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Post by Deleted on Jan 20, 2016 21:37:53 GMT -8
Umgul City Starport
The Aimee Alexandra had been assigned one of the largest of the large commercial docks used for luxury liners, and it was fitting for a massive vessel like the ZD-9000, capable of carrying over two thousand persons. A little more than fifteen minutes after arriving in the system, Stryfe's chosen ride had touched down, after following the course laid out by Umgul control. When the signal was given by the crew, she was dismissed from her inner cabin, and descended the long passenger ramp into the busy Starport terminal, her bulky black travelling case rolling and bumping along behind her, almost like an extra appendage.
Stryfe took a deep breath of the foreign, humid air, testing it for the first time, then joined the long queue of passengers waiting to present their documentation to customs and be cleared to enter the planet. The captain had characterized the inspection as routine, but Stryfe was on alert, and had her id clenched firmly in hand.
The Aimee Alexandra herself would refuel, take on any new passengers, and proceed to her final destination of Naboo.
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Deleted
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Post by Deleted on Jan 21, 2016 1:42:30 GMT -8
Nebulosity
Taking a seat when led into the private dining room, Anila has no discernible reaction when the hooded figure reveals himself to be one of the Vyridian twins that have been so much in Umgul's holonews of late; though inwardly she is surprised, curious, and given that one of the Vyridian's is wanted for all but executing several members of an alleged criminal organization, more than a little apprehensive. Resisting the urge to tense up or otherwise reveal her sudden wariness, Anila does a remarkable job of appearing cool and collected as whichever of the Vyridian twins it is that has hired her explains just what he has hired her for.
The name of her intended victim means nothing at all to the Clawdite, though Anila assumes that the Hutt is a criminal of one kind or another, but the conditions the Vyridian twin want her to adhere to in the course of assassinating the Hutt are odd enough that she cannot help but betray some surprise as, once the last of the conditions has been listed, she asks in an incredulous tone, "You want me to do this while impersonating you? The request makes little sense, at least until it occurs to her that the twins may not be as close as the press coverage she has seen while waiting to be contacted by her mysterious employer suggests they are; there may be, Anila thinks, some kind of feud, or plot, between the two. Reconsidering the wisdom of asking too many questions, Anila lifts a hand and retracts her question, Never mind, I don't need to know the why. Drumming her fingers softly on the datacard, Anila says, While I can make myself look like you, and I'm good enough with a blade to look like I know what I'm doing with, she ceases her drumming and pats the lightsaber, this, there's no way I can move with the kind of speed a Force user can call on, and no way to do any of the other things a Force user can. How can you be sure people will see me and think I'm really you? And, just for the record, so I can adjust my . . . performance accordingly, which of the Vyridian twins are you?"
Umgul City Starport
As Stryfe nears the customs officers - a pair of uniformed, porcine, vaguely humanoid Ugnaughts - tending to the line of passengers that, thanks either to the efficiency of the Ugnaught duo or the fact neither makes much of an effort to be polite or engage those they assist in anything remotely resembling casual conversation, moves along steadily enough, she may have time to gain a sense of just what type of security it is she will be facing when her turn arrives. Passengers will first be asked to step through a Doppraymagno scanner, which has been equipped with the features of standard security scanners , with their luggage - the doppler imaging, X-rays, and magnetic resonance imaging employed by the device enabling the Ugnaughts to, in addition to detect the presence of any weapons or explosives passing through it, to also "see inside" both living beings and other objects - and then, while one Ugnuaght inspects their personal documents for any signs of fraud or tampering, checking the names and photos against local and intergalactic law enforcement databases, the other physically inspects the luggage passengers have brought with them.
Once Stryfe reaches the head of the line, one of the white maned Ugnaughts grunts and waves a hand to motion her through the Doppraymagno scanner.
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Deleted
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Post by Deleted on Jan 21, 2016 22:43:50 GMT -8
Umgul City Starport
Stryfe's nose crinkled every so slightly when the slightly-overweight woman caught sight of the Ugnaughts. But she wasn't here to make small talk, and so their unfriendly attitude really didn't matter. Stepping through the scanners, she paused while the doppler, x-ray, and magnetic resonance imaging scanned her person and her large, rolling black leather travel case. Stryfe's body displayed nothing worth registering, aside from the steel toes in her boots, a comlink and two earpieces in her pocket, and her belt buckle. The suitcase was where the real excitement lay. There were some clothes (boring), but also a large quantity of audio and visual recording and editing equipment, complete with cameras and microphones of several sizes, wireless transmitters, and almost a hundred meters of cables. Additionally, there were small bottles of organic liquids, all carefully labeled with manufacturer's original labels, identifying them as cleaning solvents, and an inch-long knife, which a smart, experienced screener would know was probably for cutting the video cables to length. On most worlds, any blade shorter than the width of a palm was ignored, and although she did not know local laws, Stryfe had decided to risk it.
