Star Wars: Hopefuls

Notes from 5/28/18 Session
  • Demurgo was on lookout outside the Clan Otluk encampment

    • Forgot to turn on communicator
  • Ham-let puns. They were great, trust me.
  • "6 is auspicious number" – Quar'mot
  • Steve Rogers is dead. Poor Steve Rogers.
  • Roger Roger Roger is dead. Poor Roger Roger Roger.
  • The storm has begun!

    • Big oily drops
  • Arrianta does parkour. But evil.
  • The Auspicious 6 run into a chasm with no bridge.

    • Barook lassos some fungi across the chasm to form a rope bridge.
    • A few of them cross, then Arrianta lands on the other side with them.
    • The rope snaps! Sending one of the attendees plummeting. Arrinata uses to force catch him and transport the remaining members across the chasm. Ouar'mot is very impressed.
    • We come across a rope bridge. Arrianta and the Gommureans make it accross, then 6 soldiers from clan Pruk ambush use for battle day!

      • Pruk Chief is Chief Soo-wee
    • The Auspicious 6 and company handily defeat the Pruk clan and aid in an honorable battle day. Chief Soo-Wee survives along with 4 other soldiers.

      • Awesome moments:

        • Arrianta leaps to a mushroom, cuts a head off, then jumps back and does a back flip kick to knock the severed head into the other group.
        • Barook shoots the severed head, blood splatters and blinds a group, causing them to stagger back into a giant mushroom, which closes like an umbrella to trap them.
        • Barook and group grab the rope still attached to the Gommurans as they tumble off the slippery rope bridge. Swing them back onto the shore.
  • The ramp is stuck in the mud

    • Water is rising on the field, could be a problem.
    • Found another plane for the water to run off to, but now the ground is slowly washing away.
    • R5 tries to unstick the ship…. 3 times… unsuccessfully.
  • The full group finally makes it to the clearing with the VAPR Moth. The Chiefs cut down a giant mushroom to use as a boat and row towards the ship.
  • Group is on the ship and congratulate each other, only to hear a vicious growl. CREDITS ROLL!
Notes from 5/6/18 Session
  • Clan Otluk Scene (Bran and Barook)

    • Quar'mot is chief
    • "Fighting good, waiting bad."
    • 6400 credits for 50 warriors are agreed upon
    • Brothers for life!
  • Three hostiles and a storm… And a thing in the cargo hold?! (Arrianta, Vap, Demurgo, and R5)

    • The hyper…uh…dongle? is broken.
    • The bacon is gone!

      • The bacon grease lube is not…. ew
      • Snap Snap "Activate Sex Droids" Hip Thrust
    • R5 shot the ships down!
    • Roger is dead. Poor Roger.
    • Roger Roger is also dead. Poor Roger Roger.
    • Arrianta landed the ship. Then it got struck by lightening. Poor Arrianta.
The Piggly Wiggly

Holy non holy, bacon is never holy. Bacon is a descriptive word for fatty meat. At some time before whatever turned them into some level of sentient being, they were hunted as a delicacy. I'm making that up, but it's assumption I'm willing to tell others confidently.

So, we've got some baconeers at a discount, we're being shot at by the other clan. I really just want to take long rest in my new room. It's going to be so awesome. I was thinking of swinging by some local planet and swooning someone special. 

All I need to do now is get through this.

And now I have it
My luxury Space

Wow, a shopping trip with meaning. This ship is what's happening. It doesn't have a hanger, so no luxury King Bee as hoped, but daaaaaaaaaaaaaaamn, I have one fantastic room. It has the crushed velvet interior no Bothan could dream of. This is just as good as the crushed velvet cruiser I was dreaming of. NO ONE could ruin my dream at this point.

Let me take you on a tour:
The bed: sinks in and out of the floor depending on what's said.
Business Desk: Always up, aimed at the bed
Bacon Timed Fragrance: at exactly 8 hours after i set my sleep time, bacon is cooked, an hour after that, jettisoned through a micro airlock.
Spinning Love Bed: Which is actually a spinning sex bacon grease bed, easily cleaned.

