaber, you can INITIATE such an action but the other player DECIDES what happens.

So if your Jedi attempts to slice up their jawa, the jawa's creator gets to decide ARBITRARILY what happens.  This could mean the other player decides your Jedi can't harm their jawa, no matter how little sense this makes in logic or reality.

You may be asking what is the point of a free-form thread where the players can simply declare their characters to be in invulnerable 'God-mode'.  I could write a page on this but, if for no other reason, I will learn just how much a particular player might NEED to win.

YOU CAN ADD OTHER CHARACTERS AND SETTING ELEMENTS TO THE GAME:  I have an entire Galaxy to fill in, I welcome your help!

At the sheer scale of the Star Wars universe, what harm could a player-added character, species, equipment, or even a whole planet do?

Feel free to make anything or anyone.  If your creation is popular, I will try and work it into the game.  One minor caveat; if you want to make a major Sith (or other dark Force-user), please give them a plot reason why they don't mop up the Galaxy with your characters.  You characters can't have the title fight before the game officially starts.

In the same vein, any superior equipment or aliens need a plot reason why they don't show up in the Empire or Rebellion forces more often.

Ask me for help if you need it.

In fact, ask me for help on any of this thread.  It isn't rocket science (barring a Technical roll) and HERE is where we want to make our necessary mistakes.

And here we go...

A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away...

Pangaea was a typical Ithorian herdship, a giant disc filled with the climate zones, flora and fauna of the far-flung worlds of the Galaxy.  Her Alderaan garden had become particularly precious in recent times.  Her ancient and vast hyperdrive engines had coughed up one lurching jump to the Gegenschein asteroid belt.  The local Verpine were quite pleased and not just with the vast machinery of Pangaea.

Now within one of the relatively few systems openly part of the Rebel Alliance, a small reserve base had been setup in a cavernous hanger of Pangaea.  Several starfighters were in various degrees of repair, along with a very distinctive ship.

In the crew lounge, Ali stared at the holocket droid.  The young Twi'lek's face was solely lit by the shimmering blue glow of the hologram as if she was the on the shore of some electric ocean.  A gathering of other faces were around her, some nearby and others holographic.

The tiny locket was in active mode, buzzing around for the best projection viewpoint like some tiny mechanical insect.  The holocket had two identical drones in its network hive.  This allowed three separate groups to operate together.  If the holockets continued to live up to their promise, a few more of the expensive toys could be wrung out of the dear Alliance purse.

"Very well," Ali said, "It looks like we can now divide until three coordinated groups.  I suggest Group A stay here in the hangar, continuing to fix our ship and the star fighters.  Our Y-Wings are coming along nicely.  Group B can stay in the Space Mead Cantina and see if any of our usual contacts will show up.  Group C can continue to search the Alderaan garden to see if that tremor in the Force was more than mere imagination."

"Let's get to it..."

OOC:
1.  Welcome to the first optional IC post of this game.  As you can see, I like to load the end of my posts with all kinds of OOC comments.   As the game continues, these OOC footnotes will get shorter as I will have so much preliminary exposition already listed.
2.  For now, I am not worried about the correct color of spoken text.  I am just bolding speech.  You can color your text as you wish or not.  I am also not currently worried if two characters use the same color for speech.
3.  Your characters are divided into three groups: Group A will have a starship combat encounter, Group B will have a bar fight combat and Group C will have a mysterious non-combat encounter involving the Force, puzzles and character interaction.  Your character can be in any group to start with depending on your preferences.  I will need a Force-sensitive in Group C.  Ali will work in a pinch.
4.  The holocket droids are a creation of my own.  I am seeing if they work in this game.  Essentially, they are very tiny flying droids that offer holopresence with their sibling drones.   They send a holostream of their current location and receieve like streams from their siblings.    In inactive mode, they cling to a neck chain like a tiny locket.  This allows characters to not be separated as often.  Intangible observation and interaction skills can be used across the channel.  For example, a character in one location can use Streetwise skill to another hologroup as long as no physical presence is needed.  There are some modifiers for attempting this across a crude holographic interface (compared to your normal senses) but it is still a bonus.

Let me know what you think.  The holockets can be ditched if they aren't working.

