Rhijans Thanus pulls the truck over, and a few people disembark, ready to do some exploring, spelled: "snooping", to try and discover what is going on in the city.

After all, Imperial activity, especially unusual activity, is something that the Alliance might be interested in.

The truck, accompanied by the two swoops pulls away, leaving the recon team standing at the side of the street.  Overhead, above the buildings, the sky is starting to darken as dusk approaches.  Lights are coming on within the city though, adding more illumination to the glow of holodisplays.

One building stands out from the others, even though it is a little way off.  The medcentre, easily recognised because of the strobing beacons which mark it as an emergency facility, towers above the other structures.

There aren't many people on the streets, and most of those who are seem to be heading away from the medcentre, looks to be at the heart of the closed section of the city.

"Let's go." Mark stated as he headed towards the medcentre. He stopped a person that was walking away, "Where's the medcentre. My friend isn't feeling too well." Mark nodded his head noncommittally at Shisskurr or one of the others.



Mark Jacobs rolled 21 using 4 dice with the WEG Classic system with rolls of 3,3,{Wild}6(+3),6. Streetwise

The Force(Wild Die) is with me

The man that Mark questions seems to be in a hurry, and doesn't actually stop for more than a split second.  Instead he turns and keeps on walking backwards as he point in the direction he came from.  "Down there.  Big building.  You can't miss it."

He starts to turn to face the way he's going, then hesitates just long enough to add a bit of extra information, "But I wouldn't go there just now.  Area is full of stormtroopers." before continuing to move away.

"There's trouble brewing, and there'll be even more, if they find who they're looking for!" he yells over his shoulder.

After the man leaves, Mark turned to the others. "Let's go and try to find some answers."

Mark didn't know who the Imperials but he felt that he should try to learn what he could. If the information turned out to be helpful or not, he'd figure that out later.

Mark continued to walk towards the medcenter and looked for someone that might be willing to talk.

The recon team continue in the indicated direction, and soon reach a point where they can see an open area between two buildings.  Across that space, less than fifty metres away, is the entrance to the medcentre.  The structure seems to loom over them, far taller than any of the surrounding buildings.

Unfortunately, between them and the entrance are about forty troopers and an AT-ST.

A woman is there, dressed in dark coloured clothing, civilian styles.  She is talking to a couple of stormtrooper officers, and pointing first at the doors, and then at some of the higher floors.

Looking upwards reveals that there are enclosed bridges, connecting the main building to some of the nearby structures.

Then she turns away, and heads inside.  The stormtroopers follow her, leaving the AT-ST on guard.

Mark let out a low whistle. There certainly was a large imperial presence. He stayed for a few minutes before he finally turned and move out.

"Well everybody has been scared away. So we won't find any likely people around the streets."

Mark decided to head to the location where their transport should be. However, he kept an eye out for a local pub. Sometimes a drink might loosen up some lips.

"Bar is best," Shard mutters, glancing about in search of both a watering hole and watchers.  "We shouldn't be out and about, either.  With everyone keeping under cover, it's a safe bet we'll be noticed - by the wrong people, as well." 

Stormtroopers are as bad as clouds - they start gathering, things are definitely headed south.

"And a walker."  She shakes her head, bemused.  "What are they after, a mob of angry Wookies?"  The older woman rubs her forehead, struggling to massage away the tension.  "We need to find out what's going on.  Fast."

As the group turn to find somewhere less obvious to gather information, a faint hum reaches their ears from somewhere above, followed by a blaster shot, then an odd crackling sound, and a scream.

A moment later a shape falls from one of the connecting bridges and plummets to the ground, where it lays unmoving, only a few metres away.  The broken form of a stormtrooper, his armour damaged by the impact.  Since the bridges are entirely enclosed, it's clear that he must have been on top of it, for some reason.

Looks like now might be a really good time to get out of sight.

"Drek!" Shard hisses, a truly foul word from where she grew up (much to the amusement of the rest of the galaxy).  The situation has gone from bad to worse - much, much worse.  Shoving Jacobs, she urges him toward the nearest doorway.  "Movemovemove, we have to get out of here," the weathered woman mutters, her tone cracking on the edge of hysteria.

