The party depart 'Spare Credits' shortly after their transaction with Kardul is concluded, finding nothing of particular interest to them in the store. They then begin to make their way in the direction of Alruun's apartment.

"After we pay this Alruun for altering the ship's ID code, we shall split the remainder equally between us," Bane informs the party in general. Upon glancing at Sella, he seems to feel the need to clarify just who the term 'us' refers to, "That is, you two, Zirak and Sora, myself and R5. And I suggest the first thing you do, Sora, is purchase a new outfit. Not that pau’an mining outfits don’t suit you..."

Sora shoots Bane a scowl.

Ziraks smirks, pleased that Sella is being left out of the divisions.

"I, too, wish to purchase a new outfit. Do they sell anything dark and dramatic and Sith-like around here?" he enquires.

"It's Denon," Bane replies, "You can get practically any outfit here, if you search hard enough."

It takes the four of them the best part of an hour of winding their way through the crowded streets of Denon to reach the apartment belonging to Alruun Darros. The door to the apartment is open, and the duros stands behind a cluttered workbench, fiddling with a processor and muttering to himself in Durese. A refurbished droideka sits, coiled up at present, by the far wall. Alruun glances up as the party enter, his eyes narrowing at the sight of the party's attire; Bane and Zirak, covered in scorch marks, Sella covered in dust, and Sora wearing a mining outfit that was clearly not made for him, if the bursting seams at his waste and the ten-centimeter-too-long sleeves are anything to go by.
This message was lightly edited by the GM at 03:06, Mon 09 Apr 2018.

"What do you want?" he asks doubtfully.

"We," says Bane, striding in, "Wish to get our ship's ID code changed. And we were told you were the one to do it."

Alruun's eyes narrow even further.

"Were you now?"

"Yes," says Bane, withdrawing the credit chip, "You are Alruun, are you not?"

"I-" Alruun's eyes alight on the credit chip, "am."

"Excellent," says Bane, "Now, we require our ship's ID to be altered to 'Malar's Fist'."

"I still think 'Kau'dan's Legacy' is a more fitting name," Sora murmurs stubbornly.

"Because that will really help us to avoid be associated with the collapse of the city," Bane mutters back dryly.

Sora doesn't seem to have considered this.

"You have a point."

"And if you spread any rumors about this by the way, Duros," adds Zirak, glancing suspiciously at Alruun, who is following the murmured conversation intently, "You will share the fate of that city."

"I," says Alruun without a hint of sincerity, "am the soul of discretion. Now," he continues brightly, his mood much improved by the sight of the credit chip, "Changing an ID signal is not easy, and certainly not legal. You must pay me ten thousand credits."
This message was last edited by the player at 23:43, Thu 23 Nov 2017.

Zirak has looked at Bane expectantly.

Bane has looked back at him.

"Hmm, I wonder how much that rodian we asked would charge to do it?" he says.

OOC: Bane Malar rolled 15 using 1d20+7. Bluff.

"What rodian?" Sora asks blankly.

OOC: Sora Bulq rolled 12 using 1d20+1. Sense Motive.

Bane shoots him what is doubtlessly a dark glare from under his helmet.

"Like I said," Alruun follows the glance to Sora with a satisfied smile, "Ten thousand credits."

Bane mutters something inaudible, though Zirak thinks he catches 'weequay' in there somewhere. He then turns back to Alruun.

"Very well. But it had better work."

Alruun reaches out a hand to take the codecard offered to him by Bane. He then inserts it into his computer, and spends the next quarter of an hour working on the card, immersed in his work. At length he rises, satisfied.

"There. That should do it. Your ship is now 'Malar's Fist'."

OOC: Alruun Darros rolled 22 using 1d20+18. Forgery.
This message was last edited by the player at 00:00, Fri 24 Nov 2017.

Bane takes it with a satisfied nod.

"Excellent."

Turning, he leads the way out of the shop and back in the direction of the ship. Once again, Sora, Zirak and Sella note that the bounty hunter seems very familiar with the streets of this district. They pass by neon lit nightclubs, graffiti covered alleyways and over decaying skybridges. As before, few beings pay them any notice. At length they once more reach the complex in which their ship is docked, and are soon back on board.

Bane passes the codecard to R5, who examines it for a minute or two before giving a beep of indignation.

"Beep-boopity-dweep!"