5.  You may have any reasonable equipment on you.  The Ithorians have reluctantly allowed weaponry onboard Pangaea as long as it is being used responsibly.  In addition to your own equipment the Rebellion has gifted you with the following:
a.  Very tiny earpieces (or whatever works for your species) that work with the usual sleeve-mounted commlinks you are also equipped with.  On their own, the dot-coms only have a 3-meter range.  The dot-coms allow characters to continue talking when separated and in action to help speed up action.
b. You each have a medpack, a common blaster of your choice and a common hand weapon of your choice.  You may have common armor that restricts your DEX as much as it boosts your STR for damage rolls.  Typically, the Rebels recommend you don't use armor, look at how badly it works for the stormtroopers.
c. You have 100Cr 'expense' money.
d. Known Jedi artifacts such as lightsabers are legal on this Alliance spacecraft but it is still suggested that you don't advertise your toy.  You won't always be on such safe ground and the Empire has spies everywhere.

6.  OK, that's it!  Go ahead and join in.  This is where you make your mistakes.  Let me know what group your character is in.
Group A is in a large hangar, full of Rebel starfighters.  Your ship is currently being repaired and you are attending to various errands during your few days here.
Group B is in a rough-and-rowdy cantina (at least for Pangaea), more or less just like the Cantina on Tattooine.
Group C is in a park full of Alderaan flora and fauna.  A few days ago, one of your Force-sensitives felt a momentary tremor in the Force here, too quick to be analyzed and it has not been repeated since.  It could be just the imagination of a very-sensitive Force-Sensitive.

Lights, Camera, ACTION!!  Once you get placed, I add the action...

Group C

Thuk launched itself for the next tree with an inner sigh of relief, careful not to push too hard. Even the trees were fragile in these low-G worlds and it didn't want to damage its hosts lair. It didn't think there was anything to the twitch in the Web, but the excuse to get away from the Ithorians was welcome. While they were always polite about it, it could tell that their instincts were screaming 'predator' at them when it was around and that made for uncomfortable interaction.

A few hours hunting the park was a welcome relief.

It will have a commlink and its herb pack.

Orion would of liked to have stayed to see the garden, but he new that it would of been to hard for him to see a replication of a home that will never be again. Besides, he was much more suited to gather information than to seek out the mysteries of the force.

He walked into the Cantina looking the part of just another space gun for hire. The music blared, and the smell of cheap alien liquors filled the air of the cantina. He ordered a Thuris Beer, and moved to a dark corner to have a better over watch of the room. As he sat, he slowly placed his hold out in his lap.

Shira looked around curiously at all the strange, alien plants. She had never been to Alderaan, or seen any plants like this back home. She scampered quickly from one interesting plant to another on her tiptoes, her ghostling dress swirling around her.
"Do we know where that tremor came from?" she asked. She was certain it was something real, as she had great respect for the Jedi. "Mysterious force tremors, how exciting!" she chirped happily.

Group C

GROUP C

TwoOneBee followed behind his shipmates as the explored the Alderaan habitat.  He was quite content to be a guest of the Ithorian people once more, having served Vandru Vahl's herd many standard years ago.  He still considered that time to be the most fulfilling of his existence, at least so far; the experience had left him very well disposed towards the Ithorians as a whole.  As he wandered along, he accessed his extensive data base and began cataloging the various flora and fauna present, paying particular attention to any with medical applications.

The distracted droid was suddenly aware that a a question had been posed.  He scanned his memory for an answer.   "There was no location specified, to the best of my knowledge Ms Shira.  I must agree with your assessment, it is indeed quite inexplicable to this unit, mysterious as you say.  I do so hope you can discover its source."

(TwoOneBee has no need for a blaster or any other weapon.  He happily accepts an extra med pac instead, if that is allowed :-)
This message was last edited by the player at 06:13, Mon 14 Dec 2015.

Celes was always ready for trouble, but wasn't always planning to advertise it. Armor in public areas tended to get attention, as did the more flashy weapons. Her job was just to look out for any of their usual contacts. The more information the team had, the better. This wasn't a heavy combat assignment, so most of the toys stayed on the ship. Her deep red armor, the most distinctive of her gear, definitely stayed behind. The heavy blaster she'd personalized over the years couldn't come, either. Fortunately she wasn't going alone, and backup was a better defense than any blaster could be.

About ten minutes after Orion entered, the green-haired woman followed. Rather than take a corner booth to watch the action, she decided to sit right up at the bar.

