Sprawled in Moonshadows single cockpit seat, Devon tapped away at his datapad as he finalized the payments for docking fees for the Talons other ships.  Somewhere below him, Devon could hear Flash swearing as the Duros tried to stow all his gear in Moonshadows compact passenger quarters.

Switching on his Talon-comm, Devon opened a general channel.
"OK guys, your hanger fees are paid up for the next week.  And you got more than enough room to live onboard ship.  You know what to do - find us work so we can keep this little man-hunt funded.  Remember - our most profitable job to date was a convoy hijack... so you might want to look into finding us something to steal.  Even a single medium freighter could keep us flying for a while, once we find a buyer.  An' dont forget we want to target Imperial assets or Imperial supporters."

Devon paused for a moment, listening to the noises coming from the passenger quarters.  Sounded like Flash had just bumped his head.  Again.

"Look - dont get into any trouble you cant get yourselves out of, OK?  Chase down leads, locate potential targets, crunch numbers, plan stuff.  Plot.  Scheme.  Cor and her crew should be here in a couple more days - give her your results when they arrive."

After Devon left, Fiarr gathered with Dohr and Heigren.  "I'm going to try and make contact with the Spynet.  See what I can learn.  With luck I might find us work or learn something that might help the search for the commanders.  Maybe both.  I may be gone a day or two and there will be times my comms will be off.  Leave a message if I don't answer."

She left quickly and melted into the crowds.

Cor has been rather quiet for the trip to the hangar.  Closed off in her little world she nonetheless has many eyes and ears, watching the proceedings carefully and yet glad that her own (not inconsiderable) dealings with the Verpine are strictly remote.  The majority of her time has been spent attempting to decrypt files - and what she has found (or rather, not found) does little to please her.

When the ships dock at the hangar she makes no particular comment other than confirming with the shipyard's administration that her vessel is accompanying the Nightshrike, not looking for safe harbour herself.  All offers of 'upgrades' and 'tinkering' are politely but firmly refused.  She makes no attempt to manage the docking or electronic paperwork of the Nightshrike, trusting Mika and Sheila to perform that task with aplomb.

A couple of bleeps on a screen catch her attention, however, and she leans forward slightly to press a button.

"Mika," she asks, "I have just received an order confirmation to have the Z95 fitted with a hyperdrive.  That was you?"  After a moment's thoughtful pause she adds, "Would you be able to find out the cost and viability of having the Z95's fuel reserves expanded as well?"  Perhaps such a thing is possible, perhaps not; Cor's speciality is with droids, not starfighters.  Still, it doesn't hurt to ask.
This message was last edited by the GM at 19:03, Sat 20 Dec 2014.

Cor's request is passed to the Verpine contact and the translator droid quickly responds.  It seems that installing a hyperdrive is a standard upgrade and can now be easily installed.  Increasing the fuel cells would involve creating extra space.  The tech suggests it can be done if something was removed, one of the missile lauchers being the obvious choice.

Heigren considered what he could do.  He knew a few ways to make money but he didn't think hitting the casino would be what Devon had in mind.  He'd played in many underground games and his winnings had usually exceeded his losses.  He'd have to think about it.

"I'll ask around the docks and watering holes.  See what kind of work might be going for a crew like us.  Should all hit the clubs later, we could interrogate all the attractive ladies."  He winked at Dohr knowingly then walked off.

Kyvarr, having no real experience with ships, played the role of bodyguard for Mika.  She kept close though not so close as to bother the mechanic and constantly scanned the area.  She didn't expect trouble but having a private bodyguard might give Mika more credence.  Besides, she had nothing else to do.

Sheila moves into Cor's ship as soon as she can.  SHe passes on the info she got, not any good for finding the missing team members, but possibly good for something else.  "What else can I work on?"

Mika continues to lead the way, though she rests a protective hand on Catch.  "No thank you....  Catch is fine the way he is....  We're not interested...." she responds to the many offerings of upgrading the droid, beginning to question Cor's choice of parking space for the 'Shrike.