OOC: R5-D3 rolled 24 using 1d20+15. Detect Forgery.
This message was last updated by the player at 23:55, Thu 14 Dec 2017.

"I'll kill him, I'll kill him..." Bane mutters, snatching back the card and storming out of the ship, "Sora," he adds as he departs, "Wait here. R5, you're coming with us."

R5, who seems to feel this is a much more appropriate delegation of party responsibilities, beeps smugly, trundling after Bane.
This message was last updated by the player at 23:55, Thu 14 Dec 2017.

"There's no need to be wasteful," Zirak calls to Bane as he hurries after the bounty hunter, "I could always eat him."

"I shall wait with Sora," Sella offers.

"You would convince my innocent friend to steal the ship," Zirak sneers, "Much though I would welcome the opportunity to be spared your company, you are coming with us."

"I am not," Sella replies firmly, plonking herself into the seat beside Sora.

"She will convince me of nothing of the sort," Sora assures Zirak, "Go with Bane. I'll be here waiting when you return."

Zirak hesitates a moment longer, staring at Sora in silent debate.

"Fine," he says at length, reluctantly following Bane and R5, who have by this time reached the exit of the hangar.

Bane moves swiftly as they traverse their way back through the streets, alley and skybridges to Alruun's apartment, and in less than half an hour Bane has stormed into the duros' makeshift workshop, R5 and Zirak in toe.

Alruun glances up as they enter, and his eyes widen upon recognising them. He surreptitiously presses a remote in his pocket, and the droideka unfurls in a moment, shield activated.

"Back so soon?" he asks, his tone not quite as light as he might wish.

"A choice lies before you," Zirak informs him dangerously as he advances, "Can you guess what it might be?"

"Your forgery didn't even fool my droid here," Bane accuses him, jerking a finger at R5.

"Trying to fix a code is a tricky business," Alruun argues, "But still, my work should fool the standard Stratocratic system, I would think."

"We are not going to Stratocratic systems," Zirak informs him coldly.

"Listen, buddy," Bane says, advancing himself, "You have one more chance to make it right, or you won’t be around to rip off a third person..."

Alruun scowls at him, and mutters something in Durese as he snatches back the ID codecard, and begins to reprogram it once more. Once again, a quarter of an hour passes before he snatches it out of his computer and shoves it into Bane's hand.

"Happy?" he snaps irritably.

OOC: Alruun Darros rolled 25 using 1d20+18. Forgery.
This message was last edited by the player at 00:22, Fri 24 Nov 2017.

Bane passes it coolly to R5.

"Happy?"

R5 examines it for a few seconds before shakes its head with a disgusted beep.

OOC: R5-D3 rolled 28 using 1d20+15. Detect Forgery.
This message was last updated by the player at 23:55, Thu 14 Dec 2017.

"All right, Darros," Bane says coldly, "I'm going to need that ten thousand credits back. And that droideka as recompense for my wasted time and effort."

"How dare you?!" snarls Alruun indignantly, rising, "I will not have some filthy scum come in here off the street and start insulting my work and making unreasonable demands! You wanted a job done, I did the job! Now, get out of my shop!"

"That does it!" snarls Zirak in return, igniting his lightsaber and leaping at the startled duros. Alruun narrowly ducks under Zirak's savage swipe at his head, collapsing backward as Zirak raises his lightsaber to strike once more.

OOC: Zirak Derasir rolled 19 using 1d20+6. Initiative.
Bane Malar rolled 12 using 1d20+3. Initiative.
Alruun Darros rolled 11 using 1d20+2. Initiative.
R5-D3 rolled 8 using 1d20+2. Initiative.
Droideka rolled 8 using 1d20-2. Initiative.
Zirak Derasir dealt 27 points of vitality damage to Alruun Darros.
This message was last edited by the GM at 00:34, Fri 24 Nov 2017.

"Wait! Please!" squeals, Alruun, indignance replaced with terror, "I'll give you back your credits, and the droideka! Please! Don't kill me!"

Zirak pauses his assault, but doesn't put his lightsaber away.

"If you don't want any trouble with me, then I suggest you do so swiftly. And allow my extremely talented droid to use your system here to forge a far superior codecard than you appear to be capable of."
This message was last edited by the GM at 00:59, Fri 24 Nov 2017.

Alruun swallows, and nods slowly.