"Corellian Sunrise. Thanks." She kept eyes and ears open, but didn't make any show of it. She looked more like a mechanic than much else, with a light tank top and goggles, and pants with so many pockets. What wasn't immediately obvious were the knives and pocket blaster she wore, and the weights in her fingerless gloves.

The spot she chose was in clear line of sight to Orion. If trouble started for either of them, the other wouldn't miss it.

Nate walks into the cantina a short distance behind Celes, and takes a seat one stool over from her, as usual. Logically, close enough to be there with her, far enough that it doesn't give anyone the idea that there's any romance. He lost too many people close to him to be willing to let anyone be more than a good friend.

"One Meltdown, please."

As usual, Nate was wearing his blaster, and black Whispersuit. He carried an aire of a pneumatic piston under pressure. There was a sense that as soon as he was in the room, he knew what everyone was capable of, and whether anyone was a threat. No telling of course whether that was true, and his body-language said nothing of what his judgements if any were.

OOC: Heh, dating myself here, but I haven't seen most of these drink names since the days of AOL chat room cantinas

Also Group B

Zane most likely wasn't the first person to enter, but it nearly seemed like one moment he wasn't there and then in the blink of an eye he was at the bar surrounded by a bunch of regulars.  He hadn't ever visited this particular establishment before, but somehow Zane already looked like a permanent fixture.  He was dressed casually and comfortably, but barely made an attempt to hide the fact he was packing a blaster.  "Gimme something that'll peel the paint off a bulkhead... Preferably make it something that doesn't kill humans either... Get me a Flameout while you're at it so I still have something to drink when I regret my first decision." he said to one of the bartenders.

While Zane waited for his drinks his eyes panned slowly around the room.  Despite appearing to stare through and past everyone he looked at, he was actually mentally calculating threat levels.  The majority of people (at least in his mind) weren't that much of a threat.  Although there were definitely a few individuals or groups that looked like they could do some damage.  Neither group bothered him much, the only people that he was wary of were those that didn't seem to stand out or actively seemed to blend into groups much as he was doing himself.  They were the unknown variables.
This message was last edited by the player at 02:13, Wed 16 Dec 2015.

Onboard the 'Star...

By happy accident, things had worked in Ali's favor.  She didn't have to find an excuse to separate from the group, they had separated from her.  She checked the holockets; one group was at the Cantina, the rest were in the Alderaan garden.   No one seemed to be paying much attention to her.  Still, to cut off the holostream now would be more noticeable than a slight diversion.

She called up another hologram, a Twi'lek botique in the Ryloth garden.  The shimmering shopkeep noticed Ali and asked, "How can I help you, Sister?"  Ali smiled, the title was not familial, just an acknowlegement of the bond of species they both shared.

"My master wishes me to buy lekku muzzles.  He feels that I talk to much to my own kind."  The clerk nodded and pointed to a holographic display with long tubes of fabric, Ali choked down her rage at her 'sisters' indifference to selling slave's livery.  "Which would fit my lekku the best?" She asked the merchant.  At the merchant's study of her lekku, Ali began to use them.

^Sister, I have need of information you may possess.  I can pay you well for it.^  Ali used her lekku to subtly signal to the other.  It was believed that only fellow Twi'leks could understand this secret form of expression.  With some work, both DeeJay and the Jedis could also understand when their senses were maginified.  Ali doubted these incredibly subtle micro-changes of the lekku would be conveyed over the rastering holostream for even the enlightened non-Twi'lek. ^You will find what I have worth the considerable price I ask for...Sister.^ came the other's reply.  Ali nodded and left the 'Star.


In the Cantina, the Ghostling male was trying to be noticed.  The standard gravity here was crushing him.  Even the slight brushing of other aliens might bruise him.  He sat in a corner and drank his blue milk.  Even ordering that mild drink had drawn too much attention at the bar.  A shadow fell over him, several shadows.  A strange alien bellow was directed at him.  Before he could protest, the brutalist cyborg next to him said, "He doesn't (Buzz) like you.  I don't like you either.  You should watch yourself, we have (Whirr) the death sentence in fifteen systems."  The stranger waved his chunky cybernetic arms to indicate his fellow hybrids, uneasy combinations of scarred flesh and repurposed industrial metal.

