conversations: human
conversations:  A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away..  
    Star Wars  
    The year is  15 ABY , and it's been that long since our beloved Emperor's hopes were dashed over the forest moon of Endor. It's been a rough road for the shattered Imperial Remnant; beaten, broken, diluted, and betrayed. But you, my loyal friends, you have kept the faith and you will be rewarded greatly. The faith that one day our Empire will rise again, and Palpatine will be known throughout the galaxy as His Imperial Majesty, forever.
  
  Brave souls, loyal Stormtroopers all, you have been selected because you have the highest trust of what is left of our once glorious Empire for a potentially suicidal mission. Not all of you will survive, but, if you can effect some change that sacrifice will not be in vain. Ancient Sith texts speak of the ability to warp space and time using a large concentration of the Force. Hethrir's secret apprentice, Darth Devious, has kept his actions concealed for so long even as the rest of the Empire Reborn has fallen. This last great hope for the Imperial way of life has gathered his forces in secret at a place many of you will be familiar with, the Valley of the Jedi.
  
  Tavion was merely Hethrir's distraction, his last broad stroke even after death. In order for Darth Devious to utilize the true power of the Valley of the Jedi he must have some way to direct it and this will be the first in a series of missions together. The Dark Jedi, Jaden Korr, stole the Scepter of Ragnos for himself before disappearing somewhere on Nar Shadda- but we've followed Jedi Master Kyle Katarn's movements and we may have a chance at finding Jaden Korr first.
  
  Kill him. Claim the Scepter for the Empire. Then we will be able to twist the very fabric of time and set right what once went wrong. That's right, my loyal friends, a one way trip into the past. A series of missions to set up Palpatine's rise to power and make sure he stays there. But be quick and silent, Luke Skywalker and Kyle Katarn may already foresee our plans. You all are the bravest men and women I've ever had the pleasure of leading.
  
  May the Force be with you.  
  
  The words from Commander Tarkin's speech reverberate through your mind on the drop-ship. You are all aboard a  Lambda-class T-4a Shuttle  that is swiftly landing on Nar Shadda. Once a common sight in the galaxy, lately these shuttles have enjoyed sparser appearances the welcoming committee has become more critical of it's appearance, where they dared not criticize before.
  
  This planet, if you can call it that, has always been a wretched hive of scum and villainy known for being a hiding place for rebel spies and sympathizers. But now, more often than not, it is those that call themselves Imperials hiding in these dark places. Holding only love for credits, the Hutts are ever reliable; ever reliable as long as the account stayed open. However, the slugs have proven useful and the Empire Reborn continues to teeter on the brink of annihilation.
  
   "Be careful out there. Who knows if our arrival leaked to those Rebel scum. Most anyone would love a chance to wipe out Imperials- just another statistic here."  Tarkin warns all of you at once, not even turning to face you, as his stare is preoccupied with the sprawling metropolis that hung open below you like something diseased.
  
  Moments later the ship lands with a loud metallic thud and the outer door opens. Commander Tarkin wastes no time in exiting and greeting the happy- and well-paid- welcoming committee, giving you only a simple wave to move along. The smell of desperation is thick in the air, that pungent odor of a planet ridden with crime.
  
    "Welcome to Nar Shadda, exalted guests."   A particularly pudgy Hutt speaks to the group in Huttese. The especially savvy among you can tell this is quite the face he's put on, and most of you recognize him as Vogga the Hutt; a low-level Crime Boss; a small fish in a big pond who fancies himself more.
  
  And with your help, he might just be more.
  
  The scene quickly becomes a dingy top-floor private room in some dismal little dive just off Slimeo and Nowhere. From the balcony position, you can see the entire bar below you; each patron busy with who knows what. Each one shifty and suspicious in his, her, or it's own way. Vogga the Hutt and a translator explain the situation over to you, but you know the focus of your attention should be the beings below you.
  
    "You will find what hole that little slime-rat Jaden Korr has hidden!"   Vogga the Hutt exclaims, his anger out-pacing his girth. The translator repeats it in monotone moments later. But the faces are what's important.
  
  That shifty looking, even in a room full of them, Weequay. Those five Rodian slavers. A hardened Twi'Lek bounty hunter just trying to get a drink. Two other Rodians and a Trandoshan enjoying a table by themselves. That small-time swoop gang trying to look tough. The local cantina band playing for a pay-check. Heck, you can even smell a Wookiee. And all through-out there were humans; mingling, serving, honoring. Traitors.
  