"V-very well, y-yes," he stammers, rising tentatively and passing the droideka remote to Bane's outstretched hand, before approaching his computer and typing in a code, inserting the codecard, and then hastily making way for R5 to work.

"And the credits," Zirak prompts as Bane coils up the droideka and R5 inserts an appendage into the computer and begins to get to work.

"Of course," Alruun says hastily, withdrawing a credit chip from a drawer and transferring the ten thousand credits back to Bane.

There is silence for the next ten minutes or so after this, as Bane and Zirak wait patiently for R5 to complete its work. Alruun sits perched on the side of a canister in the corner of the room, not taking his eyes of Zirak's lightsaber. Sweat beads down his forehead, and his eyes dart to R5 and back to Zirak with fear as R5 beeps to indicate it has completed the forgery.

"Beepity-boop-dwoop!" it beeps triumphantly, withdrawing its appendage and removing the codecard.

OOC: R5-D3 rolled 32 using 1d20+15. Forgery.
This message was last updated by the player at 23:55, Thu 14 Dec 2017.

"Nice," says Bane, as he moves towards the door, the droideka rolling behind, "Well, Darros, as they say, 'pleasure doing business with you'."

Alruun expression is a mixture of indignation and relief as the pair exit his store. He makes no response as the door slides closed behind them. He slumps into his chair and does not move for a long time.

The rather jubilant trio make their way back to their ship once more. Once again, it takes them little more than half an hour to make their way through the increasingly familiar streets and alleyways, and up the rumbling elevator.

Upon entering the ship, they find Sora and Sella seated exactly as they left them. Sora rises eagerly as they enter.

"How did you go?"

"I can't complain," Bane replies, holding up the credit chip which now contains twenty thousand credits in his right hand, and patting the coiled droideka beside him with his left.

Sora raises a curious eyebrow.

"Beepity-boop-bleep-boop," R5 explains in answer to Sora's look, moving over to replace the newly forged ID signature.
This message was last updated by the player at 23:55, Thu 14 Dec 2017.

"Precisely," Bane translates, "Aggressive negotiations."

"You killed him?" Sora guesses darkly.

"What do you take us for?" Bane replies indignantly, "Amateurs?"

Sora doesn't seem quite sure how to interpret this comment, so he ignores it, focusing on Zirak.

"I think we should remain on this planet a little longer," he says, "I would like to find somewhere we can access this 'holonet'."

"I thought our ship had the holonet," Zirak frowns, "Agreed though. You should eat before we travel again."

"It isn't working, if the ship ever had access," Bane replies as he transfers the credits onto empty chips in portions of five thousand each, "We will have to get that fixed before we go. And we shall need to then download some updated navigation charts, unless either of you are particularly feeling like going to Malastare or Eriadu?"

Zirak, thinking of what he knows about these two planets; 'food is scarce' and 'can defend itself' replies firmly.

"We are not."

"Beepity-beep-boop-beep," R5 informs Bane.
This message was last updated by the player at 23:55, Thu 14 Dec 2017.

"There we go," Bane waves a hand to the droid, "That explains it. We shall need to get our transponder fixed."

"What is a transponder?" asks Zirak blankly.

"Something which allows us holonet access," Bane explains vaguely.

"Well, then, what are we waiting for?" Sora says, making his way to the boarding ramp.

"Waiting for some credits?" Bane says to him, passing him one of the chips, "Five for me, five for you, five for Zirak and five for R5."

Sella doesn't bother to argue, rising and remaining close to Sora.

"In fairness," Zirak observes, sounding as if fairness isn't something he enjoys much, "Should we not split the credits after we have paid for the holonet?"

"Beepity-beep-dweep!" beeps R5 indignantly.
This message was last updated by the player at 23:55, Thu 14 Dec 2017.

"Yes, that does sound fair," Bane admits, ignoring R5, who clutches its five thousand credit chip defensively. Gathering back the chips, he begins to transfer the credits back onto the one chip.
This message was last edited by the player at 22:08, Sun 26 Nov 2017.

Once Bane has finished this task, he, Zirak and R5 exit the ship once more in search of a parts dealer. They have little trouble finding one amongst the many stalls and merchants about the streets, and R5, after carefully examining the used transponder, confirms that it is indeed in serviceable condition. A few minutes of bartering follows, in which the sum of one thousand credits is eventually settled on, to the satisfaction of neither them or the merchant.