While she waited for the outcome of her baggage screening, Stryfe handed a Republic-issued card to the other screener. The high-quality fake should have been indistinguishable from the real item by anyone except persons with direct access to the Republic database, and the name, Maria Uongo, was clean. Even if she were using her real name, Stryfe had no recorded criminal history that would have flagged her, and she was hoping to avoid committing any crimes on Umgul, but she hated leaving a trail.
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Deleted
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Post by Deleted on Jan 22, 2016 22:52:27 GMT -8
Bane had arrived to Umgul aboard the SoroSuub Horizon Class Star Yacht known as the Physicians Hand, as apart of the Princess Isis Matango's increased security detail. And now, he sat atop the transport, after having submitted his dual sabers and pistols through Umgul security so that if he did cause trouble, they'd be able to track him down. He honestly wasn't sure why he'd been assigned to this detail, after all, with the amount of force users the Princess was surrounded by, as well as her own adeptness within the force, his assistance was almost a little overkill. Although, that said, he suspected that this was merely a test of his skills, as he sat there on sentry duty of sorts, reaching out with the force to sense for any danger that might be passing through the spaceport, as he waited for Liv to check in
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Post by Deleted on Jan 23, 2016 10:00:00 GMT -8
Umgul City Starport
The dwarven duo of Ugnaughts grunt and squeal at one another in low chattering voices, the one inspecting the luggage gesturing on occasion at an item it holds aloft while the Ugnaught examining the Republic-issued card crinkles his porcince nose while squinting skeptically; his skepticism not born from doubt as to the document's validity, but rather from an uncertainty as to whether or not his fellow inspector's concerns might be valid. With a shrug of his shoulders after a moment or two spent internally debating whether or not the sheer amount of equipment is cause for concern, the one Ugnaught appears to reassure the other, which in turn appears to reassure the second given that, once they have exchanged another series of grunts and squeals, he sets about returning all the equipment he had removed with the same courteous, careful respect he had taken it out and displayed it for his fellow inspector.
Handing the identification card back to the traveler, the slightly taller of the two Ugnaughts says in surprisingly flawless Basic, "Thank you. Move along please," and points to the area where it's companion, not as adept at speaking Basic, returns Stryfe's luggage to her while grunting something that ends with a squeal and sounds vaguely like 'have nice day'.
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Post by R2-683 on Jan 23, 2016 13:59:44 GMT -8
Umgul City Starport
As the passengers disembarked, one of the astromech droids that had dutifully served them behind the scenes rolled along among them, going as fast as its wheels could carry it. A series of shrill beeps and whoops emerged from its cylindrical body, warning the passengers as best it could to get out of its way as it surged through the concourse. The small R2 unit almost screeched to a halt as it hit the first security checkpoint, its sensor eye falling squarely on one of the two Ugnaught security guards.
With loud chirps and raucous chassis language, the silver and teal R2 unit hoped that these men - their species known largely as junkers and mechanics - would understand it. One of the reactors aboard the ship was reported as being in critical condition by the ship's computer, which the mechanics on the ship itself were unable to repair. Reports were conflicting, but this droid, being the unofficial head of the Aimee Alexandra's behind-the-scenes operations, wasn't about to take the chance on a ship that carried thousands of passengers.
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Deleted
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Post by Deleted on Jan 23, 2016 21:50:41 GMT -8
Umgul City Starport
Fortunately for the apparently distressed astromech, Howahkan, the taller of the two Ugnaughts, speaks Binary every bit as fluently as he speaks Basic, and so grasps the nature of the astromech's concern immediately, and is already reaching for his comlink so that he can contact those who will coordinate the necessary response effort before the last beep or chirrup has sounded forth from the silver and teal R2 unit.
Unfortunately for all present in the customs screening area, the 8 year old human boy standing in the middle of his haggard looking parents also speaks Basic, only not quite as fluently as Howahkan, and so exclaims in a voice that sounds more excited than worried, "MOM! DAD!! That dwoid to'd dose Uggynaughty dudes dat a ship is gonna freakin' 'splode!!!!"
The boy's exclamation results in the predictable general confused panic one would expect, disembarking passengers freaking out and in one degree of panic or another trying to learn what is going on or to get as far from the area as possible as quickly as possible. The four Starport security guards on the scene at the time things become a mess do their best to keep things orderly despite their own initial confusion, and when the accurate news filters down to them from the additional Starport personnel that come to help manage the crisis, do what they can to guide the new arrivals that have not yet been screened to another customs processing area away from the portion of the Starport calculated to be in the zone of damage should the astromech's concerns prove valid.
While Howahkan and his co-workers endeavor to see to the new arrivals, a team of mechanics, engineers, and LE-series repair droids rush towards the Aimee Alexandra to determine whether the reactor in question is, in fact, in critical condition, and, should it prove to be, whether or not they can effect the repairs necessary to avert disaster . . .