  One of them was guilty of crimes against the Empire.
conversations: Phobia:
conversations: human
conversations:  Zairon Cetar 
  
  The Reborn Zairon sat in silence as the hutt spoke in his own inferior language.  It was disgusting seeing such a filthy and worthless creature.  In an attempt to not watch the filthy fat lard speak, Zairon had turned away and looked down at the bar.  He doubted it, but perhaps he would be lucky and would see Jaden.
  
  As the filth continued ranting, Zairon grew tired of his voice.  A part of him wanted to tear the knowledge of huttese out of the hutt's brain with his particular ability to use the force in order to save time.  Between the hutt's rambling and the translator's translating time more time was being spent on this conversation than would have had the lard been capable of speaking in a superior language.
  
  The Hutt's attitude only made a worse.  A part of Zairon wanted to use his abilities to create an illusion to scare, the hutt, but he decided not too.  Instead he scanned the area below him, using his force assisted vision (Miraluka and what not) to search the area for anyone sticking out with a powerful force presence.   If Jaden had the nerve and stupidity to show up, the dark side power on him should be more than enough to give him away.
  
   
   Spoiler 
  
  Not sure if that would count as use the force or perception.  I'll roll both and you can pick which is more fitting.  Hell, maybe both.  Perception to see anyone out the ordinary (mainly Jaden, doubt he is here, but my guy would look just to be sure), use the force to sense any dark side traces?
  
  Perception  (1d20+7)[ 9 ] 
  Use the force:  (1d20+19)[ 20 ] 
  
  Wow...I knew I was blind, but still...
   
conversations: Major:
conversations: human
conversations:  Rade Tavers 
  
  A nondescript stormtrooper, unremarkable at first glace, looked down at the crowd while paying careful attention to the translated words of the Hutt. There was no lost love for the slimy creature in Rade's mind, but the Hutt might have valuable intelligence on the target, so for now Rade was putting his disgust aside.
  
  Rade's right hand twitched slightly as he surveyed the bar's patrons. It would be so easy to just open fire, finding their target by killing all the other patrons. It's not like the galaxy would miss a few more lawless aliens.
  
  Rade's hand did not move for his blaster, however. The small twitch was the only sign of his thoughts, and that was hardly even noticeable. He was far too well trained and disciplined to let a fleeting thought like that hold much sway over him, and it was more likely the target would just go to ground in a situation like that. For now he just surveyed the crowd with the others, hoping to spot the target so they could be done with this Hutt.
  
   
   Spoiler 
  Perception, making use of helmet's low-light and +2 perception assuming there's nothing wrong with me being in my full stormy armor atm.
   (1d20+13)[ 20 ] 
   
conversations: Binks:
conversations: human
conversations:  Daphne Plix 
  
  Strangely, Daphne didn't look much out of place at all here on Nar Shaddaa.  She was far from the strangest or most exotic thing that these jaded spacers and residents of the Smuggler's Moon had seen.  She did still get the turned heads and the hanging-on glances though, but nothing like other places she had been.
  
  She would have looked even less out of place had she not been in the company she was with.  This was work, and with a pair of stormtroopers and a pair of Imperial officers around, she wasn't exactly in company that would remain unnoticed.  They had made a statement being visible like this.  Unfortunately that statement was nowhere near as strong as it would have been a few years ago.  Things had changed quickly.  Daphne hadn't been around when the mere glance of a white-armored figure sent vermin of all sorts scurrying into holes.  Now?  They were looked upon with disdain at least, outright hostility was far more common.  Still, there had been no trouble...  yet.
  
  Daphne stayed by the side of Commander Tarkin through the conversation.  She was watching the Hutt and his people, seeing if they meant what they said, or if there was any trickery in their words.  Well, there was sure to be trickery, but of what sort?  Would it harm her team?  This intel they were getting was shaky at best, but it was the sort that the Hutts regularly dealt in.  Perhaps it would be good enough.
  