As Cor contacts her, Mika reponds, "Yeah, I thought a hyperdrive for the snub would be a good idea....  Yeah, we'll check on the fuel reserves options."  Passing that on, Mika considers the options.

"No, we're not willing to trade combat options for the added fuel cells.  If you can't make use of the cargo space on the snub, then we'll pass on the fuel cell upgrade."

Mika moves to the office or other appropriate location to rubber stamp the 'Shrike's berthing and to transfer funds for work on the Z-95.

Finding a job… That was something Dohr had been doing for the last decade and more. But he had mostly been looking for a job for himself, not a group of professionals - a band of mercenaries. Hijacking or stealing stuff from people was something he had never done …or at least not from anyone who didn’t deserve it and even then only to help someone in need. Then again, the Talons were in need of credits, a transport full of them. And yet, the doctor didn’t feel too comfortable about the idea of taking something as large, important and expensive as a freighter from someone against his or her will. Not unless the target was a criminal, a slaver perhaps or… imperial.

Dohr didn’t really have any contacts on Nar Shaddaa who could help him find something worth stealing. But he was a good talker and an even better listener. Nervous people had loose tongues. And in his line of business customers had a tendency of being nervous and talkative. And there were certain individuals who owed him one…

**Three Days Later**

Location: Nar Shaddaa
Having completed their transactions at the shipyard, Kyvarr, Mika and Sheila and catch joined Cor and her droids aboard the L-4000.  With CC9 handling the ship and Cor keep to herself, the Talons were left to handle their own entertainment.  For Sheila this was no problem.  She was still wading through masses of comm data from the tapped hyperspace beacon, sifting it into potentially useful data.


After three days the L-4000 finally arrives at Nar Shadaa.  Cor had little trouble securing a hangar berth in the same facility as the other Talon transports.  Cor then sent out requests for the Talons to regroup at the ship so they could share what they had learned.



Location: Brentaal Sector - Imperial Space

After three days in hyperspace in cramped quarters, tensions were becoming a little heated between Flash and Devon.  So far they had been not able to agree on much except their initial destination though Devon still had concerns about flying so deep into Imperial space when he had yet to update his codes or modify his engine signatures.  But it was too late to change.

Reverting out of hyperspace, the Moonshadow was suddenly traversing busy spacelanes.  The Brentaal System was one of the busiest in the galaxy.  Serving as the one place in the galaxy where the Perlemian Trade Route and the Hydian Way bisected, making it a logical starting point for hunting the Perlemian Hydian Alliance.  This, combined with it's proximity to major star systems like Coruscant, Chandrila, even the Corellian Sector, the place was alive with traffic.

It was also awash with Imperials.  Devon's sensors read custom stations, patrol craft, even an Imperial sector fleet a few systems away.  He would need to be very careful.

Suddenly his comm crackled to life and a voice, clearly artificial asked, "Firespray FRX24143, please state your cargo and destination."

---

OOC:  I appreciate that people may have sporadic posting over the next few weeks.  I intend to push on but wont worry if people can't post.  We'll be mostly gathering info for jobs and the like so wont matter if people are quiet as they engage in Christmas fun and cheer.  Well except for Devon who may get blown up by Imps!  ;)

Hope everyone has a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year

Cor hasn't been idle, even though she's had frustratingly little success.  By the time the team arrives at her L4000 they find the galley on the middle deck set up to function as a small conference room.  No food is laid out but several forms of drinks are present, including some rather good caf and several different kinds of soft drink (nothing alcoholic, though).  Cor's personal M4 is present, hovering around the top of the room, though it isn't projecting an image currently; instead a monitor shows Cor's face opposite the galley's seating.  It isn't the best of briefing rooms but it's simple and functional, suited to the meeting if not grandiose comfort.

What little the crew can see if the room behind Cor, however, shows that her quarters are quite cozy.  Rather notoriously the blast shield over the window in the back wall appears not only to have been lowered, but permanently welded shut.