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Post by R2-683 on Jan 24, 2016 0:03:11 GMT -8
The Aimee Alexandra's Engineering Deck
Following behind the repair team and desperately trying to keep pace, R2-683 zipped back the way it came, thankful there were significantly fewer sentients in its way. By the time the ship came back into view, most of the repair team had made their way inside and most of the passengers had made their way off, leaving only one sprightly Ithorian running in a mad sprint to the concourse. The hammerheaded alien was easily dodged by the astromech droid, leaving nobody in its way as it went full throttle into the belly of the ship.
Using the droid-only express elevator not far from one of the access ports, the astromech shot down to the engineering deck, rolling onto a catwalk that oversaw the ship's primary, secondary, and tertiary reactors. According to the R5 droid tasked with maintaining it, there had been an inconsistency within the reactor itself that had caused a massive power spike. The spike had since subsided, but whatever had caused it triggered a slow build-up of energy that was threatening to make the reactor go critical.
The silver astromech couldn't help but notice that for a reactor that was fit to blow, it looked fine. Even at its current distance, some ten meters away, five meters up, and half-blocked by a safety wall before it engaged the pistons attaching its wheeled feet to its primary legs, R2-683 could see nothing wrong with the reactor causing its ship such grief. Unfortunately, it was a problem that its team of astromechs simply were not equipped to handle. With any luck, the Umgul mechanics were as talented as they were fast.
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Olivia Styles
Red Dawn Medical Center - RDMC
Posts: 16 
Affiliation: RDMC
Traffic Light: Yellow
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Post by Olivia Styles on Jan 24, 2016 13:25:58 GMT -8
Umgul City Starport - (Answering Bane)
At the security station, Lieutenant Olivia "Liv" Styles waited patiently for the Umgul Starport Security to get through with checking all of her weapons (see bio for list) and credentials. She had arrived aboard the Physicians Hand, along with the Honoghr group. As head of the Princesses security detail it was her duty to accompany the group to Umgul. It wasn't often that the Princess just randomly up and left Honoghr on a moments notice, so when Liv was informed of the impromptu travel plans she was rather happy to go.
Now after having already gone through the process of being scanned, she glanced around the starport taking in the size of the structure and people milling about. She looked back to one of the Ugnaughts that had collected her credentials and weapons when he made a grunting noise and held out the items to her. Arching an amused eyebrow, she took her things from him and reattached both pairs of the fighting batons to her back via maglocks with one hand while pocketing her credentials with the other. Reaching out again, she took the two pairs of collapsible batons he held out to her and put them in the specially designed holsters attached to her thighs. With a quick polite thanks, she turned and began walking back to the Physicians Hand.
As she covered the distance to the ship she kept a casual, but ever watchful, eye out noting the starports security personnel, exit points, and one rather excited droid that was chirping and beeping to the Umgul security personnel. She couldn't really hear what the droid was trying to convey, due to the distance and other noise in the starport, but whatever it was had the security scrambling. She had also noticed a little boy speaking excitedly to his parents, but couldn't make out what was being said. Then it seemed as if some kind of panic hit the people in the nearby vicinity of the security station. It wasn't long until more security showed up and began to take control of the situation. Narrowing her eyes a bit, Liv continued walking while still keeping a watchful eye on things, the recent developments in the starport in the back of her mind.
Once back inside the Physicians Hand on the opposite side of the starport, she could hear Ursula, the HRD nanny for the Princesses son, mildly complaining to nobody in particular about having to go through the spaceport security just a little while ago. Chuckling to herself, Liv grabbed two bottles of water out of the galley's fridge and climbed the ladder to the hatch that led up to the top of the ship where she knew Bane would be because she had seen him when she was at the security station. Closing the hatch behind her, she strode over to him and gently nudged his shoulder with one of the water bottles.
"Hey Big Man....you thirsty?"
She quipped with half smirk as she sat down beside him on the roof of the ship and handed him one of the bottles. As she opened her bottle, she pointed the tip of it toward the security station.
"Looks like something is going on over there. That droid was trying to alert the security to something but I couldn't hear what it was. We'll keep an eye on the situation, maybe get one of the passing guards to tell us what's happening." She paused taking a drink from the water bottle before speaking in a lower tone, her eyes sweeping the expanse of the starport. "I've got a bad feeling about this...."
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Deleted
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Post by Deleted on Jan 24, 2016 22:58:15 GMT -8
Umgul City Starport
As the commotion in the spaceport went down, Bane remained unphased, as security determined that the Physicians Hand was well out of the blast range and so concentrated their efforts elsewhere, leaving the man to wonder what was going on. From this distance, even if he used the force to enhance his hearing, he'd still have trouble hearing what was going on, but at a guess, it seemed like there had been some sort of security scare, a fact which was confirmed by the fear he felt from people in the force. As he sensed Liv approaching the ship, he reeled himself back in, just in time as she appeared from the hatch and walked over to tap him on the shoulder. Of all the people he could have been assigned on this mission with, he was glad that it had been Olivia, since the pair were old drinking buddies, and were a good pair in a fight Water? Well that's disappointing... He took the bottle none the less, before removing the mask that he wore both for protection and because of the utility it afforded him, what with the built in commlink and atmospheric rebreather. He set it down next to him as he drank a mouthful of water, figuring that it was better for them to both be sober, as Liv pointed out the commotion that was going on, before expressing her feelings about it all "When don't you have a bad feeling about these things? I'm sure it'll be fine. Besides, we've dealt with some of the worst of the worst with the Cinn Ion. What ever this is, will be a cake walk..."