  Vogga's attitude though, that was definitely something that they would need to correct.  It came with the territory; he was at home, in his base of power, and the Empire was seen as weak.  There wasn't much they could do about it now, since they needed him to be cooperative and helpful.  Still, as soon as they were done, Daphne would be quite happy never seeing him again.  Or any other Hutt for that matter.  He was trying to belittle them, to show them that he was in control, and make them feel inferior.  He was used to playing in a far smaller pond.  His grandstanding had maybe worked with the regular denizens of the Smuggler's Moon, but the Empire played in a different league.  Daphne certainly wasn't impressed, and she didn't think any of the others were either.  Her companions would have been in the thick of far worse, and she doubted the stormtroopers even cared.  No, let him talk.  Daphne could wait him out, and when the stalling had finished and they had gotten what they came here for, she would walk away and hopefully never see this blight upon the galaxy again.
conversations: Hawkwings:
conversations: human
conversations:  Zan Starkiller 
  On the shuttle flight over, Zan delved into the fractured patchwork of computer systems on Nar Shaddaa. He spent most of his time scanning official Imperial HoloNet news and local NewsNets for anything that could give a clue to the location or activities of Katarn, Skywalker or Korr. On the one hand, it seemed somewhat futile looking for news of three individuals on a planet of eighty-five billion: on the other, Jedi of all sorts are extraordinary people who do extraordinary things- and attract extraordinary amounts of attention. You never know.
  
  Once planetside, he endured Vogga's impertinence phlegmatically, without showing much upset or even change of expression. He considered stowing his helmet away and concealing the outline of his heavy armor, mindful of Tarkin's admonition not to stick out: but he knew that subtlety was not his forte, and so stayed helmeted. In any case, even with the armor, the hemet, the rifle and other gear still present, it was nothing too extraordinary in this motley crowd of criminals, bounty hunters and scum.
  
  He spoke evenly, revealing no impatience or irritation with the Hutt's attempt to order them around.
  
   "Maybe we will, Vogga. Specifics would help. How did you get the intel that someone who knows what we need is here just this instant? Do you have any detail about who to look for? Do we have any guarantee that they'll stay here for more than a few seconds, or do we need to lock down the building?" 
conversations: Toptomcat:
conversations: human
conversations:  Gallen Par 
  
  Gallen understood every word coming out of the disgusting slugs mouth.  Of course he did, he'd studied their dialect and contribution to history years before.  Say what you will about the Hutts, but you couldn't deny their influence.  Yet he stood, pretending to listen with rapt attention to the translator.  Always appear less than you are to your enemies, and more than you are to your subordinates.  An old lesson, he'd taken to heart.  And if there is anything he had learned from studying the history of the Hutts, was that every one of them was a potential enemy.
  
  As they reached the top floor of the bar the Hutt still spoke on, even though it was obvious that it's continued presence would merely be a distraction.  It didn't take much thought to see the error in their plans already, probably this slug's work.  Here they were standing above the bar as an obvious looming shadow and they were supposed to find someone?  If the target had half a block of sense he'd have left the place by now.
  
  Still, here's hoping that the target did not have half a block of sense.  He looked at his companions, and down at himself.  Obvious imperials, they stood out like a Zeltron at an abstinence rally.  Searching would not be easy, except possibly through brute force questioning.  That tended to be messy however.
conversations: Dienekes:
conversations: human
conversations:  Antinnia Pascale 
  
  Nar Shadda.  The Smuggler's Moon, the Vertical City, Little Coruscant.  You'd be hard pressed to find a more wretched hive of scum and villainy.  They say that the undercity of Imperial Center is like this; but here there's no overcity to keep the grime and alien filth decently hidden. Here all the grubs and worms that normally lurk underneath society's rotting logs parade themselves openly in the daylight, and cavort beneath the stars...
  
  Antinnia tried, and failed, to keep a disdainful expression off her face.  She might have tried harder if she thought it mattered.  Idiot slug.  This was one of the worst leads she'd seen in a long time; "somebody here is somehow connected to our target?"  She'd gotten better tip-offs from a deaf-mute glitterstim junkie.  Not that it was unworthy of following—in a case like this, you followed up on every possible lead—but bringing in all six of them?  Either Vogga truly was a fool—and grudgingly, she admitted he probably wasn't  that  witless, if only because some other Hutt would have killed him and taken over by now if he were—or he was playing dominance games.  Trying to bully them into forgetting that he'd  failed , the little worm.
  
   "I'll want to speak with your informants myself if we don't find him tonight, Vogga,"  she said after Zan finished asking the relevant questions. (Sensible, that one.  She'd make sure to remember it.)  "I'm sure they're good enough in their way, but they're not Imperial-trained."  She smiled thinly, not bothering to hide her condescension. The Hutt needed to be put in his place.
conversations: The_Snark:
conversations: human
conversations:  Zan Starkiller 
  
  The Hutt stared off into the distance for a moment, seemingly oblivious to Zan's questions and Antinnia's barbs. Zan waved a hand in front of Vogga's face, then snapped his fingers sharply.
  
   "Vogga. Focus. Our patience is not unlimited." 
conversations: Toptomcat: