Act 5: Shore Leave
Time:Day 1, Early Morning (local planetary time)
Location: Det Akari (orbit), Airam Sector, Outer Rim

Det Akari is a smallish planet in the Akari system of the fiercely independent Airam sector of the Outer Rim.  Known as a minor trader world it functions as a 'pit stop' for merchants and freelancers of many kinds, an opportunity to fuel up and pick up supplies mid-travel.  Somewhat away from the major hyperspace lanes it has minimal value as a military target.  The local inhabitants maintain a firm governmental control over the planet that limits most forms of illegal trade, making it just enough of a bother that most smugglers and pirates stay away, too.  With a lack of Imperial troops it's an ideal place for a break with little risk of harm, a rare thing indeed in the Outer Rim.

The planet has a comfortable 0.92G gravity force even though the small size of the planet would normally only support 0.63G; a system of artificial gravity devices buried near (and powered by) the planet's core keep the gravity stable.  It is a fully urbanised planet, much like Coruscant, with no known native life forms remaining.  Equipment stores, hab complexes, entertainment venues, casinos, restaurants, brothels, resorts, bars, hotels and much more cover every square inch of the planet.  Prostitution and gambling are legal but firmly monitored on Det Akari.  A great deal of entertainment can be found on-planet and the survival rate of law-abiding visitors is very high, particularly for the Outer Rim.  While some black market trading is known of it's certainly minimal and most organised crime cartels don't bother with the planet.  Too much effort.  Larger, more important and less vigilant places - such as Nar Shaddaa - offer far more than Det Akari could.

---

The Ghtroc freighter carrying the Talons is currently in geostationary orbit around Det Akari.  The space lanes don't seem very busy currently and they're addressed by traffic control shortly after arriving.  Bureaucracy seems to be thriving as the craft is put into a virtual queue as it's checked and recorded prior to being released for landing.  It's not a difficult process but it is somewhat boring and involves waiting around while spaceport officials check codes and take visual images of the ship using long-range camera equipment.

"Your transponder codes are being checked," the traffic control officer states firmly, "thank you for your patience.  While you wait please review local weapon restriction laws and any other relevant clauses."

Local laws regarding arms and ammunition are very simple: no blaster weapon larger than a heavy blaster, which must always remain on stun (ion weapons permitted).  Stun batons and unpowered staves are also permitted.  No other weapons - including melee weapons such as vibroblades - are permitted.  Firing a weapon for any reason (including ion weapons) is ground for immediate arrest, though proven cases of self-defence result in nothing harder than a warning.  Firing on a security or law enforcement officer is grounds for immediate execution.  All weapons must be registered both on arrival to and departure from Det Akari.  There are exceptions made for weapons traders - all weapons to be traded must be disassembled (where appropriate) and kept unpowered until off-planet - and for dignitaries.  Bodyguards of important persons are allowed weapons considered suitable for their work.  Both traders and bodyguards require permits.

Bounty hunters can pick up or drop off bounties on-planet but require permits for their weapons and must register as bounty hunters prior to landing on-planet.  There seem to be no restrictions on personal armour and droids, while freely permitted (and indeed common), must have in-built weapons disabled at all times.  Like weapons, droids must be checked both in and out.

Every now and then a gentle 'ping!' updates the Ghtrok with an estimated time to landing clearance.  It currently reads 00:00:37:19 - a little over half a Galactic standard hour.  Just enough time to sort out what to take.

---

(( OOC: Don't bother looking Det Akari up; While the Airam Sector is canon Det Akari is a world of my own making.  Hope you have fun here! ))
This message was last edited by the GM at 09:36, Wed 17 Apr 2013.

Zyra begins handing out false ID's.  "Here you go.  Memorise your names.  These ID's are clean.  I've booked out the one hundred and twenty-seventh floor of the Blue Pulsar Hotel for 2 weeks.  All meals are covered.  Any damages, booze or. . .services," The last came with a look thrown at Heigran.  "you pay yourself."


OOC:  Feel free to choose the names on your ID's and add it to your equipment list.
This message was last edited by the player at 11:44, Wed 17 Apr 2013.

Mika, or Kimy Stell as her false ID states, got caught up on her sleep on the ride in and now she has her gear spread out on her bunk.  The problem in her mind is she's never been on a real vacation before, well not since she was a kid.  Of course she wasn't going any where without her tool kit, she'd rather leave her clothes behind and go naked then leave the tools.

The blaster and stun baton were allowed, no reason not to takt those and now that she's a mercenary, heading any where without packing some hardware sems foolish.  And if she's got the hardware, she'd best take the power packs and enegy cells.

Of course she'd keep the comlink and credit chip.  And it'd be far more convenient to have the datapad at hand then relying on public kiosks.