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Zane Shadolen
The Jedi Order - Corellian Jedi Academy
On our way to Dantooine!
Posts: 40 
Affiliation: Corellian Jedi Order
Traffic Light: Green
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Post by Zane Shadolen on Jan 25, 2016 2:43:44 GMT -8
Furgan Medical Center - CourtyardShaking her head as though rousing from a daydream, when, his routine having ended, the Jedi kneels and appears to begin meditating, Sabatina sips the last of her stim-caf and, after pausing while considering speaking to the Jedi to offer him congratulations on his recovery thusfar only to decide he would probably prefer to be left to his meditation, turns to make her way from the courtyard towards the nearby Monorail station. . . |
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Post by Deleted on Jan 25, 2016 18:07:07 GMT -8
Nebulosity
"You want me to do this while impersonating you? The request makes little sense, at least until it occurs to her that the twins may not be as close as the press coverage she has seen while waiting to be contacted by her mysterious employer suggests they are; there may be, Anila thinks, some kind of feud, or plot, between the two. Reconsidering the wisdom of asking too many questions, Anila lifts a hand and retracts her question, Never mind, I don't need to know the why. Drumming her fingers softly on the datacard, Anila says, While I can make myself look like you, and I'm good enough with a blade to look like I know what I'm doing with, she ceases her drumming and pats the lightsaber, this, there's no way I can move with the kind of speed a Force user can call on, and no way to do any of the other things a Force user can. How can you be sure people will see me and think I'm really you? And, just for the record, so I can adjust my . . . performance accordingly, which of the Vyridian twins are you?" Snapping her answer at the Changeling impatiently, Helaine asks in an irritated voice dripping with sarcasm, "Did I ask you to announce who you were during the course of the assassination? Just kill the Hutt, people see and believe what they want to see, and will see who and what I want them to see so long as you do as I've asked. Sighing in exasperation, Helaine rubs the root of her nose and adds with a dismissive flick of her hand, Watch some holonet footage if you need to, just kill the Hutt and however many of his minions are unfortunate enough to get in your way. You came highly recommended, so I trust you possess the wit to think of something to make your performance, Helaine sneers the Changeling's own word back at her, believable."In the end, Helaine thinks, it matters little which of the Vyridian's the public believes to be behind the killings. Both twins are tied to Umgul's present government, and if the plan to implicate them succeeds it will be that much easier to lead the public to distrust the government which has backed the twins so openly for so long. With Andros being so publicly renowned as a misanthropic, peevish, moody figure, Helaine harbors little doubt that it is he that the public and those in law enforcement will suspect when it becomes more difficult to dismiss the idea that he may be involved in the crimes which have and will be perpetrated by someone appearing to be Umgul's Vice Governor. "You will not be alone, Helaine continues after a brief pause. Someone will be in place near the club to help facilitate your escape should the city's law enforcement officers respond to the situation quickly enough. Sneering at the Changeling, Helaine says impatiently, Now, unless you have any other inane questions, I believe we're through here." |
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Post by Deleted on Jan 25, 2016 22:13:08 GMT -8
Umgul City Starport
While the staff inside the spaceport endeavor to gain control of the panic and restore some semblance of order, and as their organic counterparts stop at what has been determined to be the minimum safe distance should the Aimee Alexandra go BOOM! , the trio of LE-series repair droids the team of mechanics and engineers will be assisting and advising via com-link from that safe distance continue on towards the ship and its potentially critical reactor.
The trio of droids forget to space themselves apart as they board the A.A., clanging together and getting stuck in the entrance hatch briefly before managing to extricate themselves.
Knuckleheads! the middle LE, M.0.3. declares while bopping its counterparts - L.A.R.R.1. and C.U.R.L.1. - atop their heads as it pushes them aside and leads the way into the ship to determine the nature of the problem and avert the potential disaster if possible. As M.0.3. heads down to the engineering deck to coordinate efforts with R2-683, L.A.R.R.1. and C.U.R.L.1. scramble to other points in the A.A. to access maintenance records, diagnostics logs, and other information that could reveal what, if anything, had given rise to the current status of the reactor.