"I'll be careful." The trembling ghostling whispered.
"You'll be DEAD!!" The leader cried out, about to smite the youngster with a pneumatic fist...

The garden was beautiful.  Before the Death Star, it was just a mere curiosity.  A little terrarium made up of typical flora and fauna from Alderaan.  There were bits of old architecture and ruins scattered about with care but not true insight.  Ithorians were too fretful to be true poets.  Not long ago, merely visiting this planet-tarium was a tacit admission that you did not have the means or social standing to go to Alderaan proper.

Now the garden was priceless, a tiny bit of Alderaan that survived besides precious memories.  For a time DeeJay had played back her audio recollections of walking through the malls and parks of Alderaan long ago.  The sound of children laughing and babbling brooks seemed to have an unexpected melancholy on the souls she passed so she soon enough stopped broadcasting her memories externally.  She had thought that evocation of the past would cheer bystanders but the result had been quite unexpected.  The living were so unpredictable and unbinary.

Around a evocative clump of topiary, a small clump of sentients became visible.  They were a mix of the more common species of this sector, predominately Human, Ithorian, or Verpine.  All of the them were clustered around an elderly human woman in loose-fitting robes.  Her hair, like most human females, had been done up into two rolls, one over each ear.  The 'buns of steel' had become a badge of defiance for those women who remembered Alderaan or at least its destruction.

"Mistress Ita-Kon?" asked one of them.  "Does the Force tell us the Rebellion will be successful."  The old woman closed her eyes but somehow seemed to be looking far away as well.  "The future is always in motion but, yes, the Rebellion will be successful.  Victory will come at a great cost.  Our task is to minimize that cost, each in our own way."  Her answer seemed to mollify the others, enough that Ita-Kon whispered, "Octave."

Hearing its name, a small creature, some kind of arthropod with big, shining eyes scuttled forth and presented each visitor with the tiny pouch it held with its mandibles.  Bit by bit, worn coins, trinkets and some foodstuffs were placed in the bag by those gathered.  "Thank you, my friends, this will help the padawans in their sanctuary."

"Such a noble cause, helping a Jedi master with the training of the next generation.  I feel compelled to ask how I could be of assistance."  They all turned at the words.  A young man strode forth to join the circle around Ita-Kon, his eyes were covered by some strange googles that seemed unnecessary in the garden environment of the Alderaan garden and he seemed a little overdressed for the mild artificial Alderaan spring day...

OOC:
1.  Each group has a hololocket droid that follows you around.  It can fly and is broadcasting a holostream of what its other siblings are perceiving.  You can see what is going on with your separated party members.
2.  Having read the opening paragraphs, the players know that Ali is off on some strange mission of her own.  But the characters would have a hard time reading her lekku-speak over the relatively crude holostream.  Anyone with a character connection to her (which could be any PC) can probably suspect something is up from her body language.  Pursue this plot thread only if you want to.  It is not critical to the adventure.
3.  The head cyborg in the Cantina is Cornelius Evazan, last seen in two pieces in the Mos Eisley Cantina in Episode IV.  You probably thought he died but then you probably thought Han shot first too. ;-)  Obviously, he has had some bad luck of late.  He has barely survived his run-in with Kenobi and he has used his medical skills to replace most of himself with badly-configured cyberware.  He has surrounded himself with other losers who also were wretched enough to want 'upgrading.'
4.  Evazan and his merry mandroids are simply looking for a fight.  They will not particularly notice any of the PCs unless the PCs make themselves noticed.  But could a Jedi allow this injustice?
5.  For those who wish to run a combat, Evazan is currently surrounded by one cyborg per PC.  It is a simple move action to get to them or for them to get to you (no  roll needed but a 1D penalty to other actions this round).  Your side has won initiative.  The cyborgs are 2D in all stats and 4D in any relevant bruiser skills (including brawling).  Their knock-off cyberware gives them a +1D Strength but a -!D Dexterity.  Their cyberforms may have impressive built-in weaponry that will malfunction as often as it works.   For your next post only, only run a combat between your PC and ONE cyborg.  You cannot get to Evazan this round.
6.  If you wish, you may simply decide how the combat between you and your single cyborg opponent ends.  None of the single cyborgs are a match for any of your PCs.  Surprisingly, there is a 'bar brawl etiquette' throughout the Galaxy.  It is quite gauche to respond to a non-lethal punch with a lethal attack.  Once a lethal attack is offered, lethal responses can be expected.   Evazan's initial mistake was trying to draw a blaster on Kenobi.
7.  In the Alderaan garden, no character has detected a tremor in the Force which means Ita-Kon is either no Jedi or a very, very good one.  Octave is like a meter-around big-eyed jumping spider and utterly cute in a creepy way.  Imagine Lucas has designed Octave to sell toys (as he did just about everything else).
8.  Questions, just ask.  Don't sweat any of this.  This is just dress rehearsal...