NO one, and I MEAN No one is allowed in my room. I paid for these upgrades myself. No one will guess the password that happens to be a weird space message song i received called "Jenny" by Tommy Tutone, "8675309".



PIGS. MF'n P-I-G's. I'm so F'd.

Betrayal and other such stories
Or How I Learned to Stop Fearing and Embrace Murder Wookiees

The Kriff.


Who would set me up? Everyone on the Anderson is my friend. Right? I know I can trust Plimpton, but maybe some are more loyal to the Empire than we initially thought they were. I need to warn Plimpton, but also, I probably need to distance myself from the Anderson. Permanently.


Now Jabba, don't get me started on Jabba. Would a 'please' or 'thank you' kill you? He avoids manners like he avoids hygiene.  While I appreciate the group getting me out of there, I don't really appreciate that they treated Jabba like this was a legitimate business transaction. Now we owe him? I don't think so. I don't know, maybe I am just sore I couldn't talk him down when we found out the case was empty, but this seedy guy Bran can?


Nope, that is not fair, I don't KNOW he is seedy. Well…


No, no.


I need to give these people the benefit of the doubt. They rescued me, when I apparently can't count on the Anderson crew to even care enough to not set me up to die. 


So it looks like the group I am now calling my companions is going through some rough patches themselves. A force-using murder wookiee? May need to rethink my position on the Force. I wasn't there to see it, but Demurgo described the smell of burning flesh, a little too fondly.


Vap seems mopey. I know his droid was lost. Seems like he was not a great droid, but maybe there is some sentimental value there. 


Oh well. Things seem to have calmed down a bit and we went on a shopping trip. That lifted everyone's spirits. Yes of course we got into trouble but that seems like a given at this point. At least I got to rendezvous with a few of my old flames in the Kataxia system before everything went to hell.


Need to figure out where we are going next… Hopefully Plimpton is staying safe.

I got this

I can't believe all that has happened. One day I'm singing some songs, the next day I'm fishing and solving the problems of the galaxy. Most importantly, I'm profiting. I now have some ownership in the VAPR Moth, which I think we should rename to the VAPR Wasp. A moth? How does that strike fear into the wicked, or non wicked… Or whoever I need to collect from.

It's been months since the destruction of the big robot ship. We've ran into some hutts and done some odd jobs. I've made a few bets, winning more than losing. I've also been negotiating for our poor group of space spelunkers. We're much more well off than we use to be. Soon I'll be buying my luxury space cruiser. It's my dream and it's going to happen.

I'm imagining a silvery shuttle with crushed red velvet interior with a hidden blast cannon to boot!

Sand Everywhere. . .
Where the gang goes to Tatooine!

After a couple of weeks of healing and fine-tuning on the Anderson, Captain Plimpton approached the crew of the VAPR Moth about making a delivery for him. Plimpton felt the need to call in some favors, as well as repay some debts, now that he had officially cut ties with the Empire. The delivery would be to a contact of Plimpton's on Tatooine, and Barduk would be the one to meet the contact and deliver the item. The crew only needed to provide Barduk transportation to and from Tatooine, and the whole journey would practically take no time at all; Bran did, however, manage to haggle for higher fees due to the time it was going to take the crew to travel there and back again through hyperspace. As Bran always says, time is our most precious comm— wait, he always says credits are our most precious commodity. Same idea.

The crew makes it to Tatooine without a hitch, and Barduk goes off (presumably to some cantina) to meet his contact. It is at this point that everything starts to go awry; Barduk does not return any time that day, and is unavailable to be reached by comm. Later that night, R5 awakens to see Arrianta stride off the ship, steal a speeder from a drunken Dug, and race off into the desert. The rest of the crew begins to rouse when they hear R5's beeps and whistles outside the ship; however, as soon as Demergo, Bran, and Vap amble down the boarding ramp, they see Jawas taking off, with R5 in tow.