She wasn't sure about sight seeing, but taking the macrobinoculars and glow rod was just obvious.  Looking at the pile of stuff she's taking and the small pile that was left, she shrugs and mutters, "To hell with it..."  She adds in the blaster repair kit, and the grappling spike launcher.  Much of the equipment had its place, blaster in the holster, tool kit over her shoulder, comlink in her belt...  The rest went into a shoulder bag.  Grabbing up the stuff, she heads on into the lounge to see what the others are up to.

The hair style, or lack of one, the clothes...  Mika still looks much like the swoop punk she was not so long ago.

Cor thinks quite hard about what to take.  Her need for shore leave is far less than her need for alone-time and she gets plenty of that as is.  In fact the thought of going out onto the planet with its huge buildings and packed crowds seems like something of a torture for her.  So instead she makes it darn clear up-front that she's probably going to spend the whole two weeks on the Ghtroc.  Cabin fever doesn't really affect her.  The alternative is so much worse - for her, anyway.  Besides, while a big luxurious floor in a huge high rise on a bustling planet might be great for some people she doesn't want to get oil stains on the carpet - or look out a window accidentally.  That's a panic attack waiting to happen right there.

Without much ado Cor claims the co-pilot's room - not because she intends to act as the co-pilot (though she recommends CC9 play that part) but because she has a lot of stuff to pack and she's planning on being in that room for most of the two weeks.  She brings 2-1B-D3, B2-CC9 and R2-A9, leaving the labour droids and the B1s at Talon Nest to help maintain and defend it.  Her possible need for a proxy hasn't escaped her notice.  Aside from that she stocks up on tools (her toolkit, droid diagnostic, glowrod), makes sure the Ghtroc has well over two weeks' worth of food and water, packs her ion pistol and her all-temperature cloak as well as several changes of clothing and her plush Nexu toy.  Unfortunately she's forced, due to hold space restrictions, to leave her beloved (and quite useful) Trask A-A5 speeder truck behind.

"I will need to report that I am present but intend to stay aboard the ship and why," she notes nervously.  "Better that than attempt to conceal my presence only to be detected on a basic scan and get us all into trouble.  I suggest leaving 2-1B-D3 here and taking CC9 and A9 with you.  Even without weapons CC9's presence can dissuade thugs and A9 is an excellent helper."

Sheila too caught up on sleep on the way in.  She had actually not gone to bed the night before leaving, staying up on caf and sugar to finish her report to Mark. She packed vacation clothes, a nice dress, a good purse, a swimsuit, tourist clothes and and a nice jacket full of pockets.  Along with that went the plaster pistol and power packs, stun baton, her tool and security kits, just in case, datapad and a medipac, all nicely packed in the back pack.  Actually, the blaster was in one pocket, the power packs in another, the padd in another, and the kits filling out the rest of them with the medipac taking the last.  Her credits were in an inner pocket of her tourist clothes.

Her ID made her Janine Carstairs,  for the trip down, she had on nice tourist clothes, not too expensive, not too shabby. The lounge appears to be the place to wait.
This message was last edited by the player at 14:28, Thu 18 Apr 2013.

Arin climbed in to the transport and took a look at the ID he was given. Rathon Dann - it could have been worse. He was in compliance with the orders from the CO, not carrying anything that had been listed as contraband and if one did not look at the worn jumpsuit, he was looking pretty good with his hair combed and chin shaven. He was doing his best to avoid the officer-on-leave -look as it would have been a dead giveaway - but he was most certainly going to find an attire that would be more suitable for daily activities that did not include repairing starfighters or flying them.

"Watch out for your credit chits. This place is probably crawling with pickpockets", he said quietly. His chit was carefully stashed away in a place that required slipping a hand (or other appendage) inside his jumpsuit - something he would most certainly notice. "I really need some new clothes", he said taking a glance at Cor as in inviting her along.
This message was last edited by the player at 11:53, Fri 19 Apr 2013.

Sheila looked up at Zyra,  as the other's arrived.  " What's our cover story.  I mean you bought out a hotel floor, we are obviously all together.  So what's our excuse?"

Devon read his new ID, once again vaguely disappointed that he wasn't called something like Crash Fistfight or Fantastic McAwesome.  Instead he was stuck with the handle Rian Cloudrider.  He shrugged, you just had to put up with these little inconveniences.

Like several of the others, Devon had spent a large part of the journey catching up on lost sleep - mainly as a result of pulling an all nighter working on the Ghtrocs transponders, and doing various other engineer related things.  By the time he'd finally thought about packing, it was getting toward 5am.