Celes was busy. This wasn't the time to get involved in somebody else's problems. Draw too much attention and their contacts would steer well clear. She took a long sip from her drink, then set it down and looked over, one elbow still on the bar.

"Hey, did you just say you're all wanted men?" Celes extended a finger and a sly smile, probably aided by the drink.

"You don't wanna play with that kid. How about you come over here and play with me? I got a thing for wanted men." This was exactly the reason she'd fallen in with the Rebellion. Just couldn't leave well enough alone.

Naturally, any of the thugs who decided to take her up on the suggestion were going to quickly find themselves with a fist in their face, but that was the price one paid.

[We get one cyborg minion each? Mine will be approaching Celes. I have a face to punch.

23:24, Today: Celes Varik rolled 22 using 4 dice and +2 pips with the WEG Classic system with rolls of {Wild}4,6,6,4.  Brawling, now with D6 Classic.

Sorry, I rolled twice. First had no system and didn't record each die, and didn't know how you wanted to handle the Wild Die (first die rolled was a 6). So I switched to D6 Classic and Record Each Die. If you wanna go with the 17, that's fine by me, and I doubt it'd make much difference.

23:31, Today: Celes Varik rolled 17 using 4 dice and +4 pips with the WEG Classic system with rolls of {Wild}5,5,1,2.  Combat Gloves Damage.

I'll let the GM handle cyborg actions and such. I dun feel comfortable with that today. :P]

Shira gasped at the holofeed from the bar. At first she was excited to see one of her people; ghostlings were very rare of Datar. But she winced to see the fight break out. She knew better than most just how badly a brawl could damage a ghostling. She whished she could help, but she was too far away, and anyways even Shira's best punch would hurt her far worse than any opponent.

She regarded Ita-Kon with a curious expression, a common expression on Shira's face.
She straightened up, smoothed out her skirt and pulled her shawl around her as she watched; she had the highest respect for Jedi. And this woman was surely old enough to be one of the Order's masters.

"Oh, how wonderful!" she sang out when Ita-Kon predicted the Rebellion would win the war. "I'm sure lots of people will help out." Shira was optimistic by nature, but the Empire could feel impossibly powerfully sometimes. Shira had only known one world growing up; it was hard to even imagine the power of something as large as the Empire. Ita-Kon's words encouraged her natural disposition and lessened her worries.

She began to step forward when Octave came forward for donations, but stopped. Shira was a bit naive, so she relied on her companions to tell her when something was up. "May I, TwoOneBee?" she asked sweetly.

She was startled by the appearance of the mysterious stranger, and her mind began to concoct exciting and implausible scenarios as to who he might be.

For it to join the herd below would result in the fear that it was avoiding, so Thuk merely watched the gathering curiously from the nearest tree. If it understood the dynamics correctly, the steel-bun alien was claiming to be a Weaver with apprentices to keep and the goggles alien was challenging her to prove it. This should be interesting.

It opened itself to the Web, tracing the lines that ran through those involved.

In reply to Celes Varik (msg # 11):
Nate expected this response from Celes. That's the way they work together. She draws the attention, and he hits then where they least expect. He slips his left hand to his holster, and sets for stun, while seeming to be interested only in his drink. As soon as one is close enough to him, he stands up with drink in hand,  I'm going to find a quieter place to drink. As he turns, he smashes the cup into the head of the closest cyborg. "Sorry, sir, I didn't notice you there, let me help you up."

TwoOneBee considered the Ghostling's question carefully, then formulated a reply.

"Of course Ms Shira, it has been this unit's experience that any act of kindness, in moderation, is almost always worthwhile.  Do be careful of the unspecified arthropod, however..."