As the remaining crew of the VAPR Moth begin to formulate a plan to rescue their stolen tin-can-of-a-friend, a Twi-Lekki messenger arrives at the ship. He tells the crew that Jabba, the great and mighty, is holding Barduk, and if they ever wish to see their friend again, they will come with him to pay their respects at Jabba's palace.

Once the crew gained an audience with Jabba, Bran began to use his silver tongue. It seemed that the item Barduk was supposed to deliver was not in the briefcase he handed over, and since the crew of the VAPR Moth had no idea what it was, Bran was able to negotiate Barduk's temporary release in exchange for a favor. A Jawa by the name of Jek Nkik had sold Jabba faulty droids; Jabba wanted the droids fixed, and wanted Jek Nkik to set up a permanent residence in his dungeons.

Vap set about fixing the droids, and Bran and Demergo set about finding Jek Nkik. After a few days of searching, the pair were lucky enough to come across a caravan of Jawa Sandcrawlers displaying their wares. R5 just so happened to be one of those wares, and when he spotted the two of them, made it very clear that he was not happy in his current state of affairs. After a fairly friendly dialogue (Demergo killed only 1 Jawa, and maimed another), the head of the caravan decided to not only give them R5 for free, but revealed the location of Jek Nkik as well.

Turns out, Jek Nkik was not your typical Jawa. Yes, he scavenged and dealt in droids and parts, but he also had his hand in a lucrative little slave farm. It was a two day trek across the desert for Demergo, Bran, and R5, and they assumed they would have to put up a fight when they got to Jek Nkik's slave compound. As they approached, however, they smelled burning flesh, and saw dozens of people running and screaming from the compound. Alarmed, the threesome started to investigate, but a Jawa ran into them, begging for protection from the monster attacking his "modest and legitimate place of business." After confirming his identity as none other than Jek Nkik, Bran and Demergo agreed to "protect" him. By this point, the screaming had died down, but the smell had only intensified. Upon entering the compound, Bran and Demergo saw a surprising sight— Arrianta, using a laser sword to skewer a Trandoshan, with various other body body parts strewn around the courtyard.

Arrianta wanted to kill Jek Nkik as well, but Bran and Demergo were able to talk him out of it. After freeing all of the slaves whose collars hadn't been blown by the Trandoshan, and Demergo knocking Jek Nkik unconscious when he tried to escape, the much larger party trekked back towards Jabba's palace. Arrianta and R5 eventually diverged, taking the freed slaves back to the VAPR Moth. Bran and Demergo delivered Jek Nkik to Jabba, who then released Barduk— temporarily, mind you— back to the party. Jabba joked about keeping Vap as his personal mechanic, and then sternly reminded the crew to swiftly return with his promised payment.

The crew were finally all reunited on the VAPR Moth, a little more than a week after they thought they would be back on the Anderson. Their mission was incomplete, they had about a dozen extra people on board, and every one of them was both mentally and physically exhausted. Next steps: figure out who betrayed Barduk, ask Arrianta where he got his laser sword, and clean the sand out of the ship. . .

Vap'wogon Reflections and Musings, Get My Life on Track
PH-L7 is gone.

Phil is gone.

I don't get it. I brought him from the brink of destruction and gave him a second chance. I thought things were going well and that he saw how appreciated he was on the team. I guess how could he? I left a hole in him for most of our adventures. I never realized how self absorbed I can get. I know the plague is bad, but how did I let it get so out of hand.

That's it. It's time to make a change. I have skills, skills that my team needs right now. No more can I treat this so cavalierly. I can build things that people will pay for. I will meet Bran's expectations to provide income to our team. I will build the best damn tools for my team that will make us the envy of any underworld. We will be on top.

I need to get my act together. Step 1 is to organize my shop. Step 2 is to finish Demergo's commission. Step 3 is to build a way to properly defend myself.

Time to get to work.

Just a quick trip

For some time I was deeply depressed that Snow was dead, but that I, myself, had not killed him.  But I noticed none of my friends seemed to care.  They were all happy to be alive, and we all focused on trying to rescue PHL7.  None of them even mentioned Snow.  And then I realized… in the whole Galaxy, I was the only one that actually cared who had killed Snow. Certainly, no one on Rodia had any idea.