Packing was easy - most of Devons wardrobe tended towards 'casual' with a few items of high fashion (by engineer standards)from the line called 'no oil stains'.  He shoveled all of the unstained stuff into his pack and figured he'd buy more stuff when they arrived - after all, they'd just got paid...

For more serious kit, sheer habit made him grab his toolkit and he quickly added his blaster pistol, stun baton and datapad to the pile.  Devon paused for a moment, then added the backpack that held his hiking gear.  Maybe they'd have some place he could go... and maybe not.  He grinned to himself, city or countryside, Devon never really had much trouble finding ways to keep himself amused.

"Corporate retreat of course.  We're on the annual corporate retreat of a branch of the Imperial Reclamation Service."

Heigran had spent their inital approach to planet in the cockpit, his face planted against the viewports and constantly asking questions.  He'd never been off Phindar Prime and this world was nothing like the Zeltron had ever imagined.

Once banned from the cockpit for being overly disruptive Heigran strapped into the lounge and began flicking through a datapad as planetry data started to come up.  He didn't bother with gear as he didn't own any.  Still he had some credits now and he planned to spend them.  All of them.

The Ghtroc (which hasn't actually touched down yet) is hailed by traffic control approximately three seconds before estimated time is up.  Efficiency seems to be on the menu for today.

"Please advise of reason for visit, passenger numbers and transmit personal ID codes," the traffic control officer requests.  "Permission to land will be granted upon confirmation of IDs which will need to be kept with you at all times while on Det Akari."  The officer doesn't sound hostile, suspicious or even stuffy, but he does sound efficient and a little bored.  "Also, if you have any questions I can attempt to help answer them."

"Understood control.  Nine aboard, looking for some R&R.  Codes transmitting."

Mark stretched in the pilot's chair.  He could have got anyone to fly but he enjoyed getting as much stick time as possible, even a transport.  If this was meant to be a vacation at least he could do what he enjoyed.

He didn't bother asking for any information at this point.  Zyra would undoubtedly brief him at some point.
This message was last edited by the player at 09:20, Fri 19 Apr 2013.

Flash wanders in an out, looking fitful and annoyed.  "Can't wait for this tin can t'land," he mutters, "beautiful freighter but gimme a hyperspace-capable starfighter any day."  He's travelling very light - ID, credit chip, Talon comm, blaster pistol, data pad and a bag of clothes.  "Hell, doesn't even have a proper turret.  Fixed guns just don't do it."

Cor glances over at Arin, noticing the look he gives her.  It takes her a few seconds to decipher it but then she hurriedly shakes her head.  "No, oh no, I will not be leaving the transport.  This is as close to shore leave as I get."  Her eyes grow wide at the thought.  "Going to Phindar Prime was touch-and-go as it was, even if the shuttle was... very enjoyable.  For the most part.  No, it would be better for everyone concerned if I spent the two weeks..."  She paused as she pondered the best way of phrasing it. "Well, guarding the ship."

In the absence of any questions the traffic control officer works quickly and smoothly.  It's not long before several blips confirm a landing sequence and co-ordinates.  "ID codes cleared.  You have clearance to land in bay D286-K," the officer states evenly.  "Please be ready for inspection upon landing.  Enjoy your stay on Det Akari."

The trip from orbit to surface is easy enough and the landing bay is well and truly big enough for the Ghtroc.  Less than a minute after landing the Talons are met by a small inspection team who check them for weapons, register droids and board the vessel in a routine sweep for contraband.  It is here, on-board, that Cor is checked and registered as a visitor along with the others; it seems they've a comfortable history of accommodating those with personal foibles and disabilities (of which Cor, arguably, has both).  It adds about half an hour to the wait time but it doesn't require any bribing; the inspection team don't look much like the kind to accept bribes anyway.

The whole procedure takes about two hours.  From there the Talons are free to roam the spaceport (in acceptable areas) or leave for the hotel.

Once their business in the landing bay is done they find the spaceport to be a very large and shiny affair.  It's packed full of tourists, businessfolk and other people from a huge array of species.  Though humans seem to be the majority it's not by much.  A massive crescent-shaped affair, almost as big as a small township itself, the spaceport handles all major departures and arrivals on this hemisphere.  And where you get a spaceport you get shops.  Hundreds of shops selling everything from caff to electronics to droid rentals to duty-free bondage gear stretch out on either side of the gates the Talons emerge from.  If they forgot to bring anything they can probably buy it here (at about 125% of retail cost; that's major spaceports for you).  Signs in a wide array of languages point this way and that to indicate landing bays, waiting lines, check-in points, public transport away from the spaceport and private transport rental (and sales).  Up above the ceiling is a couple of stories high.