"Hello, everyone," Cor begins pleasantly when the team is assembled, "I trust things have been well for you all."  She looks tired - or, at least, she might look tired.  Umbarans often seem weary to humans.  "Devon and his team will be some way out still, perhaps four days to a week barring any unforeseen issues, so we have plenty of time to get a few things done."  Her long fingers tap a keyboard just below the view of the screen.  "I have had no success finding information from the files gathered from the Nest computers.  I have the suspicion that Sheila, likewise, will have had little to no success int hat regard - though do feel free to correct me if I am wrong," she adds, sparing Sheila a small but warm smile.

"The reason for this is because Ms Jax has not accessed any of her files more or less since she and the Commander left on their mission, perhaps a little before.  Not a check-in, not a data drop, nothing.  That means one of two things."  She holds up a finger.  "Firstly, that her position is dangerous enough that it requires no transmissions in or out.  That would not concern me if they were not late back."  She holds up another finger.  "Secondly, that she is in a position where she is incapable of transmitting or receiving information.  Currently I highly suspect the second option.  That means that the files we have are old news - as far as their disappearance goes.

"However, we already know something important: they were not the only group to vanish to a secret meeting.  Other groups around the Galaxy have done likewise.  As a result we have something potentially valuable - a pattern."

Cor stretches her neck from side to side.  The crack of resettling joints is audible even over the speakers.

"Fiarr, I would like you to contact your people in the Bothan network, if you have not done so already, to see if they know anything.  If you have already done so I would appreciate it if you could combine your efforts with Sheila.

"Sheila, I would like you to look through the Holonet for any and all patterns of anti-Empire strikes that have vanished or ceased for no readily available reason in the correct time frame - we are looking for cessation of hostilities at the same time that the Commander and Ms Jax left us.  Remember to be as thorough but stealthy as your slicing skills will permit to avoid data traces; the Empire may be monitoring communications specifically for people looking for vanished anti-Empire groups, so this task is not without dangers.  Our people may not have left a trail but someone across the groups meeting to discuss an alliance must have been sloppier."  She nods once to Sheila to confirm her request.  "I wish to know who they are.  If anyone - anyone - hits a dead end with their own tasks, spend some time helping Sheila if you can.  Even if we cannot follow Ms Jax and the Commander we may yet be able to follow someone else.

"Mika, I would like you and Heigren to talk to the local gangs - swoop gangs and so forth - to find out what local rumour says of anti-Empire sentiment but also, and more pertinently, to see if anyone is looking for work.  Use your knowledge of gangs as you best see fit.

"Speaking of which," she adds, "has anyone had any luck finding any potential employment as of yet?  Is there any other news?"

With that, Cor throws the meeting open to anyone who cares to speak.

Once aboard Cor's ship, Mika found herself with little to do.  Cor entrusted the piloting duties to her driods and the repair work to her droids and so foth.  She did what she could, helping with the data mining form the Talon records.  She wasn't quite the expert that Cor and Sheila might be, but she has some skills.

After the cnoference, Mika offloads her swoop.  Cor wanted her talking to swoop gangs, she'd do best having her swoop.  Aside frmo her swoop, she didn't have much to do to look like a swoop punk.  She'd put the buzzbot in the storage bin with instructinos to keep a log and sould things go poorly, push the logs ot Cor.  Otherwise, she'd just flit about and see what gangs she could find.

"OK.  We are concerned that whatever meeting they've gone to has been compromised.  Other groups have been doing antiempire strikes, I'm looking for those that ceased about 1-2 weeks ago.  Sneaky like. And I''m hoping that one of them left a breadcrumb trail to where they all are.  And hope the Imps haven't figured it out, or have left breadcrumbs of their own as to where they took everyone."  Sheila nodded.  "OK."

(OOc, do I have the time period right?, if not I'll fix it. )

Fiarr nodded.  "I have spent the last few days tapping a few sources but without a clear direction my success has been limited.  These new ideas about Imperial involvement might help.  I should warn you though that the Spynet is not in the habit of just giving out information, nor selling it without due consideration.  For valuable data they will need to be convinced we will act on it and will likely demand something equally valuable in return.  I won't commit us to such things without consultation of course."

"On my search for jobs, the Spynet doesn't post jobs as such but they are always willing to pay for good intelligence.  I'm keeping my ears open for anything."