So, while we were hanging in the Kataxia system for a little while, with not too much else going on,  I thought to make a quick side-trip to smuggle myself back home to Rodia fora day or two.  No sooner had I had the thought than I ran across a smuggler I knew.  I found him in a bar, looking for customers.  After some quick negotiations I arranged passage to Rodia.

Once on Rodia, I looked up a few old friends and let it be known that Snow was dead, and that things were going to change.  I collected on some old debts, and paid off some old debts of my own, starting what I hoped would be a process that would one day enable me to return to Rodia without fear of being arrested and jailed.  By speaking to certain people, I let Snow's allies know that he was dead, and that I might still want to avenge myself on his allies, because I wanted them to spend some time worrying about me hunting them. 

I left Rodia a much happier person than the last time I had left.

R5-Z9 Goes Shopping
Or, How R5-Z9 Saves the Day

078 days 14 hours 33 minutes 22.578 seconds Galactic Standard Time since Initialization

The crew has decided the optimal place for repairs will be Nar Shadaa. Bran explained that the multitudes of criminals and beings of ill-repute are often willing to offer services at prices below market value of other worlds. He also informed us that we are not morally culpable if the vendor we chose used parts were stolen at some point, it’s not like we stole them. Barook argued, but it is inescapable logic that we had not stolen anything in this particular instance, so I chose to devote my prodigious computational ability to other tasks while they continued the discussion.


079 days 10 hours 03 minutes 42.563 seconds Galactic Standard Time since Initialization

After landing on Nar Shadaa, the crew set about their various tasks. Demergo made a call to Napter, and soon he and Arrianta were headed out to collect on a bounty. They didn’t fill us in on the details, but based on how enthusiastic Demergo was, I calculated that it was 97.345% likely it was a “Dead” bounty.

The rest of us were gathered in the hold and Barook told us that he had a mission for us. Bran said that a business opportunity had appeared and excused himself to prepare for the meeting.

Barook told the rest of us of the request Captain Plimpton had made of us. We were to meet with a merchant who was offering materials to resupply the Anderson. The supplies had already been purchased, and all we had to do was pick them up and load them onto the Moth. It was to “be a routine operation, and would go quickly, especially with Vap and my help.”


079 days 10 hours 10 minutes 03.890 seconds Galactic Standard Time since Initialization

Having heard that the operation was to go quickly in either instance, I computed that my help was unnecessary. Bran had mentioned that his opportunity involved a potential employer for a completely legitimate shipping operation. Based on my calculation that such dealings had an 83.451% chance to lead to trouble, I trailed after him to provide my much more likely to be needed assistance.

As he left to discuss the proposition with the client at an upscale restaurant, I noticed that he took a large sum from petty cash. He noticed the inquisitive swivel of my dome and blink of my photoreceptor and explained that business expenses such as a nice meal, drinks, a little gambling, and a posh hotel room for himself were all part of appearing as a legitimate freight business, and it would all be more than covered by the deal that he would undoubtedly broker.


079 days 11 hours 03 minutes 16.012 seconds Galactic Standard Time since Initialization

As we entered the casino, my sensors were bombarded with flashing lights through the smoky haze of a variety of spices. Bith, ugnauts, a whiphid, an enormous pair of herglics, rodians, dugs, falleen, gotals, and other species my database was unable to recognize bleated, growled, buzzed, and shouted over the calls of dealers and the blaring of the gambling machines. Upon taking in the sight, Bran said under his breath, “Deal me in.”

Puzzled by the order, but not one to argue my crewmates, I rolled over to one of the dealer droids. It took forging an order for it to check in for routine maintenance, but I did get it to leave so I could take over its post. Bran was very enthusiastic about me dealing sabaac for some reason, and he told me he’d share the winnings with me. But his grin turned to a scowl before long, and he left the table after losing several consecutive hands.

He had kept taking me aside and telling me to deal him better cards, but each time I had explained to him that the outcome of the game was random he had just winked at me. Organics are so difficult to understand sometimes.