Zyra turned to address the group.  "I've arranged for transport to the hotel for our luggage and anyone who wants to check in first.  For the rest of you, your time is your own.  Your rooms will be ready when you arrive and all meals are included in the hotel restaurant.  I wouldn't recommend shopping in the spaceport.  Far more variety onplanet at cheaper prices.  Have fun."

She goes to get her bag then consults her datapad and heads for the meeting point for their transfer speeder.

Arin set after Zyra - he was going to check in first, but get out to do some shopping right after that. He needed clothes and personal items, he had not had the chance to get from the garrison as he defected. It was all a bit difficult - he was being supported by the human rank-and-file of the Talons, at least to some degree, but the whole thing about Flash clearly bothered him. Ever since he had come out of the personal debriefing with Mark, he had seemed a bit sullen and keeping to himself.

Flash, on the other hand, doesn't seem in the slightest bit perturbed.  He looks around with a wide grin, hands on his hips, and nods to himself.  "Shore leave, huh.  Bit o'cash, bit o'time, nice little planet."  He spots a nice-looking café and steps up, grabbing a caff to go so he can drink it as he... goes.  Heading after the others he walks with an easy gait.  He seems determined to enjoy himself.  Tapping his Talon comm he briefly contacts Cor.  "Hey uh, Sola, can you check the local 'net for music stores?  Got a hankerin' to get a proper setup."

"I'd be delighted," comes Cor's voice over the comms.  "Are there any other requests?  The extranet here seems to be particularly well set-out."

CC9 stomps along beside the Talons, looking around now and then.  While he doesn't say anything he sure does loom good.  While he bears no weaponry of his own he is still a huge, imposing bulk that most people are probably unwilling to get in the way of.  He doesn't respond to Cor's query.  He seems to have settled into guard duty.

A9 rolls alongside too, peering this way and that and letting out the occasional beep and whistle in his droidy language.  He beeps a bit louder and more cheerily whenever he passes another astromech; comrades in arms, as it were.

Heigren followed behind the others, sticking close to Mark and Zyra.  For once he was quiet and subdued.  His face seemed pale and he continually looked around.  It was his first time of Phindar Prime and he continually waited for stormtroopers to jump out and shoot all the aliens flowing freely through the airport.  Slaves maybe?

He kept looking for the non-alien check-in area.  He hadn't seen one yet.  Surely the non-humans didn't get the same treatment as humans?

Sheila followed along with the group following Mark and Zyra, watching the people around her, noting the moods.  almost on a whim, she grabbed Heigren by one arm, and Arin by the other, linking hers with theirs.  "First thing we're doing after check in is I'm buying both of you drinks.  After that you're on your own."  She will let them separate from her if that's what either of them wants to do, but that's up to them.

Arin was surprised by Sheila's sudden grab of his arm, but he nodded in agreement. "I suppose I could use a drink before heading out to shop for necessities. I mean, this jumpsuit is all I have besides the credits." He made no move to separate - he needed all the allies he could get.

"Actually I'm good for one drink for everyone sometime over vacation and I want in on your special project, Sarah."
This message was last edited by the GM at 05:16, Mon 22 Apr 2013.

Mika, no Kimy Stell, picks up her shoulder bag and follows along.  "I've seen enough space ports, I'm for the hotel and get checked in before I figure out what to do next.  A hot bath certainly, a good, hot meal next, then maybe check out the local bars or rent a swoop and get some time in the saddle.  It's been years since I've been astride a swoop."

It strikes her as odd, but it's been so many years since she could just relax and think about having some fun, she wasn't even sure if she still knew how.

"If you're getting a swoop, do you mind if I tag along? I wonder if theywould have any of those old JR-4s", Arin said to Mika. "I've been riding a swoop ages ago the last time. You know how you can tell a happy swoop jock? He's got bugs between his teeth..."
This message was last edited by the player at 18:04, Sun 21 Apr 2013.

Janine removes her arm from arin's with an exaggerated eeewwwww.  "I draw the line at bugs. Speed yes, bugs no."  She pats heigran's arm.  "Kimy can join us for a drink and then you two can go do the bug thing."

Rian hurried to catch up with the rapidly growing biker gang ahead of him.

"Count me in too, if theres room - but not for the bugs bit - seriously, some of us wear scarves across our faces and stuff.  If you're that desperate for extra protein maybe you should get a decent meal before you get on your bike..."

"And I was told, I have no sense of humour", he laughed. "I wonder if they had an old JR-4 for sale, actually. If it's reasonably priced, I could take it back home and work on it whenever I have time to spare."

Kimy grins, seems like her idea has striked an accord.  "I spent a few years wringing extra dynes from swoops, if you ever want a hand with it.  If you find a good deal on a couple, maybe I'll get one too.  So, check in, get a bite to eat and a drink or two, then we go find some swoops to rent, bugs optional."

