The guys give a weirded out look to the strange trio.  "No..."

Mits smiles and says, "Then you won't mind talking openly about the rocke tlaucher you have hidden in your coffin."

"What the hell?"

"We have no such thing!  Is this some kinda shakedown?"

"I'll prove it."

One of them opens the coffin.  Inside are several stacks of anti-empire fliers and signs.  Mits looks a little disappointed.

"This is turning out to be more challenging than I expected.  I'm tempted to resort to the space voodoo."

Ikia says, "To be upfront; We're looking to join the rebellion. But we don't know how."

  "Ah, well you'll never catch anyone's attention that way long enough to remember you more than ten minutes later."  Matt starts reading one of the fliers considering this is supposed to inspire thought in the local people, apparently.

  "Or we could very specifically say we are in no way owed any thanks for what you were in no way just talking about."

Most of the fliers have very simple messages in gigantic print that fill the entire page with a small subtext at the bottom.

SAVE THE GALAXY!
FIRE THE EMPIRE!
Stand up and defend your world from martial tyranny!  For more information, visit ghn.bugspray.org

I ♥ CIVIL LIBERTIES!
But the Empire hates them!  For more information, visit ghn.bugspray.org

And so forth.  Some have more extensive info, such as copies of the Declaration of Rebellion or a page full of pro-freedom quotes from famous historic people.

"What she said," Mits agrees.

"You bunch are from off world, aren't you?" one of the guys concludes.

"Not much of a rebellion here... yet."

"Give it a year and people will wake up to the reality of the Empire's oppression and finally fight for their rights."

"But we do have contacts.  Give us your contact info and we'll get it to them."

"Why exactly did you want to join?"

Mits keeps her mouth shut... for now.
This message was last edited by the player at 18:10, Thu 19 Nov 2015.

Ikia offers her contact information. "To fight the Empire, of course." she thumbs at the chaos going on. "That man ordered the deaths of people who had nothing to do with this latest occurrence. Under normal circumstances, the troops would have obeyed without question. And that's just what the Empire does to everyone. Upon arriving here, we were met with hostility just for being born another race. That is Empire propaganda. Aliens like myself simply have no future that involves the Empire. My being three feet tall and covered in fur should be enough of a resume on that fact alone."

Mits hands hers over as well.  "What she said.  Also, I was enslaved and tortured by an imperial big-wig.  So it's kindofa personal vendetta for me."

The protesters sweatdrop.  "Yeah.  The Empire is bad news, that's for sure."

"How can we be sure it was you three who disabled the float?"

  "Wait, you want there to be incriminating evidence of who took action against the Empire?  No wonder you guys are having so much trouble."

  He sighs.  "But really, how many people are you going to get walking up to you suggesting such a thing, five minutes after the ones in charge ordered people to fire into a crowd just to LOOK like they caught the right people?  Would you prefer if we walk back to the blimp and loudly announce ourselves, if so you can **** right off and we'll leave you to your fliers.  Because you're the ones really risking life and limb for your cause here right?"

Ikia looks up at Matt, reaches to put a hand on Matt's hip and says calmly, "You do not need to get upset at these men for asking a genuine question. After all, they just met us." she looks back to the men. "But Matt's point about incriminating evidence means you can't be sure. You have to take our word for it. But that is beside the point. Whether we did the float or not doesn't change the fact we wish to find a way to join the alliance."

"Thanks for understanding," one of the guys answers Ikea.

Mits grins to see Matt tell off the suspicious protesters.  She shrugs to Ikea's point.  "That shoe fits both feet.  Could be they're undercover wires trying to get us to confess."

One of the guys scoffs.  "Undercover is a thing of the past.  The Empire doesn't care about confessions or who's guilty.  They just shoot the nearest scapegoat."

"Well I'm convinced.  I'll get that info to our contact.  And thanks for putting an end to that publicity stunt of a parade."

  Could be worse.  Could be Bothans.  Matt has just enough tact to not say it out loud (despite his recent outburst).  "Thank you.  Sorry about that, it's been one of those days."