"Well," says Bane as he finishes transferring the credits between chips for the third time, "We each have four thousand, seven hundred and fifty credits each to spend."

"We need to find an equipment store," Zirak asserts.

There are many such stores around, although finding one which carries high quality wares turns out to be a more difficult task. After a couple of hours of searching about, Zirak has managed to locate a finely crafted suit of dark padded battle armor and a black, all-temperature cloak. Bane himself has managed to locate a comlink, a glow rod, a tool kit, and a liquid Cable for his blaster. He has also found a large quantity of medpacs, of which he has selected five.

As Bane is in the process of selecting medpacs, Zirak approaches him, carrying the padded battle armor on one arm and the all-temperature cloak on the other.

"Bane," he says, "I need you to haggle."

Bane, halfway through mentally adding up his own items, sighs.

"How much are they?"
This message was last edited by the player at 22:28, Sun 26 Nov 2017.

"That curn wants five thousand credits for my armor, and another one hundred and fifty for my cloak. I need both of them, naturally."

"All right," says Bane, snatching the last couple of medpacs before approaching the counter, and proceeding to haggle over both his and Zirak's items.

They are halfway through their negotiating when Zirak spots Bane's comlink.

"I need one of those," he says quickly, "Where did you find it?"

"It was the last one there," Bane says impatiently, "Now, let's just..." he trails off as Zirak ignores him, striding off to search the store for a second comlink.

Zirak has searched for several minutes without success, and is just in the process of sulkily returning to Bane when R5 trundles up to him, a battered but functional comlink clutched in its appendage.

"Dwooooop!" it beeps triumphantly.
This message was last updated by the player at 23:56, Thu 14 Dec 2017.

"You know you are always my favorite," Zirak informs him fondly as he takes the comlink and adds it to the pile on the counter.

The haggling resumes, and Bane, with a little assistance from Zirak, manages to barter the merchant down to a fifteen percent discount. Zirak pays four thousand, five hundred and ninety credits for his armor, cloak and comlink, and Bane pays a round one thousand credits for his items.

OOC: Merchant rolled 15 using 1d20+10. Haggle.
Bane Malar rolled 23 using 1d20+6. Haggle.
Zirak Derasir rolled 21 using 1d20+1. Haggle.
This message was last edited by the GM at 22:43, Sun 26 Nov 2017.

The trio proceed to make their way back to the ship, stopping on the way at a droid maintenance facility for R5, where the droid receives an oil bath, clean and polish for two hundred credits. When it emerges from the facility, half an hour or so later, it is hardly recognisable as the grimy droid purchased from the utai near the dump of Kau'dan City.

"Beep-boop-dwoop!" it beeps with an enthusiasm typically reserved for the prospects of theft or murder.
This message was last updated by the player at 23:56, Thu 14 Dec 2017.

After they have returned to the ship, Sora and Sella depart to purchase their own supplies. It is an hour or so before they return, Sora carrying a field kit, a glow rod, a heavy blaster pistol and a pile of medpacs.

OOC: Merchant rolled 16 using 1d20+10. Haggle.
Korr Sella rolled 29 using 1d20+10. Haggle.
This message was last edited by the GM at 22:02, Thu 14 Dec 2017.

Sora has strode into the quarters in which Zirak is meditating, carrying a handful of five medpacs.

"Here," he says, offering the pile to Zirak, "These are important."

"I don't want them," Zirak sniffs, pretending to continue meditating, "I have no training in medicine, and I can heal my own wounds perfectly well."
This message was last edited by the GM at 22:07, Thu 14 Dec 2017.

"Remember Kau'dan City?" Sora frowns, not withdrawing the proffered pile, "What if Bane or I are injured? You can't carry us both."

"I would carry Bane," Zirak sniffs once more, "No offense."

Sora sighs, leaving the medpacs on a crate beside where Zirak is meditating. He then turns and leaves the room.

Zirak purses his lips, waiting until Sora's footsteps fade before opening a tentative eye and rising to pocket the medpacs.
This message was last edited by the GM at 22:11, Thu 14 Dec 2017.

The evening and night have passed without incident. All is silent on the ship, save for the by now familiar sound of heavy breathing from the direction of Bane's bunk, a not altogether unexpected side effect of the mercenary's sleeping in space suit. In the early hours of the following morning, Bane has been awakened by Zirak.