"Hey, I used to race with swoops when I was a kid", came the reply with a bit of a grin. "Graduated in to spacecraft after I deemed airspeeders too slow. And what comes to swoops, I'll see what I can find. Of course there are models that would be newer and faster than JR-4, but none of them has the flare and the new ones are not half as rugged as JR-4. Too bad they stopped building them a century ago or so." It was clear, Mika had found an enthusiast.

Heigran allowed Sheila to take his arm without a witty retort, which was incredibly unusual for the Zeltron.  His eyes kept darting around, his face a mask of wonder. . .and apprehension.

"There would be plenty of cargo space for swoops," CC9 notes.  "They would be extremely useful for a variety of tasks."  He seems content to plod along passively intimidating the locals for now.  He does keep a close eye on the surroundings, though.

Mark had been in a bad mood since planetfall and everyone knew why.  When passing through customs and being asked his name, he'd gone red then answered "Rainbow Blossomdancer", with mixed smirks and snickers from the Talons.

The commander stood quietly, glaring frequently at Zyra and waiting for their hotel transport to arrive.

Zyra ignores Mark's glares.

"Well have fun all of you.  Remember all medical bills come out of your own money.  Comm if you need anything."

Without much ado the transport arrives - a simple enclosed speeder van with plenty of space for passengers and equipment - and after a short period of packing it takes the Talons off and through the streets.

Airspeeders pass overhead in regular streams, guided by flight regulator paths, while the transport powers along the ground at a steady pace.  Traffic is heavy but doesn't tend to slow down much and during the trip the Talons have time to watch their surroundings.  Buildings tower overhead.  It's a very urban planet.  Neon hologram signs pulse and buzz, advertising the wares of the shops about, lurid and fantastic in the morning gloom.  Aba Shen, the city they're in, knows how to advertise.  There are even touchscreens in the back of the van's seats so that passengers can look up local businesses and attractions of all kinds.

It takes about half an hour to get to the hotel but when they look back the way they came it seems they're not that far from the spaceport they just left.  Either way the Blue Pulsar Hotel towers above them, one hundred and ninety floors of glittering architecture, gleaming and ready to serve them.  A pair of door guards wait to let them in and, inside, bellhop droids roll around to and fro.  Everything has blue accents and many feature the Blue Pulsar logo, a decorative blue star in a double-circle.  It's a simple enough matter to check in - IDs are checked by a pair of receptionists (a Twi'lek and a Cerean, both female) and the two droids are registered as belonging to the guests - and after a quick weapons check the Talons are guided through the foyer into an elevator.  One droid takes their luggage and the other guides them up.

The bellhop droids are distinctive and clearly custom-made.  They resemble humanoids of no particular species with simple circular blue photoreceptors in round heads.  A slim neck leads down to a pear-shaped body; a little over half of them seem modelled as female, the rest male.  Each has four arms and rolls about on sturdy wheels.  The one that takes their luggage first backs up to a trolley and with a magnetic 'snap!' connects to it as if it were an extension of its own body.  Perhaps it is now.  It takes a service elevator rather than the guest elevator.

Up on the one hundred and twenty-seventh floor the bellhops show them to their quarters and unload their luggage.

"Please," says the 'male' droid that guided them up, "if you need anything just contact reception or flag down a passing bellhop."

"Enjoy your stay at the Blue Pulsar!" the 'female' with attached trolley says in a cheery tone.  "We're here to serve!"

In unison they both turn and head off into the service elevator leaving the Talons, for the moment, to their own devices.

Mark grumbled something under his breath and moved to his allocated room, the door closing quickly behind him.

"I have a few locations for music, Flash," Cor's voice comes over the Talon comms, "I'll forward them to your datapad now.  I have a couple of things I would like to buy, too.  There is a very nice selection of droid supply stores on-planet," she adds in a somewhat impressed voice.  "If anyone wishes me to find any services or stores for them let me know."

"I don't think Rainbow is going to be joining in any of the festivities right now.  Personally, I think I'm going to find a beach somewhere, pull out a trashy holonovel and get some sun."

"Why did you do that to him?"  Janine shook her head and sighed.

Zyra looked to Mark's door then turned back, a smile on her face.  "Oh he's fine.  Rainbow is so used to having to be the leader, being in control.  It's a full-time job, every minute of the day.  So now we're on vacation he needs to be reminded he's just 'one of the guys'."

"Besides, how often do we get to make fun of the boss without fear of reprisal?"

She reaches into a pocket and pulls out an ID card.  "Besides, I've got a spare one of these for him.  Think he'll like Samyr Trycson better?"