As soon as the goggle clad young man appeared, TwoOneBee became concerned.  After working with organics for so very many years he had learned to recognize the subtle nuance of tone and body language.  It seemed unlikely the young man had good intentions towards the lady, Ita Kon, which meant Ms Shira could also come to harm if she came between them and was relieved when he noted her hesitation.

His focus shifted to the unfolding situation and what, if anything, he should do about it.  He decided to wait, for the moment, until he had more data with which to make a decision.

Shira nodded to TwoOneBee, grateful for his advice. "I'll be careful." She stepped forward, curtsied to Ita-Kon and donated a few credits. "What are your skills? I'm sure there's some way you can help." she said to the goggle-clad young man. She was curious to know more about him

Orion watched as the his group descended on the wanted man, and his cyborg companions. Normally, he would of taken much more lethal action, but that would draw the authorities attention. It was best to see if it could be resolved without gunfire or property. "The ghostling is with me. If you choose to continue. You will not survive to be wanted in 16 systems. Live die the choice is yours."

Orion stood up slowly walking towards the group like an old west shootist. He had an intensity in his eyes, and a steel like resolve that made it obvious that he was not bluffing. He slowly opened his jacket revealing his heavy blaster slung low in a quick draw holster.


OOC: Intimidation roll 36.

05:24, Today: Orion Pax rolled 5 using 1d6 with rolls of 5.  roll wild again.

05:24, Today: Orion Pax rolled 6 using 1d6 with rolls of 6.  wild die roll on 6.

05:23, Today: Orion Pax rolled 25 using 5d6 with rolls of 5,3,5,6,6.  Intimidation last die is wild.
(Was not certain how to reroll wild, so I did individually.)

Nimbus was quietly praying to the gods of the Ghostlings, suddenly a convert.  He also sent a few other silent prayers to any other deity who might be listening.  And there was always trusting to the Force.

A quartet of mandroids had each grabbed a limb of the slight young man and were considering making a wish.  It was then that the green-haired young human (close enough?) woman had teased the other men, if they were still men.  One of the cyborgs moved toward Celes.  "I think I'm man enough for you where it counts, wench."  And he tried to lay a possessive hand on the young lady.

Two fast blows from the woman left the cyborg groaning and fetal on the ground.  He had been a man where it counted.  With that, Nimbus was dropped to the ground as the clanking borgs prepared to avenge their fallen comrade. The impact had knocked the fragile boy out.  He last look was at the vision across the holographic vision.  "Heaven", he muttered to Shira's gaze just before losing consciousness.

One of the cyborgs swore he would drink to this brawl later.  But it was sooner as Nate served him a glass at the speed of a fist.  As the mechaman fell next to his fellow, Nate consoled himself that Ithorian drinks were just too timid to really miss.

Evazan moved forward to restore the honor of his fallen comrades.  A lie, really, he just had always enjoyed hurting people.  Surgery was the most elegant way but there was something to be said for the simplicity of a cruel beating.  There was suddenly a man in his way, smoothly revealing a blaster pistol in the smooth some creatures showed their claws.  "Blasters..." Evazan said, trailing off.  He remembered a blaster long ago, and the whoosh and thrum of an ancient and unexpected weapon in the hands of a true master.  He hesitated, and then ran screaming "No blasters, no blasters1"  The other cyborgs began to leave the bar as easily as they were allowed to, some crawliing.


Shira was distracted, seeing the poor swain fall, too far from her except to see.  "I, too, am optimistic seeing this aged warrior, little Ghostling."  The young man said, smiling at Shira, not noticing or caring about the holofeed..  "I'm sure many will rabble to your rabble, great lady.  Especially if you were to demostrate your mighty Jedi powers."  A tiny donated coin of Shira's began to lift up from the ground.  It spun in the air, the light side and dark side of it tumbling over each other.

"As you can see, my own gifts are quite minor.  For example, I have not detected the slightest ripple in the Force from you these past few minutes, old woman.  Perhaps we could...spar?"  For a moment, a twitch of fear showed across Ita-Kon's face.  Her pet Octave scuttled between the newcomer and its master, either offering or demanding protection.

By and large, the audience seemed unaware of the sudden change in the situation.  Perhaps they thought that Ita-Kon's demonstration of her Force powers would be a little more interesting today.  Perhaps this was some kind of morality play?

The power and corruption of this weaving was like the stench of carrion to Thuk.  There was also a tang of arrogance this new Weaver was exuding.  Was he foolhardy or truly that powerful?