Another bothan with cream-colored fur joined the table after Bran left. He stayed at the table for an hour, sometimes winning, sometimes losing, but enjoying himself the whole time. Bran has repeatedly said that you can always trust a bothan, so before too long I found myself deep in conversation with the fellow.

He told me of the shop he ran several levels down as he fidgeted with his scanner goggles. “I have the best droid parts in the galaxy.” He looked me up and down. “You look like you could use an upgrade or two yourself. Stop by later if you have a chance.”

He reached into his frayed jumpsuit pocket and handed me a holocard. As I took it in my manipulator arm, his words replayed along my neural pathways, “best droid parts in the galaxy.” I caught my reflection in the chrome plating of a passing server droid. The bothan was right; I did have a few upgrades in mind. And didn’t Bran always say to never settle for less than the best?


079 days 16 hours 24 minutes 37.954 seconds Galactic Standard Time since Initialization

It seemed odd what my new bothan acquaintance had asked me to do in exchange for the parts. He wanted me to download a file from another shop and return to help him decrypt it.

I told him that that sounded an awful lot like illegal espionage, but he assured me that the owner of the shop was his friend and had offered him the file, it was just the owner’s day off, and he hated to be a bother when his friend was taking in some much-needed rest and relaxation.

It sounded far fetched, but Bran had said to always trust a bothan.

I rolled into the shop, a less-than-reputable establishment that seemed more likely to house a fugitive Demergo was chasing than the data I was after. Machine and computer parts were stacked haphazardly on row upon row of dusty shelves in no discernable system. The devoronian clerk was too busy making lusty promises to his paramour on the comm to even notice my presence, so I rolled back to the door marked “Employees Only”.

The backroom was, if possible, worse. It was a maze of abandoned parts, pieces, and wiring, a labor droid chassis here, a Clone Wars era tactical droid head there. Vap would have been right at home.

Avoiding questions from the disheveled dug manning the computer was also easy. He was fast asleep. His hands and feet dangled down to the floor, while his face rested on the desk. A glistening strand of drool connected his mouth to the keyboard.

I rolled up to the computer tower and jacked in. I was momentarily shocked to find that the computer was so… functional. The employees here were as good at programming and building computers as they were bad at cleanliness and basic hygiene.

Fortunately for me, the advanced security protocols didn’t matter as the dug had logged into the system before falling asleep. Within moments I had the data disc in my manipulator arm and was on my way.


079 days 18 hours 03 minutes 02.186 seconds Galactic Standard Time since Initialization

Back at the bothan’s shop, a much cleaner and tidier (though somehow no less seedy) affair, I was tasked with cracking the encryption on the files. I asked why he didn’t have the passwords when he was given permission to access the files and was told that he did have the passwords, he’d just lost them was all. And the original owner was probably napping and was not to be disturbed. And how about I just did what I had agreed to do?

Decryption didn’t take long at all, especially since I didn’t bother to scan for viruses or other malware before downloading the files onto the bothan’s computer. I'm sure he could deal with it if it came up.

And so it was that I found myself happily dragging a hovercart full of parts back to the VAPR Moth. More paint to finish the project I had begun several standard months ago, some tools to replace the cheaper ones I had been working with, and the components necessary to make the schematics I had designed into a reality. That would be quite fun.


080 days 13 hours 39 minutes 57.080 seconds Galactic Standard Time since Initialization

Upon returning to the Moth I discovered that Bran’s dealings had gone off without a hitch. Barook’s undertaking, on the other hand, had turned out to be a disaster and they repeatedly told me that my help would have been appreciated. Statistically, such unlikely events are bound to happen now and again.

More importantly, I finished assembling the pieces of my intended upgrade, and I must say that it will undoubtedly come in handy. A bit noisier (and my companions tell me smellier) than originally planned, but I’m not bothered in the slightest.

And there’s enough paint left over to give myself a new look to go with my new capabilities! All in all, it was a very profitable excursion for the crew of the VAPR Moth.


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