"If I where a betting woman, I'd be willing to put down a few creds that e would prefer Samyr Trycson.  Besides, I wouldn't be all that sure that you don't want to have a fear or two of reprisal."

She looks around, getting ths scope of the place.  "So, what's the plan?  We want to get that drink, maybe a good, hot meal, head strat to the swoops, shopping....?

The drink sounds good.  Or many drinks.  Heigren was starting to lose his inbuilt fear of persecution.  Seeing so many non-humans on the trip over and not a single stormtrooper was making him realise he was probably safe here.

Then I want to see EVERYTHING.  Maybe there's some great museums and galleries.  Then hit the casinos and clubs tonight.  It's going to be fannnnntastic!

"I'll need some new clothing", Arin said. The coveralls he was wearing were bad enough for him to look like a grease monkey and that did not exactly fit the image of corporate people on vacation. "I suggest a drink, some clothes for me and then hitting the swoops. We can eat when we get back if we don't grab something along and eat when we find a nice spot." Okay, that sounded almost like a picnic date, though that was not the intention exactly.

"I'm betting he'd prefer that too." said Rian.  "but first round is on me if you wait at least another day.  I wanna see if we can get him a tie-dye poncho or something.  See you guys in the bar after we've checked in?" 
Evil grin in place, Rian sauntered over to the check in desk to collect his key.


Ten minutes later, any other Talons who headed to the bar would find that Rian intended to keep his promise of buying the first round of drinks - he'd secured a large corner booth for the group, and was sprawled bonelessly in a comfy chair with a chilled glass in one hand and an amiable grin on his face as he watched the world go by.  On the table in front of him was more than enough empty glasses for anyone who chose to join him along with a large pitcher of some local beverage.

OOC:  dont leave me drinking alone here guys :)

Heigran followed Devon down to the bar.  He was always up for free drinks.

"Whatever passes for good whisky here.  Second round is on me.  What shall we drink to?"

Kimy (Mika) drops off her stuff and gives her room the once over, then heads down with any ready to join Rian in the bar.  She'd limit herself to tame drinks though, a swoop wasn't a good place for someone who's been drinking.

Seeing the familiar face, she heads over to Rian.  "Hey there spacer, got room for one more?"

Janine dumped her pack, nothing exciting in there, just clothes.  then headed down to the bar.  Finding the others,   "Well, I offered a drink, but I'll pick up a round later."  She pulled out her padd and downloaded a map and guide to the attractions.

"No worries Janine.  You can get the third round!"

When his scotch arrives he raises it in a toast.  "To our fallen friends.  Gone but not forgotten."

He downed the scotch in one shot and looked for his second.

Zyra did not join the group heading to the bar as she had other things to do before she could relax: unpack, deal with a grumpy commander, etc.

Flash raised his glass to Heigran's toast then emptied his glass.

"I think I would have liked Grey.  He seemed to like killing Imperials."
This message was lightly edited by the GM at 23:00, Fri 26 Apr 2013.

In reply to Allen 'Flash' (msg # 52):

Janine scooted in close to flash and whispered.  "We are imperials."

Flash shrugged, unabashed.  "Someone say there was another round coming?"

The bar is moderately busy but not overly so; there are more interesting places to drink.  This is just close.  The bartender - a curvy Nautolan woman with a crisp white shirt and black slacks - makes sure the drinks keep coming as the clients need them.  She spends the intervening time cleaning glasses and checking stock, glancing now and then as a small vidscreen mounted behind the bar itself.  It shows four security camera screens and she seems to be using it to work out where people have finished with their drinks.  The only other person on duty is a rather skinny Zabrak youth with scruffy black hair with a few stubby horns showing through his fringe.  His main job seems to be to collect glasses and get in the Nautolan woman's way.

Heigren looked surprised when only the Duros raised a glass with him.

"Is it not a custom among humans to honour the fallen with a toast?  Or is it perhaps you only drink to fallen humans.  Do a Wookie, a Gungan and the dozens of family I lost in the last week not rate your notice?"

Sheila turned red,  "I'm sorry."   She tossed back the glass.

Rian, who'd been reaching for the pitcher to refill his glass at exactly the wrong moment, refilled his glass and joined Sheila in a slightly late toast, looking faintly sheepish as he did.

Then he sat back, staring into the middle distance.
After a few moments of contemplative silence he suddenly said.
"Know what I've never tried? A jet-ski.  You think they have jet-skis here?"
This message was last edited by the player at 11:29, Sun 28 Apr 2013.

Kimy shrugs.  "The custom is to drink to the fallen companions.  Since we didn't know your family, it makes it a bit hollow, but I'll drink to you, Heigrin.  You might not be the smartest guy in a fight, but you're the scrappiest."

