A Kuati female dressed in black and crimson padded battle armor glances keenly about the dilapidated spaceport, finger resting on the trigger of the blaster rifle she cradles as they descend the ramp.

"You really think Stro'to is going to fall for this?" she asks in a low voice, leaning closer to the Falleen.

OOC: Fennec Kang rolled 26 using 1d20+13. Spot.
This message was last edited by the player at 04:10, Fri 04 Mar 2022.

The Falleen preens smugly.

"Obviously. Stro'to couldn't find two hydro-socks in a washing basket, in this outfit--" the Falleen gestures down at his nondescript spacer's outfit (which is perhaps a tad fancier and cleaner than most spacers normally wear such outfits) "--he wouldn't know me from Zuckros."

"You might be less conspicuous if you actually wore that helmet you’re carrying," the woman responds pointedly.

"...True," the Falleen allows, begrudgingly putting it on. "How do you helmet-wearers see where you're going properly in these things anyway?" he complains.

He thinks he catches a smug smirk from the slit in the Kuati’s own helmet.

"I still don’t get why we don’t just bomb the kark out of him and be done with it," grunts a burly human male on the Falleen’s other side.

"Because this is about revenge and suffering," the Falleen sniffs loftily. "There's no suffering in being 'bombed the kark' out of, you die instantly without understanding it was my hand that orchestrated your demise because of your greed, and you never realize that nobody gets to cross me without paying the price for it."

The man shrugs and gives an acquiescing grunt.

"Well," he says as they make their way out of the spaceport and into the sparse crowd on the dusty streets, "Our escape ride’s all set. All we need to do is succeed in getting into Stro’to’s audience room and killing him, then blow the roof off the place."
This message was last edited by the player at 12:20, Sat 05 Mar 2022.

"Precisely," the Falleen agrees. "So just make sure you don't get stingy with the parking inspectors this time and get our ride hyrdo-towed, Lendon, and everything will go as smoothly as selling spice to Zeltrons."

The burly man gives a dark grunt at the mention of the previous misfortune, but before he can respond the comlink at the Falleen’s belt begins to beep.

The Falleen scowls down at it and squints through his helmet, checking the caller ID. With a muttered curse, the Falleen petulantly hits "accept", though he sets the call to audio-only with a VPN that most definitely is not his current location.

"This had better be important, Kesh," the Falleen snaps.
This message was last edited by a game editor at 12:40, Sat 05 Mar 2022.

A static filled response crackles through the comlink.

"You wanted to be informed once we reached the site of the wreckage," Kesh replies in Basic with a thick Durese accent, "Well we've arrived, and our Republic officer lived up to his word and the area appears to be clear. The hull is a mess, but it looks like there's some decent salvage left. Gonna take us days to restore any kind of power, though."
This message was last edited by the player at 22:16, Tue 20 June 2023.

The Falleen visibly brightens. (Or would, if his face was not concealed by his helmet.)

"How many day, Kesh? Three, or more than three?"

"Three should be doable," Kesh allows, his breathing heavy and appearing to come from within a space suit, "Assuming we don't get interrupted."
This message was last edited by the player at 22:17, Tue 20 June 2023.

"Three it is," the Falleen rubs his fingers together greedily. "Work carefully and make sure you're not interrupted, Kesh. We don't want problems with local government or other scavengers."

"Understood," Kesh responds as the comlink clicks off.
This message was last edited by the player at 22:18, Tue 20 June 2023.

"You look happy," the Kuati observes, sending the Falleen a sidelong glance as they pass under a stone archway and into a series of narrower streets.

"How would you know, Fennec? You can't see a thing past this helmet," the Falleen snipes, sounding every inch as smugly pleased as any criminal receiving news of a possible shady salvage missing worth millions of credits would be expected to sound.
This message was last edited by the GM at 23:32, Sat 05 Mar 2022.

"Right," Fennec chuckles as they continue on.
This message was last edited by the player at 23:31, Sat 05 Mar 2022.

It does not take them long to reach the several story, domed building, formed of faded, dusty stone which serves as Stro’to’s base of operations, and after a few more minutes of trekking the winding, dusty streets they arrive in an alleyway across from the entrance.
This message was last edited by the GM at 22:20, Tue 20 June 2023.

Fennec frowns, calling the party to a halt as she peers over a pile of broken canisters.

"No sign of a guard outside," she observes frowning, "And the door is slightly ajar. Either Stro’to is very sloppy or something is amiss."

OOC: Fennec Kang rolled 26 using 1d20+13. Spot.
This message was last edited by the player at 23:31, Sat 05 Mar 2022.

"50 credits says it's option A," the Falleen sneers critically, nevertheless making no effort to move until his minions have scouted the place.

"Wait here with Xizran," Fennec instructs Lendon and the other guards, an Aqualish and a Rodian, as she darts off across the street, keeping to the shadows as best she can.

OOC: Fennec Kang rolled 18 using 1d20+15. Hide.
Fennec Kang rolled 21 using 1d20+13. Move Silently.

"Should have bombed him," Lendon mutters, just loud enough for Xizran to hear.

Fennec makes her way over to the doorway, blaster rifle levelled as she cautiously nudges it open with her foot and picks her way up the darkened flight of stairs within.

"Someone has definitely been through here," she murmurs to Xizran over the comlink on her wrist, "There are bodies everywhere. Stro’to’s guards by the looks of it."