"R5 is interested in locating a shop which sells droid equipment before we depart the planet," he murmurs softly, "And I also need to feed. Besides," he sends a dark glance at Sora's bunk, "It has been a while since he went off, and it would be better if only Sella was around when he did..."

Bane listens groggily to Zirak's words, and is silent for a few moments afterwards. Then Zirak's words seem to sink in, and he shrugs.

"No arguments there," he shrugs, glancing at Sora as he rises with a yawn, "Though I doubt we will find a suitable droid shop in these parts. Our best bet would be to find an Industrial Automaton supplier in the upper levels, now that we have a functional ID signature."

"Fine, just food then, for now."

Zirak, Bane and R5 have exited the ship, making their way out of the hangar and into the streets once more. Bane has taken the lead, as usual, directing them away from the markets, shops and stalls, and into a less brightly lit section of the city. After a few minutes they have reached a turbolift.

"This is an entrance to the Undercity," Bane explains as they enter the lift, "A pit of refuse and low life's. You've got to find some sort of 'food' down here."

Zirak seems quite pleased at Bane's resourcefulness.

The turbolift doors open a few moments later to reveal an almost pitch black alleyway extending before them. Graffitti, rubbish and the stench of stale sweat, vomit and excrement down here make the hangar in which they parked smell like a lakeside estate on Naboo, although, of the trio, only Zirak is unfortunate to actually be able to smell these mingled stenches. The alleyways are deserted for obvious reasons, and no beggars venture to these depths.

They have not gone more than a dozen meters before the turbolift door opens once again, and turning, they have found themselves facing a sinewy, tentacled quarren, armed with a blaster rifle.

"Bane Malar," he says in thickly accented Basic, "I thought I recognised you. The Hutts have placed a hefty bounty on your head, after you so foolishly set up Vungo's spice shipment last month. Fifty thousand credits. You are a fool to travel down here with only your friend."

"Fifty thousand?" Zirak echoes, mildly impressed.

"And you are?" Bane asks, blankly, ignoring Zirak.

"Who I am makes no difference," the quarren says, "But the Hutts want you dead. They don't want Xizor finding out about anything. So, this is the end of the line for you."

OOC: Zirak Derasir rolled 25 using 1d20+6. Initiative.
Bane Malar rolled 13 using 1d20+3. Initiative.
R5-D3 rolled 15 using 1d20+2. Initiative.
Vessyk rolled 4 using 1d20+2. Initiative.
This message was last edited by the player at 23:35, Thu 14 Dec 2017.

The gloom of the alleyway in which they stand conceals the darkness that distorts the shadows about Zirak as he stretches out a hand toward the quarren.

OOC: Zirak Derasir used Drain Life on Vessyk.

Not being armed with a weapon, R5 surreptitiously trundles behind the remains of a partially demolished wall.

Bane quickly takes cover, crouching to launch a blast at the quarren, which narrrowly missed the bounty hunter's left shoulder.

OOC: Bane Malar dealt 19 points of vitality damage to Vessyk.

As the dark tendrils have sunk into his chest, the quarren has gasped and fallen back a pace. He does not know what has happened to him, but seems to suspect Bane of possessing some artifact or device, as he has quickly raised his blaster and fired two deadly blasts which have forced Bane to dive for the wall behind which R5 has taken cover.

OOC: Vessyk dealt 28 points of vitality damage to Bane Malar.

Zirak has showed no inclination to dodge out of the way of the quarren's blasts. He has drawn his lightsaber, charged forward, and swung. The quarren's eyes have widened at the sight of the blade, as he correctly identifies the source of the darkness. He has narrowly ducked beneath the fan of red light directed at his head.

OOC: Zirak Derasir dealt 19 points of vitality damage to Vessyk.

The quarren has fired two blasts at Zirak. The first barely grazes Zirak's side, but the second shot strikes him squarely in the left shoulder, tearing through his armor and into his flesh beneath.

OOC: Vessyk dealt 19 points of vitality damage to Zirak Derasir.
Vessyk dealt 12 points of wound damage to Zirak Derasir.

A hasty blast from Bane has issued from somewhere half concealed by the wall, and has not come close to the dueling pair.

Zirak has given a snarl as he staggers forward, taking hold of the quarren's tunic. Dark energy has once more formed in the air about him, and raced through his arm and into the quarren. He has taken a step back, panting but revived as the wound in his shoulder swiftly heals over.

