The team is currently aboard a stock freighter hauling an inoccuous cargo. The crew of the vessel are that most rare of currency among the Rebels: skilled people with no suspicious background. All three of them have clean records dating back to birth, so that no investigation will turn up any suspicion or forgery. The ship is likewise legally owned, with no connection to smuggling or Rebel activity.

By direct order from Princess Leia, the crew is to keep their noses clean at all costs. She believes that the long-term value of their spotless reputation far outweighs the value they might contribute as soldiers. The crew have different opinions on this.

"I just want to get out there and mix it up with the Empire!" grumbles Petray, a late-teens human who serves as the navigator.

The ship's mechanic is a rodian named Nimeek. He spent several hours explaining that, while his clan was at war with another clan, his family line was connected and distanced in such a way as to render him a neutral party. He buzzes absently at Petray's words, having heard variations on them many times before.

The Captain-owner is an older human named Milekka Fields. She smiles, a mix of indulgence and wryness.

"When we touch down on Tatooine, you'll have to wait in the ship's smuggling compartments at first. Once they have done their inspection, if they do one at all, we'll let you out. Then you can enter Mos Eisley unnoticed.

"Your contact is an Ithorian, code-named Hammerhead. Apparently he's the only one on the planet, so he shouldn't be hard to find, but he frequents a cantina called Chalmun's. That's all I know." She nods and heads to the cockpit.

You have been given a flimsy, which you are supposed to destroy, listing the mission objectives:

Primary Objective:
 Sabotage: Destroy Jabba the Hutt's operation at the Shayed moisture farm.

Secondary Objectives:
 Combat Victory: Defeat Jabba's enforcer.
 Counter-Intelligence: Plant false trail against Rebel involvement.
 Intelligence: Determine what the operation is
 Personnel: Avoid injuries requiring downtime
 Political Support: Keep the majority of the farm's infrastructure intact.
 Recruiting: Capture a High-Value Target for interrogation.
 Resource Acquisition: Confiscate any readily-usable materials.
 Support: Accomplish as many objectives as possible.

Jess felt the gentle tremble of the ship through the soles of her field boots. She chose a blousey shirt and slacks to mitigate the effects a planet noted for dry heat and two suns. She felt a prickle in her palms at the thought of confronting another hutt.

Drac locks eyes with the young man, the Selonians black beads penetrating the human's wide and colorful marbles. "I'm sure you'll get your chance soon enough, little one," he says in a tone too somber to be truly patronizing. Whether his seriousness comes from a sense of loss or resolve is hard to discern. What is unmistakeable is that Drac speaks from experience, especially as he stows his well-worn light repeater in the smuggling compartment.

Sometime during the flight, he reaches into his vest and pulls out a much smaller blaster. Turning to the ship's mechanic, he inquires, "This keeps catching when I attempt to draw it, and it sticks out too much. Can you address that?"

F3-3T is back in the wilds of space where his circuits feel more free than when sucked by a planets limiting gravity. F3-3T prefers the false gravity created by machines, it is more akin to his chassis, he reaches out and attaches a loose wire tightening up with loving care as the rebel pilots hurl the team toward the Hutts.

F3-3T overhears this Dracmother having issues with his repeating blaster. Most likely his greasy fur has caught in the mechanism and it is now protruding out far too much. The astromech rolls over to the Selonian and beeps out. "I may be of assistance with your fire arm as it should be in good order when we terminate those aligned with the Huttesse. I will take a look at it.." F3-3T extends his armature out toward the large beast halfway. "That is of course if you agree upon something first?".

The beeps and whirls become demanding in tone. "I will fix it Dracmother but you must agree as a Gentlemen that you will not be a scoundrel and try to engage in romantic relations with either Seku Bondara or medical droid, XLT-DD of the Nebulon Frigate "Light Runner"... IF you agree to these terms I will repair your weapon."

Dracmothor looks quizzically at the little droid. Even after leaving his homeworld, he still has little experience and understanding of these artificial life forms. Still, a machine fixing a machine seemed to make sense. He wasn't sure what F3-3T was on about with the Twi'lek and another droid, but he caught enough to say, "I have no intentions of romance. See what you can do." He then hands over his HL-27 light pistol to F3-3T, though he also whispers to the Rodian, "See if he needs any help.

The binary stars in the system give off blinding light even from astronomical units away. The yellow-and-red dot of Tatooine is as unassuming in its own system as it is to the people of the Galaxy. It is surely the best place for a criminal gangster to hide their illicit activites.

System traffic is light, and the approach is easy. You follow the directions of a bored-sounding voice to land in Mos Eisley. "Docking bay 86. Welcome to Tatooine," the controller says curtly before switching off.

"Dull, just the way we like it," Milekka says. She glances over at Petray, who is sitting at the cockpit gunner's station. He gives her a long-suffering look. "Most of us, anyway."

At Nimeek's direction, you slide yourselves into the smuggler's compartments of the ship. These scanner-shielded sections are barely big enough for a person, let alone one with weapons and gear, but he thoughtfully provides you with some snacks. "Use refresher before entering," he warns you. "Not good to get out while inspector here, and uncomfortable to hold for hour." Basic is not his first language, but his meaning is clear.

After the ship lands, you wait in quiet darkness. The air is warm and stuffy, and it's hard to be patient when you don't know how long it will be. Distantly, you can hear words and footsteps on the other side of the shielded panels. It might be inspectors searching for you, soldiers coming for you, or just the crew walking around.

Eventually, after two Standard hours and nineteen minutes, the panels crack open again. Nimeek pulls them aside and lets you out into the fresh air. He offers you some water. "Remember: Water on Tatooine expensive," he warns. "Drink now, while here in ship. Dry and heat not good together."

After recovering a bit, you collect your gear and step out onto the sandy surface of Tatooine. Docking Bay 86 is a round, open-air structure that keeps the wind off you and shields some of the sunlight. Just outside, you can hear the bustle of Mos Eisley.

"Remember, you have seven Standard days before we are scheduled to leave," warns Milekka. "You'll have to balance speed with subterfuge. Good luck, and may the Force be with you."