Sitting on the pleasure planet Zeltros, two old friends were comisserating over neon-green drinks in a tropical theme poolside bar. Ne'vets Aharo, exotic animal broker, and Abel Norrum, big game hunter, were trusted colleagues, but even they could not fully believe the success of their most recent mission. Drenched in credits, and Ne'vets in the possession of a "new" ship, it was time to tell stories, with Abel prodding particular tales.
"Your old Mon Cala pilot was the best, Ne'vets. Whatever happened to him?"
"He's the one that lost our ship! I had a nice, gently-used YZ-725 for our operations. We were en route to Bespin to deliver an animal when a Neebray penetrated the shields, smashed through the cockpit, killing the Mon Cala and that idiot Rodian co-pilot, Yin-Yan. Problem was, the alarms were deactivated and the cockpit, self-sealed, so it was two days before we realized there was a problem..."
"By the time Evus and I figured out the overrides, the ship was completely cooked. We barely got it to Dolla, and the scrap was barely enough to lease a ship... with heavy interest."
Ne'vets looked off to his pilot, Tarrie Prolek, playfully teaching some young co-eds the finer points of Water Volleyball, "I hired the cheapest pilot I could... even came with a Wookie at no extra cost. Seemed eager and naïve, a great combination."
"Whatcha get to fly?"
"A Lone Scout B-Class."
"Kriff me! That's a one man vessel, with a closet for supplies! Sounds tight."
"Oh, it was...."
The Wookie, Frokazza, was not happy. While he was delighted his friend, Tarrie, had gotten them a long term contract working with some animal broker, he was disappointed in the cramped condition of the O-Bah-Die and even more distressed that he was working on Life Day. He would never argue with a pile of credits for some simple astrogation calculations and looking intimidating, but these humans never understood the cultural and spiritual significance of the holiday.
The mission was a cake walk, some mining baron on Bespin, a retired General Ob, had requested the broker, Ne'vets Aharo, acquire and deliver a small creature, a Polygemius Rex, a rodent without legs, for what sounded like insane credits. Aharo had acquired the creature, and had been struck by disaster with the loss of not only his previous ship, but his trusted pilot. Hopefully Frokazza and Tarrie would be worthy long-term replacements.
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| Polygemius Rex |
All they needed to do is make contact with General Ob and receive payment upon delivery. As luck would have it, Ne'vets had acquired a pregnant Polygemius, and two offspring resided in the case with the original. Tarrie pondered another adventure to further liquidate the assests, hoperfully in a bigger ship.
Ne'vets number two, the Twi'lek Evus, just wanted the new guys to shut up. The old ships remote cockpit seemed like a distant dream compared to these two who just... wouldn't... shut... up.
Still, the trip from Dolla to Bespin had been problem-free and Ne'vets was sipping Savareen Brandy without a care in the world.
Ne'vets hand nothing to worry about because everything had already gone horribly wrong. Flying around in an oversized shuttlecraft with a green crew in the cockpit and three volatile creatures in a tiny force field crate, a crate that dug into the minimal profit margins of the transaction, did not make the man happy. Hopefully, things on Bespin would go smoothly, and he could pay back the service fees on the Oh-Ba-Die's lease and pay for the equipment he ignored to buy a good bottle of brandy.
Entering Bespin space, Ne'vets went into the cockpit to check on his crew....
"This is Bespin Planetary Control, identify yourself and your purpose on planet."
The Wookie, jumped on the coms, and with a nervous stutter, " We're transporting illlegal....*static static static*"
Ne'vets fidgeted with every control that wouldn't send the ship into a death spiral, "Everything's fine, we're transporting ordered equipment to General Ob, Mining Sector C-19."
"Send credentials, once approved, proceed to 12.20.07-0"
The approach to mining facility C-19 nearly sent the O-Bah-Die three quarters around the planet. They found the city above the clouds to be a mere framework, with only a few levels looking suitable for habitation.
The comm awoke with a droid voice. "This is CL-19 control, re-submit credentials and proceed to 12.20.07-0."
Frokazza re-entered the coordinates and became concerned. They were not for the landing pads on the city, rather they were going to send them hundreds of kilometers beneath the clouds!