When first examining the data and reports from M.0.E. along with the information retrieved from it's fellow LE's, the mechanics and engineers are puzzled by the lack of any supporting evidence that anything is, in fact, amiss, but after an hour passes and the team of droids send additional information to them, collectively - and only figuratively - smack themselves in the foreheads when they learn the source of all of the chaos and panic is something that is, in all reality, not only very simple to fix, but also nothing terribly threatening after all. It all, in the end, comes down to a loose screw. Of course, the screw should have secured a sensor in place, and the sensor in turn should have accurately measured what it was supposed to measure so that the ship's systems made calculations and hazard assessments accurately, but little things sometimes play more important roles than their relative size suggests they could.
In any event, R2-683 and M.0.E. see that the screw once more secures the sensor it is meant to secure while the organic engineers and mechanics relay the good news to the Starport's managers, who happily reassure the travelers and employees within the Starport that the crisis was, in fact, a false alarm, and breathe a collective sigh of relief as they continue to work to get everything running as smoothly as possible once more.
Furgan Medical Center - Courtyard
Turning when Zane calls out to her, Sabatina does not for so much as a moment entertain the idea of honestly answering the question he asks her after she walks back towards him as he puts on his medical robe; not because she wishes to deceive the Jedi, but because she has always believed that she must leave her personal life, worries, and concerns behind when she is at work, just as she believes that, even when she might be off the clock, she represents not only the medical center, but her chosen profession as well, any time she is in uniform.
And so Sabatina smiles as she says, "I'm doing very well, thank you, before, her attention always being on endeavoring to learn if there is anything she can do in order to enhance the well-being of the medcenter's patient's in any way, she asks with genuine concern and interest, And what about you, Knight Shadolen? You've certainly made excellent progress in your physical recovery, congratulations. Her head tilting to the side at an inquisitive angle, Sabatina probes delicately, How are you coming along in other areas of your recovery?"
Nebulosity
Though she clenches her jaw tightly, and feels the heat of anger rising to her neck and cheeks as Vyridian - whichever one of the twins he is - unleashes his tirade, Anila maintains her professionalism and composure through his ranting. Having questioned her employer led to Vyridian's outburst in the first place, and so Anila only shakes her head when he has finished by asking whether or not she has other questions, "Only one more question, Anila says coolly while she stands from her chair, When do you want the job completed?"
After she has her answer, Anila leaves the restaurant, turning her mind towards ways in which she might be able to more convincingly portray a Force user despite the fact she has none of their abilities. When she reaches her airspeeder and powers the repulsorlifts up in preparation of lifting off into the city's traffic, Anila smiles when an idea comes to mind as to how she just might be able to simulate an ability of a Force user convincingly after all.
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Olivia Styles
Red Dawn Medical Center - RDMC
Posts: 16
Affiliation: RDMC
Traffic Light: Yellow
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Post by Olivia Styles on Jan 26, 2016 1:32:48 GMT -8
Umgul City StarportAs the commotion in the spaceport went down, Bane remained unphased, as security determined that the Physicians Hand was well out of the blast range and so concentrated their efforts elsewhere, leaving the man to wonder what was going on. From this distance, even if he used the force to enhance his hearing, he'd still have trouble hearing what was going on, but at a guess, it seemed like there had been some sort of security scare, a fact which was confirmed by the fear he felt from people in the force. As he sensed Liv approaching the ship, he reeled himself back in, just in time as she appeared from the hatch and walked over to tap him on the shoulder. Of all the people he could have been assigned on this mission with, he was glad that it had been Olivia, since the pair were old drinking buddies, and were a good pair in a fight Water? Well that's disappointing... He took the bottle none the less, before removing the mask that he wore both for protection and because of the utility it afforded him, what with the built in commlink and atmospheric rebreather. He set it down next to him as he drank a mouthful of water, figuring that it was better for them to both be sober, as Liv pointed out the commotion that was going on, before expressing her feelings about it all "When don't you have a bad feeling about these things? I'm sure it'll be fine. Besides, we've dealt with some of the worst of the worst with the Cinn Ion. What ever this is, will be a cake walk..." |
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Post by R2-683 on Jan 27, 2016 17:31:59 GMT -8
Umgul City Starport
While the staff inside the spaceport endeavor to gain control of the panic and restore some semblance of order, and as their organic counterparts stop at what has been determined to be the minimum safe distance should the Aimee Alexandra go BOOM! , the trio of LE-series repair droids the team of mechanics and engineers will be assisting and advising via com-link from that safe distance continue on towards the ship and its potentially critical reactor.
The trio of droids forget to space themselves apart as they board the A.A., clanging together and getting stuck in the entrance hatch briefly before managing to extricate themselves.
Knuckleheads! the middle LE, M.0.3. declares while bopping its counterparts - L.A.R.R.1. and C.U.R.L.1. - atop their heads as it pushes them aside and leads the way into the ship to determine the nature of the problem and avert the potential disaster if possible. As M.0.3. heads down to the engineering deck to coordinate efforts with R2-683, L.A.R.R.1. and C.U.R.L.1. scramble to other points in the A.A. to access maintenance records, diagnostics logs, and other information that could reveal what, if anything, had given rise to the current status of the reactor.