"I've been hanging out around the port and local cantinas.  It's amazing who you can meet over a glass of whisky or at the poker table.  I've made a few inroads and if we want more 'questionable' work I think I could arrange some meetings with mid to high level crime bosses.  Smuggling, protection, that kind of thing.  Didn't really focus on swoop gangs, thought they were too small and local but happy to do that with Mika watching my tail!  She looks the part more than I."

Kyvarr straightened in her chair slightly, though her posture was already military-style erect.  "Any orders for me ma'am?"

Location: Brentaal Sector - Imperial Space


The comm crackled to life once more and the same droid spoke "Firespray FRX24143, please state your cargo and destination."

Flash imagined he could hear frustration in the droid's voice even though it was likely an autonomous unit.

Devon - who had been in the fresher when the first call came through - came scrambling up the ladder that linked Moonshadows compact living quarters with the flight deck.

"Typical, caught with my pants down..." he groused as he dropped into the pilots seat and activated the comms.

"Traffic control, this is Firespray FRX24143.  Apologies for the delay.  We are bound for Feriae Junction and are carrying no cargo.  Awaiting jump clearance."

Switching the comms back to receive mode,Devon turned to Flash.
"Well, that gets us headed in the right direction, so lets make use of the time we got before we jump - see if we can dig up anything useful."

Devon tapped several commands into the comms computer and it chimed as it started recording the local METOSP broadcast.  Meanwhile, he tuned over to the local general frequency and listened in on the civilian ship-to-ship chatter between the other vessels awaiting jump clearance for the Hydian Way.
During a lull in the chatter, he introduced himself.
"This is the Cloudrider - anyone else bound for Junction?"
With a little luck he would be able to get someone talking.  Never know what the rumour mill might turn up....

Location: Brentaal Sector - Imperial Space

"Firespray FRX24143 destination confirmed.  Proceed to egress point Fifty Four Alpha and await your exit vector.  Follow METOSP Channel Three for instructions."

Flash quickly moved into his position in the queue for the assigned Vector.  Given that the course would take them down the Hydian Way there was a lot of traffic and expected egress time was more than 30 minutes.

Devon used the time to talk to other spacers awaiting their turn.  They were a chatty lot and Devon still learned a lot of information about mundane things like sporting scores for half the sector and information on various holodramas and gossip on people's wives, partners and hatchlings.

It takes nearly 45 minutes to reach the egress point and jump into hyperspace.  As the starlanes elongate Devon goes over his notes and condenses them, separating definite fiction from possible fact..
This message was last edited by the GM at 21:25, Fri 02 Jan 2015.

Devon sat and stared at the various notes and recordings he'd taken whilst gossiping to other ships waiting for clearance.

He looked up in bewilderment at Flash.
"We have GOT to get Zyra back - I cant do this crap." he groused.  "I mean look at this - weather reports from Felucia?  What the hell do we care about that?  Wedding proposals in the Hapes Cluster? She'd see the patterns."

He pushed a datapad across to the Duros.
"Here - look at this.  I think Telos is our best bet.  Someone destroyed a pirate group, they disappeared without trace.  No-ones claiming responsibility.  Reckon that could be the PHA?"

When Cor’s call came through, Dohr had come to the conclusion that his approach would not get the Talons the job the dearly needed. He had made a good number of new contacts and befriended some locals. But they had either been the wrong people or not willing to part with the information Dohr had been trying to fish from them. His attempts had come up with nothing. Once others had given their reports, the Doc spoke up:

”I fear I have not been able to find us anything worthwhile.”
This message was last edited by the player at 21:26, Sun 04 Jan 2015.

"Very well," Cor acknowledges, nodding once.  "Are there any other concerns, or is everyone clear on our situation and what it expected from this point?"

"Still not clear on what you want me to do ma'am."

"I understand.  I will review my own sources for Imperial connections whilst assisting Sheila in her investigations."  She looked over at the slicer.  "Let me know how I can assist you and I'll balance my searches with yours."

"Gotcha.  I'll follow Mika's lead.  I'm sure she'll look the part in skintight nerfhide pants and jacket."