Laugh or cry?  Tough question.

At least we know what the woman was pointing at, she considers.  "Forty troopers and a walker," she growls, still shoving Jacobs (putting her back against him and shuffling if necessary).  "Not gonna be enough."  The imperials have a much bigger fish to fry than a small troupe of rebels - there's a killing machine in this city, empty-hearted and ruthless.

"And I don't want to meet it."

"Whoa. I'm moving."

Mark Jacobs moves as Shard shoved him. He didn't know where they were headed at this point. But it was as far as they could get in a short time.

"Let's find the nearest watering hole. We need to blend in quickly."

The bar is much classier than the last one they were in, with gleaming droids waiting on the immaculately polished tables, and a bartender whose smile looks to be genuine.  It doesn't even falter when he spots Shisskurr, "Hello there.  Welcome to Zaram's.  What can I get for you people?"

The menus of food and beverages look to be extensive, and not too overpriced.

Clearly this place is not your typical wretched hive of scum and villainy.  Everything is clean, for one thing, and it's all lit brightly enough that it would be hard to hide any serious imperfections.

All of which probably explains why there are a lot of people in here, most of them human, but with a few aliens mixed in.  None of them are openly armed.

Relieved to be away from the situation, Shard pauses for a moment to take in their surroundings.  "This isn't a 'watering hole'," she sing-songs quietly to Jacobs and Shisskurr.  "Stall.  Or something.  We have to know what's going on out there."

Taking a step back, she glances out the window of the bar, hunting to see if she can catch the reaction of the squad of troopers and their heavily armed and armored walker.  "Just what we needed," the woman mutters.  "More complications.  Complications we gotta know about."

Much as her own feelings scream at her to just leave, to run away and not look back, Shard knows this sort of thing can't be ignored.  The information could be valuable - critical - to the rebellion.  Or maybe it's someone from another Rebel cell out there...

Wouldn't that be just wonderful? she sourly considers.

Mark immediately felt disturbed. The weight of the blaster at his hip seemed heavier. He felt it was a black hole that drew all eyes to it. Mark tried to relax and smile. "A table."

Mark walked slowly to the table. He checked the establishment for additional exits. The entrance was obvious. But if they needed a fast exit, he wanted to be prepared.

Making their way to a table, the two humans and their trandoshan ally try to look inconspicuous.  One of the droids, seemingly modelled to remind a viewer of a human female, hurries across to them and lays a small stack of menus down on the table, before announcing in a cheery voice, "Welcome to Zaram's.  The special today is braised gorss steak in a fenti bean sauce.  There is thirty four minutes of Happy Hour remaining.  I shall return shortly to take your order."  She turns and speeds away.

"Give us a few minutes." Mark replied to the droid's retreating back.

He waited until the droid left Mark whispered, "This would have been a nice place for you to finally buy me that drink. But we need eyes on what's going on outside. Two doors that lead to the refresher, maybe they have a window. There's a door to the kitchen, and finally a fourth in the far corner that might be an emergency exit."

"Want to see if you can peek out the window of the refresher?"

Leaning against her chair's back, Shard crooks a finger, beckoning Jacobs over.  "If you take my chair, I'll do that," she whispers.  The finger pokes toward the window.  "Quick.  From here, I've got a dozen troopers on the roof, hunting."

Hunting a monster.  She doesn't envy them the task.

"You keep an eye on them from here, and I'll see what kind of angle I can get from the ladies' room."  The lean, hardened woman pushes herself up, wincing as a spike of pain runs through one knee, then pauses, cocking her eyebrow at Jacobs.  "Still on for that drink.  And the story." 

Quick steps take her across the room to the fresher; Shard first checks to see if anyone else is in the small room, then hunts for a window.  Jacobs made a good point - the more vantage points they have, the better the odds of spotting something important.

She shivers.  Or someone.
This message was last edited by the GM at 16:50, Thu 02 Dec 2010.

Shisskurr joins Mark Jacobs near the window, and from their new vantage point they can just make out the tail end of a group of stormtroopers on the roof of one of the covered bridges leading away from the medcentre.  Then they are hidden, as the corner of another building blocks the view of them.