When first examining the data and reports from M.0.E. along with the information retrieved from it's fellow LE's, the mechanics and engineers are puzzled by the lack of any supporting evidence that anything is, in fact, amiss, but after an hour passes and the team of droids send additional information to them, collectively - and only figuratively - smack themselves in the foreheads when they learn the source of all of the chaos and panic is something that is, in all reality, not only very simple to fix, but also nothing terribly threatening after all. It all, in the end, comes down to a loose screw. Of course, the screw should have secured a sensor in place, and the sensor in turn should have accurately measured what it was supposed to measure so that the ship's systems made calculations and hazard assessments accurately, but little things sometimes play more important roles than their relative size suggests they could.
In any event, R2-683 and M.0.E. see that the screw once more secures the sensor it is meant to secure while the organic engineers and mechanics relay the good news to the Starport's managers, who happily reassure the travelers and employees within the Starport that the crisis was, in fact, a false alarm, and breathe a collective sigh of relief as they continue to work to get everything running as smoothly as possible once more.
As the repairs continued - R2-683 swooping down to oversee some of the finer details - the astromech droid continued to observe the repairs, watching the Umgul repair droids and the coming sentient crew with a watchful sensor eye. It was going to have a very long, very frank series of chirps and beeps with the droid that had caused all of this ruckus. It was then going to provide a full report to the captain, explain just how out of hand the situation had gotten and how it had been brought under control. After that, it was going to send a shorter series of chirps and beeps to another member of a different crew to see if their job had been done. And once all of that had been accomplished, there came the long and boring task of running a full systems check of the Aimee Alexandra, just to make absolutely sure that the luxury cruiser was indeed ready for another interstellar voyage. What was already promising to be a long day just earned all of the sentient crewmembers a good bit of overtime. |
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Deleted
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Post by Deleted on Jan 27, 2016 22:41:38 GMT -8
Umgul City Starport
The dwarven duo of Ugnaughts grunt and squeal at one another in low chattering voices, the one inspecting the luggage gesturing on occasion at an item it holds aloft while the Ugnaught examining the Republic-issued card crinkles his porcince nose while squinting skeptically; his skepticism not born from doubt as to the document's validity, but rather from an uncertainty as to whether or not his fellow inspector's concerns might be valid. With a shrug of his shoulders after a moment or two spent internally debating whether or not the sheer amount of equipment is cause for concern, the one Ugnaught appears to reassure the other, which in turn appears to reassure the second given that, once they have exchanged another series of grunts and squeals, he sets about returning all the equipment he had removed with the same courteous, careful respect he had taken it out and displayed it for his fellow inspector.
Handing the identification card back to the traveler, the slightly taller of the two Ugnaughts says in surprisingly flawless Basic, "Thank you. Move along please," and points to the area where it's companion, not as adept at speaking Basic, returns Stryfe's luggage to her while grunting something that ends with a squeal and sounds vaguely like 'have nice day'. After giving the Ugnaughts an annoyed glare for having unpacked her carefully stuffed luggage, and no doubt tangled some of her cabling in the process, Stryfe accepted the fake identification and the reassembled travel case, and passed on through the checkpoint and out into the streets of Umgul City, leaving the Starport behind her as quickly as she could. They'd been predictably excited by the perfectly innocent equipment, but she'd known they would have trouble justifying any seizure. It could have been spy kit, or the livelihood of an independent filmmaker. Cherub HotelPausing to wipe sweat from her forehead and face after walking many blocks across the city, her case rolling beside her, Stryfe paused in the shadow of a cheerful six-story hotel to cough and wheeze and contemplate her next moves. She needed information about the Raceways, but first she needed a place to store her equipment. Studying the hotel carefully, she observed the fraying red and white awning, the brilliant three-story-tall smiling pink angels painted on the front of the building, and the aged but well-cleaned and maintained brickwork. The hotel had a certain charm, but it wasn't the latest fashion, or the highest scale. In fact, it was beneath the normal social choices of Jenne Borgin - but her cause was worth taking on a new identity from a lower social class. If you're willing to die for something, then you darn well be willing to act like a commoner when needed, too. It would attract less attention. Satisfied, she walked into the lobby, and as she did so, a helpful, athletic young porter took her case in hand. She smiled at him, her cheeks crinkling. "Thank you." Stepping up to the front desk, a long, low counter which smelled of aged cedar, she addressed the host. "A single room, one occupant, for the week, if you please." The tall, thin, sour human male looked down his bespectacled nose, and smiled wanly. "Of course, ma'am. I just need to see some id, and there is a one hundred credit deposit." The rest of the transaction was a mere formality, and soon Stryfe was all alone once more, in a small but well-furnished room with a bed, desk, chair, holonet receiver, fresher, and even a food synthesizer. Grunting and groaning, she lifted her heavy case from the floor where the porter had left it, onto the desk, then collapsed into the chair. Between the nervous encounter with security, the walk, the humidity, and dragging her equipment around, she was exhausted, and her feet were beginning to swell. |
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Post by Deleted on Jan 30, 2016 11:18:19 GMT -8
Nebulosity
"Only one more question, Anila says coolly while she stands from her chair, When do you want the job completed?"