Without waiting, Kimy stands and holds up her glass towards Heirgrin and downs her (non-alcoholic) drink and sets it down with resolution.  "Now, who's going swoop riding with me?"

The air was getting a bit thick for her.  She was here to decompress from the recollections of their efforts, not dwell on them.  She certainly didn't want to add insult to injury to the others, but she wanted to go feel the wind in her face, not the tears in her eyes.

Arin slipped in, apparently having refreshed himself in his room before his appearance. "Ah, you guys started without me. Well, I'm pretty much up for getting all dirty again by riding a swoop, if anyone is willing - I'd love to get some more clothes on the way, though."

"You can keep your swoop bikes thanks, not my idea of fun.  Though what are these jet skis you speak of Rian?  I've never heard of such a thing."

"I might have to catch up to you later as I believe Janine wanted to buy me a private drink."  He knew the offer had initially be for him AND Arin but he'd be just as happy with the two of them alone.

"You knew the frog, though," Flash points out, nodding to pseudo-Kimy.  "He was one of us when he died.  That deserves a toast, even if you didn't know him long."  He shoots a look at Arin but, perhaps surprisingly, doesn't say anything.  Instead he raises his glass in silent toast (again) and drinks.  "Hey, kid," he calls, flagging down the Zabrak when he draws nearby.  "Swoop tracks.  Know of any around here?  They even legal on this planet?"
This message was last edited by the player at 03:58, Mon 29 Apr 2013.

The glass-getting Zabrak stops short as Flash calls him.  He looks the group over a bit nervously but shakes his head, then nods, then shrugs.  "It, uh.  If you're after some swoop action it's gonna depend on what kind you want.  I mean there's legal businesses for it but the best swoop action's out in the southern suburbs.  Couple of gangs tore a big hole in the city a few years back," he says, warming to the subject, "mostly with bombs.  Gang warfare, right?  One gang came out on top, then the local law strolled in and pulled them apart bit by bit with rocket launchers 'n stuff.  So there's this big section of buildings that's come down.  Civil engineering's still trying to work out how to pull down the dangerous bits and salvage the good bits."  He shrugs.  Maybe he's pausing for breath.  The kid talks fast.

"Anyway," he adds, collecting two glasses from the next booth over, "there's a section that's got these big jagged chunks of building poking up in the sky like burnt metal talons.  They call it the Claws District now.  Well, people do.  The bureaucrats still call it Seventeenth Row.  But there's swoop races out around the Claws every now and then.  More swoop gangers than engineers out there but the law's given up trying to chase 'em out.  Long as they're only killing themselves the law's turning a blind eye."  He leans closer to the table and says sotto voce, "If you ask me, right, I reckon some of the higher-ups in the bureaucracy got bribed to turn that blind eye."

Then he leans back and nods slowly, meaningfully at the group, giving them a shrewd look, as if they've been initiated into some kind of conspiracy theory.  More likely he's just a bit weird.

Heigren looked at the kid with renewed interest.  Whilst he had no interest in actually racing, another possibility had raised itself.  He spoke quietly to the kid, conspiratorially.

"So if there's organised races, I assume there's somewhere one can bet on these races?  I'm no swoop jockey but I'm always up for a wager."

"Oh yeah," he nods, "real big wagers for the bigger races.  There's a few jocks got a lot riding on them."  He looks about ready to continue talking but the bartender calls him over and he gives a shrug.  "Gotta get working.  Have fun."

Kimy listens to the information from the waiter and then gets ready to leave.  To Arin, she adds, "Okay, let's get you some clothes then we'll go check out the Claw district."  To the rest, "Anyone else want to join us?"

It seems almost too coincidental for comfort, they're Talons and the torn up area is the Claw district....

"Hell yeah, I'll come." says Rian, enthusiastically. "I gotta educate Rathon here on why he's totally, utterly wrong for thinking the JR-4 is anything other than a pile of outdated junk...  the RT-7?  Now THAT is a classic."

And so spoke up another swoop enthusiast.  Or possibly just an engineer.  It was hard to tell the difference.  Either way, (friendly) battle lines were being drawn in the 'which swoop is best' war and it was obvious that Rian and Rathon were going to be on opposing sides...

Rian turned to Vyn and asks the zeltron.  "We're here for a while - Jet-skis later?      You know - if we're not busy arranging Rathons funeral after his JR-4 explodes underneath him..."

"No problems Rian.  I'm going to go and find some fun on this planet.  If you guys do find some races comm me and I might come watch you guys kill yourselves while I wager on which of you blows up the most spectacularly."