OOC: Zirak Derasir has healed 12 wound points.
Zirak Derasir has healed 13 vitality points.

Vessyk's tentacled face has paled as he realises that in Zirak he is dealing with a much more deadly being than the typical mercenary. He staggers backward, gasping for breath and clutching the wall. His eyes widen as Zirak strides forward, raising his lightsaber to decapitate the unfortunate quarren.

"Wait!" he has gasped in alarm as the lightsaber descends, "Bane! Please! I can pay you!"
This message was last edited by the player at 00:25, Fri 15 Dec 2017.

The lightsaber pauses an inch from his neck.

"How much?" Zirak hisses softly.

The quarren swallows quickly, breathing hard.

"Two thousand credits," he offers, "It's all I have in my account. Please."
This message was last edited by the player at 00:27, Fri 15 Dec 2017.

"A pity. For five thousand I might have spared you," Zirak says, making to swing.

OOC: Zirak Derasir rolled 10 using 1d20+2. Bluff.

"You know, now that I think of it," the quarren says hastily, "I recall that three thousand credit bounty did clear the other day..."

OOC: Vessyk rolled 8 using 1d20+1. Sense Motive.
This message was last edited by the player at 00:31, Fri 15 Dec 2017.

"How fortunate for you," Zirak observes, "I suggest you transfer it to our account. Now."

"Indeed," Bane agrees, emerging from his hiding place.

The quarren has withdrawn a credit chip, and typed a couple of buttons. He has glanced warily at the lightsaber, as if he doesn't trust it not to continue on its trajectory the moment the credits are transferred, but he seems to realise it is guaranteed to do so if he does anything aside from an instant transfer. He therefore does so.

Zirak has checked his account to be sure the five thousand credits have safely arrived.

A message indicating that the transferal is in process has displayed on the screen of the chip as the tension continues to hang in the air. At length the transferal successfully completes.

Zirak has sheathed his lightsaber.

"Run along then, squid. And remember that next time, the price for living will be double if you chase my minion again."

The quarren makes no attempt to argue. He gropes his way backward for a meter or two before turning and hurrying for the turbolift.

OOC: Bane Malar has advanced to level 7.
R5-D3 has advanced to level 6.
Sora Bulq has advanced to level 7.
Zirak Derasir has advanced to level 7.
This message was last edited by the player at 01:43, Fri 15 Dec 2017.

"We probably should have killed him," Bane says as the quarren disappears into the turbolift and out of sight, "Still, I suppose it can't hurt too much if I get a bit of street cred with the Hutts."

Zirak does not seem to hear him, having pulled out his comlink to contact Sora.

"Have you eaten anyone yet?" he demands, when at last it connects.

There is no response. Then finally a groggy, irritated, incomprehensible mumble.

"I don't speak weequay," Zirak says meanly.

He hears nothing else after this.

"Lazy slug," Zirak mutters, ending the call, and turning to Bane, "Well, what planet should we go to after Sora has eaten someone who isn't you or I?"

"My suggestion would be to travel to Falleen," Bane replies innocently, "I've got a friend there with enough credits to do whatever you want, and access to informat-"

"Don't make me husk you, Bane. I like you."

"You asked," Bane replies, raising a pair of placating hands.

"True," Zirak allows, "Where do you think we should go, R5?" Zirak adds, apparently having more faith in R5's objectivity than Bane's.

"Beepity-boop-beep-dwoop," R5 explains.

"Yes, I know it has to be somewhere with a decent droid parts shop," Zirak says patiently.

"Beepity-boop-beep-dwoop," R5 repeats, more slowly.

"Ah," says Zirak sheepishly, not looking at Bane, "Corellia you say? A friend of Dian Vevor's?"

"Beepity-boop-beep-boop?" R5 beeps smugly.

"Yes," says Zirak, smirking, "Yes, I imagine he would pay quite a few credits to stop that kind of information getting out. You see, Bane? That is the sort of objective, helpful advice we are looking for. Does it have food?" he adds as an afterthought.
This message was last edited by the GM at 02:19, Fri 15 Dec 2017.

"Beep-beepity!" R5 asserts.

"Excellent!" replies Zirak approvingly, "It's settled then. We travel to Corellia."

OOC: End of Chapter VI...