After the message to the florists instructing them to relay the information about the attack on the Hutt to the Mandalorian so that she can be prepared to play her role in the affair has been sent, Helaine does a bit of holonet research on Elikapeka Hekekia, having learned that the more one knows about their playthings before engaging them the easier it is to manipulate and toy with them. After her research is complete, Helaine leaves the restaurant and takes her airspeeder to the Vinoly architectural firm to begin her game.
Inside the firm's office, Helaine approaches the receptionist and asks if she can either meet with or make an appointment to meet with Elikapeka Hekekia to discuss a vacation home she wants the architect to design. |
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Zane Shadolen
The Jedi Order - Corellian Jedi Academy
On our way to Dantooine!
Posts: 40
Affiliation: Corellian Jedi Order
Traffic Light: Green
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Post by Zane Shadolen on Jan 30, 2016 16:57:53 GMT -8
Furgan Medical Center - CourtyardTurning when Zane calls out to her, Sabatina does not for so much as a moment entertain the idea of honestly answering the question he asks her after she walks back towards him as he puts on his medical robe; not because she wishes to deceive the Jedi, but because she has always believed that she must leave her personal life, worries, and concerns behind when she is at work, just as she believes that, even when she might be off the clock, she represents not only the medical center, but her chosen profession as well, any time she is in uniform.
And so Sabatina smiles as she says, "I'm doing very well, thank you, before, her attention always being on endeavoring to learn if there is anything she can do in order to enhance the well-being of the medcenter's patient's in any way, she asks with genuine concern and interest, And what about you, Knight Shadolen? You've certainly made excellent progress in your physical recovery, congratulations. Her head tilting to the side at an inquisitive angle, Sabatina probes delicately, How are you coming along in other areas of your recovery?"
Looking away from her for a moment, he shook his head. He was already divulging too much of his worries to her, and she didn't deserve that burden.
"I apologize, Nurse Begory." He grinned, albeit through the gravity of his frown. "Change of subject, then? I don't suppose they ever managed to find anything as far as the salvaged bits of my ship were concerned, did they? Namely, my weapons and armor? Or, possibly, my personal effects? There was one rather large, black case that I was hoping they may have found...it contained an ages-old sword. Belonged to my father. I guess I'm just trying to consolidate what I can before seeing about my, ah, release..."*The auburn-haired Jedi spoke the last words softly, folding his fingers into the mop of fluff that adorned his head as he lightly scratched his scalp out of sheer nervousness. Why he was nervous was anyone's guess. Perhaps, because he became far too worried about what became of his mother's old ship, or his parents' lightsabers, the armor that he, himself, constructed and put so much time into -- and all of it could be gone, just like that. Perhaps the bigger part of his nervousness revolved around the fact that his concern for those possessions was too great. It wasn't very Jedi of him. However, the Jedi weren't his mother -- and she was the one that Zane would have feared to disappoint all the more. Even though she had gone on to become One with the Force, Zane's thoughts were only of how cross she might be with him if she were ever to find out how careless he had been...* |
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Post by Deleted on Feb 2, 2016 6:36:19 GMT -8
Furgan Medical Center - Courtyard
Sabatina has learned that, no matter how helpful she believes she might be by giving advice or sharing her opinions on matters patients might speak of, that it is almost always better to follow a patient's lead when they suggest a change of subject, and so when Knight Shadolen apologizes for having brought up issues that seem to weigh upon him and then immediately changes the subject to something more innocuous she does not seek to return to the earlier subjects, instead conveying acceptance of the change in subject by laughing as she repeats teasingly, "Your release is it? I wasn't aware you felt as though you're being kept here. Having read the information contained in Knight Shadolen's chart on those occasions she had been assigned as his nurse, Sabatina is able to tell him from memory, You shall have your freedom returned to you, Knight Shadolen, when you are tolerating a regular diet, and when your physical and occupational therapists inform your primary physician that you have satisfactorily completed the rehabilitation regimens they have planned for you. Waving a hand up a down while looking at Zane with her head tilted to the side appraisingly, Sabatina ventures a guess, Based on what I've seen today, I cannot imagine that you will be incarcerated here much longer."
Turning to the other subject the Jedi had broached, Sabatina is on somewhat less certain footing, but knows enough to suggest, "As for your ship, weapons, and other things, I only know that Master Roma, being the closest thing to a relative or with the authority to act on your behalf as we could locate, was given the responsibility for dealing with your medical care and other matters such as the disposition of what remained of your ship, including anything that may have been found in the wreckage."