OOC:
1.  My apologies for taking so long to return to this thread.  We can continue this thread as time permits if people wish.  You can assume that this thread takes place some time before the actual game thread.  It could be a day, week, month or year before as the group wishes.
2.  As this was a practice thread, you can assume that your characters make it out of the thread safe and sound before travelling to the actual game proper.  Knowing that, ultimately, your characters are unharmed at the end of this encounter make it a low priority.
3.  If you like any of the elements of this thread, I can work them into the game proper.  You might visit the Pangaea again or get Nimbus or Ita-Kon to the cause of Rebellion.  Let me know what you think.
4.  Don't worry about rules for this rest of this thread.  It is moving towards a conclusion.

After the punches, Celes's fists arced electricity across the glowing knuckles. She looked ready to move on to another target, particularly at Evazan, until he turned and ran. That was odd. Since it looked like the other cyborgs took their cue, that seemed to be the end of it.

"Huh. Big talk. No payday here..." A casual press of a button on each of her gloves discharged the energy and left them looking like little more than ordinary gloves again. It looked like she'd have to leave dealing with contacts to Orion, as the rest of them had called far too much attention. Celes crossed over to where the ghostling had been knocked out, pushing a few onlookers away so she could get a better look at him. Medicine had never been her strong suit, but it was obvious he was frail and hurt. A quick but gentle scoop and she was ready to carry him off.

"Medical facility. Now." It didn't matter who she was talking to. It was anyone and everyone all at once. But mostly it was Nate.

Nate glances over at Celes, the look asking a silent question, go after the fleeing cyborgs and collect the bounty for the entire gang, or sweep up the trash still in the bar, and tend to the unconscious ghostling. Waiting for the response, he has already stooped over to put binders on the two nearest him and his partner.

After getting her response, Nate leaves the two laying there in binders, and moves over next to Celes, to pick up the ghostling, "Which way?"
This message was last edited by the player at 15:55, Wed 13 Jan 2016.

Thuk reeled in his weave, tasting it as his mouth widened in a predators closed-mouth grin. As he had thought, the 'pet' was the Weaver of the two, with Ita-Kon just the mouth-piece. Naturally checks had shown no sign of it, they were looking for humans or at least humanoids, but to Thuk they were all aliens and he wasn't distracted by its form. He tested the connection between Ita-Kon an Octave, mildly surprised to find genuine affection there there on both sides. So, she was not using it, they were helping each other. Of course, it couldn't talk, could it? That explained much.

Hmm, to intervene would imply that Octave could not fight it's own battles, and he had no reason to insult it. On the other hand, if Goggles drew too deeply on the Dark side, his packmate was at risk there. Perhaps a minor intervention, and he brought his com up to his face, careful not to touch it. "Com, voice message to Shira."
"Shira, this is Thuk. The goggles alien is using the Dark Side. Please move clear."
"End message, Com off."

Shira snapped her attention back to the man in front of her, though worried about her fellow ghostling. Even she could tell this man was challenging Ita-Kon, and she didn't like it. He seemed like a bully. "Do you often spar with old women? That doesn't seem very brave" she asked. She was going to continue, but she heard Thuk's message. It drew a soft "Eep!" from the ghostling, and she backed off, though remained not too far from Ita-Kon. "What should we do?" she whispered into her comlink to Thuk. She still wanted to help, if she could.

"Com on, reply.
"There isn't much that we can do without offering insult. Just be ready if it looses. Oh, and by the way the most dangerous creature I ever met was wizened, tiny and had more wrinkles than fur. Such things matter little to a Weaver. Do not judge by appearance."

Orion allowed his coat to gently fall closed over his heavy blaster. He had drawn to much attention to himself, but he was not one not to finish a task. He simply returned to his table in the corner. The next few minutes would tell if the authorities had been alerted.

The medical droid steps up beside Shira to give her support, and to provide a shield in case things go amiss.  He regards the goggled man, scanning his data files on humanoid psychology.  Even though he was familiar with millions of cultural mores, organics were sometimes still an enigma to the old bot.

"I can perceive no reason for conflict in this situation." TwoOneBee suggests, turning in the direction of the newcomer.  "We are guests after all, and therefore should behave responsibly.  Is there some reason we cannot collectively appreciate the beauty of this biosphere the Ithorians have worked hard to create?"