Ikia looks up at Matt. "It has." she says as if to assure him she feels the same, even if she refuses to show her frustration on the outside.

Keeping her hand on Matt, Ikia then looks at the men, "Alright... in that case, where and when do you recommend we meet up?"

(( Oh and I figure we'd be the equivalent of level 3 by now. ))

"Heh.  You could always ask those three guards in the sewers we knocked out in order to get below the float, but uh...  Could be pretty risky."

"Speaking of risky, setting up a meeting time and place is probably not the best move for you all right now.  You should disappear for a while and wait for the call."

Mits thumbs-ups and heads off with her new friends.

"Let's ditch this planet!"

  "Yeah, I could stand to have some regular paranoia instead special occasion paranoia."
This message was lightly edited by the player at 08:28, Tue 01 Dec 2015.

Ikia says, "All we need to do is find transportation that hasn't been closed off by the empire and/or refuses us service because of our non-human status."

"Shouldn't be too hard to convince these racists to punt us off this planet."

Mits' holo-com rings.  She answers and her master's holo-image appears.  "I had a vision of the three of you arrested at a star port.  Probably best to avoid such a place for now."

"How else are we supposed to get off this planet?"

"I don't know."

  "I would assume something along the lines of 'spend all the money we just made on a private flight'.  Well, that or not leave because we didn't exactly give the pamphlet brigade our contact information"

  We've set up a meeting with-oh they left the planet.

Ikia shrugs. "Maybe what your master is saying is we don't go off world. So we find a place on-world to lay low. Maybe it would be best to just follow those guys from earlier?"

"Why spend when you can steal?" Mits says with a mischievous grin, "We just commandeer one of the Moff's spare vessels and fly ourselves outta here."

Master face disagrees, "Even if one of your new friends is an expert pilot, I wouldn't recommend trying to steal something that valuable from the Empire just yet.  Perhaps after you've joined the Alliance and have an army to retreat to."

"In that case, alien slums is prolly best."

  "Well, maybe we could grab some takeout before we head to the slums then." Such dedication and priorities to your cause and survival, Matt.

Ikia says, "At the high-alert status, and the fact this world very firmly hates aliens, I nominate you for fetching the takeout, Matt. Mittens and I will rendezvous with you at these coordinates." she provides the coordinates of a location in the slums. An alleyway.

If this is agreed upon, Ikia gives Matt her order, waits for Mittens to give her order, and then heads out to the slums.

Ikia is an omnivore like humans. She wants a tuna sub.

Mits is fine with the plan and asks for a tuna sub as well...  with bacon sprinkles.  She'll hand over some creds to cover the cost.

Law enforcement along the way are easy to spot and avoid.  The slums are slummish, but nowhere near the over-the-top death-trap that is the Corescant Undercity or various other hives of scum and villainy in the galaxy.  Just low income aliens who wouldn't think twice about swiping your tuna sub if you set it aside to tie your shoe.

Yeah, Matt figured as much.  Which is why he omn nom nomned his own food by the time they got to depressed land.

Look, it can't all be high profile life or death grade precautions.

Ikia eats her sub once it is delivered. "Thank you, Matt."

While eating, Ikia heads off with Matt and Mittens to find a place to lay low.

"Thanks a mil, Matt!"

Nomnomnomnomnom.   Mmmm!

The slums have a few low-cost rental units here and there.  In the process of getting rooms, the group is approached by a timid Sullustan who bows low, muttering something about awaiting permission to speak.

Mits sweatdrops.  "Sure.  Speak."

<alien>"Please forgive your humble servant this interruption.  I am Girtram, and am at your service, oh powerful visitors.  My generous master is a respected member of the community to whom the lowly citizens of this neighborhood present their concerns.  He wishes to calm their fears and assure them that our most illustrious visitors mean them no harm.  That is why I was sent to welcome you."</alien>

  Highly diplomatic response is go!  "They don't have anything to worry about, unless they are assholes or something."  Good job!