Umgul City
Anila finishes the last of a bottle of water, and after tossing it in the bin, takes another from the fridge and opens it with a sigh. Looking at the rows upon rows of bottled water in the fridge before closing it, Anila mutters a few select curses about the fact she has been hired to portray someone as damnably tall as Vyridian while walking back towards the apartment's small living room and sitting in front of a battered coffee table that is probably older than she is. Clawdites can only change their appearance into that of other humanoid species, and only those of similar mass, and so it is occasionally necessary for Anila to either gain or lose weight in order to portray a specific individual. Over time, Anila has learned that increasing her intake of water is, while far from pleasant, a relatively quick way to increase her weight.
Picking up her datapad from amidst the partially disassembled IM-6 medical droid on the coffee table, Anila selects one of the videos she has been provided with by her employer and sets it to play, places it on the table, and then picks up a hydrospanner to get back to work on the droid while watching the footage of an old press conference featuring Umgul's current vice governor. Her earlier shopping spree had not been confined to purchasing enough bottled water to stock a bomb shelter and the IM-6, Anila also having purchased several mirrors which she has placed around the apartment as well as a long, blue leather coat similar to one Vyridian had been wearing in some of the footage from the few press conferences he featured in. Looking up from her work, Anila scowls into a mirror, then frowns after seeing that she has not yet successfully captured the right mix of contempt, disdain, and impatience that seems to define Andros Vyridian's public personae. There is, Anila thinks, something else in the vice governor's expression, something in his eyes that, if she can capture it, and understand it, will make her portrayal of him more than simply surface deep. Achieving that level of understanding, unfortunately, may prove difficult, for no matter how much digging Anila has done on the holonet, there is simply not much available about Vyridian or his past, at least nothing that does not require access to secured databases she does not have the skill to slice into.
Setting the thoughts of expressions and impenetrable pasts aside, Anila focuses on the press footage and her work on removing certain pieces of the IM-6 from its frame. As Vyridian said, people see what they want to see, and Anila probably has no need to over complicate her performance by injecting nuances few would notice or appreciate.
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Zane Shadolen
The Jedi Order - Corellian Jedi Academy
On our way to Dantooine!
Posts: 40
Affiliation: Corellian Jedi Order
Traffic Light: Green
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Post by Zane Shadolen on Feb 2, 2016 23:02:24 GMT -8
Furgan Medical Center - CourtyardFurgan Medical Center - Courtyard
Sabatina has learned that, no matter how helpful she believes she might be by giving advice or sharing her opinions on matters patients might speak of, that it is almost always better to follow a patient's lead when they suggest a change of subject, and so when Knight Shadolen apologizes for having brought up issues that seem to weigh upon him and then immediately changes the subject to something more innocuous she does not seek to return to the earlier subjects, instead conveying acceptance of the change in subject by laughing as she repeats teasingly, "Your release is it? I wasn't aware you felt as though you're being kept here. Having read the information contained in Knight Shadolen's chart on those occasions she had been assigned as his nurse, Sabatina is able to tell him from memory, You shall have your freedom returned to you, Knight Shadolen, when you are tolerating a regular diet, and when your physical and occupational therapists inform your primary physician that you have satisfactorily completed the rehabilitation regimens they have planned for you. Waving a hand up a down while looking at Zane with her head tilted to the side appraisingly, Sabatina ventures a guess, Based on what I've seen today, I cannot imagine that you will be incarcerated here much longer."
Turning to the other subject the Jedi had broached, Sabatina is on somewhat less certain footing, but knows enough to suggest, "As for your ship, weapons, and other things, I only know that Master Roma, being the closest thing to a relative or with the authority to act on your behalf as we could locate, was given the responsibility for dealing with your medical care and other matters such as the disposition of what remained of your ship, including anything that may have been found in the wreckage."
He paused for a moment, looking back to Sabatina.
"If...I could ask a favor, Nurse Begory? Is there any means by which I may contact Master Roma? I don't wish to burden anyone with my personal errands; if you have that information, I'd appreciate the knowledge of it. That way, I might finally be able to get out of your hair, eh?"He grinned a little, trying to lighten up the conversation.*In truth, Zane didn't really desire to leave. But, he'd been a bit of a lazy Jedi up to this point. Sure, restoring Dac to the Republic and helping to stop an assault on the Jedi Temple on Corellia had been accomplishments in and of themselves; but the Jedi were needed now more than ever. The Knight felt it, rippling throughout the Force. The galaxy was on the verge of change; and possibly, not for the better. It could be a long and arduous journey ahead for the auburn-haired Jedi. He couldn't afford to let the galaxy pass him by anymore. If Ashla needed him to fight, then fight he would. There could be no greater calling than to serve in the cause of goodness, to serve others, defending them - their lives, their hopes and dreams. He'd given all of what he may have once desired over to the Will of the Force. It was a tough choice, but he felt all the better for making it.*
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