JAnine shook her head, Swoop bikes were not for her.  She didn't gamble much either.  She scrolled through ad pages on her padd, looking for something interesting.   Although she though maybe just for the first night, she might stay in, relax, catch up on all the holovids she'd missed while out there.    She looked at Vyn. "Looks like it just might be only us that don't go in for bugs in the teeth.  Anything you might like to do, nothings striking my fancy off the ads.  The rest of you have fun."
This message was last edited by the player at 00:39, Tue 30 Apr 2013.

Heigren flashes a killer smile towards Sheila.  "My dear Janine, I'm sure I can think of several entertaining things to do."

Janine started to laugh at Vyn, his grin showed so much promise.  "And you guys will come back to find us passed out from too many games of Monopoly.  A grin like that can only mean  a night of wild board games."  She winked at Vyn.

"Oh, come on, Rian. You can't compare the two. And sure, Air-2, Flare-S and Overracer might be faster than the venerable JR-4, but they lack the panache and the durability." Arin grinned. "And JR-4 just needs some tuning up and it's just as fast as the newer ones."

Heigren shakes his head and consults his datapad.  "What I was thinking was starting with hitting a local spa.  Haircut, full body massage, electrotherapy treatment.  Then to a local cafe for something called a. . ." consults his datapad again, "icecream sundae with hot fudge and Corellian vweilu nuts.  From there it's shopping at the best botiques on planet for some new clothes, dinner at the best seafood restaraunt I can find with a fine assortment of wines.  Still trying to pick a good show for this evening, there's so many things on.  I've narrowed it down to a Twi'lek ballet, Ithorian opera, a full symphony orchestra or a comedy act."

He looks mischeviously at Sheila.  "Of course if want to stay in and play this Monopole thing, I can go alone."
This message was last edited by the player at 10:47, Wed 01 May 2013.

Rian rolled his eyes theatrically. "the fates preserve me from people who think they know about swoops."   he said to no one in particular.

He began ticking off a list on his fingers. "The Air-2 goes rusty if you so much as have sweaty palms whilst riding, the Flare-S is the only bike I know that comes with a built in fire extinguisher as standard - cos they KNEW it would catch fire sooner or later and the Overracer has more in common with the TIE fighter than you might think - they're both built from tinfoil, made as cheaply as possible and need ejector seats."

He paused for a moment, thinking.  "Sure, I'll grant that the JR-4 can be as fast as any of them, but to make it stable at those speeds you're going to have to overclock the lateral repulsor coils.  And if you get that wrong, we're going to be burying whats left of you in a shoebox."

Rian turned to face the group in general and spread his hands.
"Anyone remember that film with the cyborg assassin in it?  The Storminator?  Remember that one line from it?  'Get on the bike if you want to live?'"  Getting a few nods in return, Rian pointed dramatically at Rathon "If it's HIM saying it, you're better off walking."
This message was last edited by the player at 13:18, Wed 01 May 2013.

"Ha. I'd like to see you race in some of the races, I flew in as a kid. And besides, I know how the repulsor engines work and how to tune them. And I also know how to compensate while flying after someone else has botched the job in tuning them." Arin was grinning. "Haven't buried me yet. But I agree with you on what you said of the newer ones. Perhaps I should just get parts for building a swoop and not bother with commercial models."

Janine downs the last of her drink.  She felt her eyes crossing from the current argument about swoops.  Although if she was going to move back into flying, she needed to learn more on the repair side of it.  Just because.   But building the things she flew had never really interested her.  FLying in space, that was her thing. "Spa sounds wonderful.  I could go for any of those shows."  She turned to the others.  "Enjoy yourselves, don't die, don't find yourselves on the wrong side of the law, you are all irreplacable,  your government needs you for your next job.  I'm going to go stay out of trouble with Vyn here, when he's done with his drink."

Kimy rolls her eyes.  "You boys sure are talking the talk, be interesting to see if any of you can walk the walk.  Maybe we ought to have a race, keep it in the family, find out who earns the bragging rights."

"I'm all for a little friendly race, sure", Arin said. "I know I'm good for my word - but what about Rian? You want to put your credits where your mouth is?"

Rian grinned and shrugged "Sure, after all - whoever looses can always claim they were riding a crappy bike.  Let's do it."

OOC: Whoever's heading to the Claws District, feel free to post there (Act 5.1) now.  The trip takes about ten minutes and there are both rented vehicles and public transport that one can take; being a devastated hulk of buildings that can't possibly be any kind of 'safe area' hasn't stopped the taxis going there, it seems.

Once they were alone, (and the original check was paid) Janine smiled at Vyn.  "Well, if I'm gonna buy you a drink, it should be what you prefer.   You can order something now, now or I can treat you later."

"Oh most definitely later.  I'm too eager to get going.  You know, I have never set foot in a salon, or a high class restaraunt in my life.  I've waited long enough I think."