The auto-pilot lurched into the clouds, like a spiral staircase following the stalk of the city, the ship flew down hundreds of kilometers.
"The droid controller gave further instruction, "O-Bah-Die, you are clear to land on landing pad #2. Will you require teamsters?"
Ne'vets jumped on the coms again, "Negative."
"A droid cart will be awaiting you upon landing..."
The crew, rare creature in a force field container in hand, was met by some peculiar teamster droids. Each one of the five appeared to be an assassin droids, or at least security droids, with a giant cannon replacing their left arm. The barrel of the cannon looked to be 200mm!
Ne'vets casually handed the container to Frokazza. "Don't lose this."
Tarrie whispered into the ear on the other side of the Wookie, "If we weren't under a long-term contract with these guys, we would be so out of here!"
The "security" droids escorted them to customs, where another droid, BX-7, processed minimal information and allowed them to proceed.
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| BX-7 |
"General Ob is currently unavailable. Please allow us to provide refreshment for the short time until he is able to complete your transaction."
A droid shuttle met them on the opposite side of customs. It was a peculiar device, a droid torso operating the craft, with no repulsorlifts, rather a pair of flat belts acting as slippery tracks.
Tarrie was the most nervous of the crew. "We shouldn't be able to breathe down here. The breathable air is only up in the city. I've got a bad feeling about this."
The shuttle dropped them off in front of a large dining room, with a 10 meter-long table and numerous comfy chairs along the walls.
Within minutes, BX-7 arrived at the room, "Greetings again, I am Bx-7, liaison for General Ob." It extended a hand to Frokazza. "Mister Aharo, we are glad to make your acquaintance."
Ne'vets seemed concerned, as the same droid had successfully completed paperwork and introductions minutes before.
"I too understand the umbrage to being forced to work on Wookie Life Day. Would you like a cake?"
Frokazza was taken aback by this odd display of droid generosity and agreed to a cake.
"Our chef droids can produce a Life Day Cake immediately. We hope that you can enjoy it."
BX-7 left and was quickly replaced with a retro-fitted Trade Federation battle droid.
"I am P90-X, servitor droid. I will be happy to fulfill all the requests for you fatsos until General Ob is available. Happy Wookie Life Day."
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| P90-X |
Finally the cake arrived, to much noise and clatter. Rather than using a droid to push a repulsor-cart, the droid torso was again attached to cart, and rather than repulsor technology, the cart used five-sided wheels that were not properly alignment. The cake was a mess, but an appreciative Frokazza, scooped up some with his hands, as the cart droid played the Wookie Life Day song.
Then everything exploded.
Upon completion of the song, the cart-droid released an insane amount of glitter into the room. The force of this eruption sent cake flying everywhere.
"Happy Wookie Life Day,' the cart-droid extolled, glitter still leaking out various holes.
Within moments, P90-X was across the rooms, arms in one corner, legs in another, all thanks to a glitter covered, angry Wookie. A flurry of cleaning bots entered the room to clean up the cake and glitter.
Evus tried to clean off the large table with a some cleaning supplies in the room, only to realize he was in possession of a fourth Polygemius!
"Something broke containment!"
Ne'vets was aghast, "We have a situation. We need to make this delivery quickly..."
"But first more cake.... and no glitter," BX-7 barged in with a replacement cake.
"The Wookie can take advantage of our beautician droids to remove the unfortunate glitter from his fur, Happy Life Day!"
Frokazza ate his cake in quiet, and Ne'vets continually demanded to at least go to the area where General Ob was.
Finally, a new droid appeared, with oversized legs and no arms.
"Hello, humans in the employee of General Ob, I am the Gazelle. I am to escort you to him. However, he is allergic to glitter. We can take the celebratory Wookie to cleaen the glitter from his fur."
Reaching a cramped salon, Frokazza was met by two astromech droids, armed with spinning straight razors and mini-flamethrowers.
The Gazelle laughed "Go to the back portion of the refresher, should be big enough."
The set-up of the refresher was in a strange language, and Frokazza started pressing buttons indiscriminately. With 22 separate buttons with some variation of a drop of water, something was bound to work.
As the doors sealed, Evus kept staring at the shower, realizing somehow he was familiar with it.
The faint Wookie cries coming from inside confirmed his worst fears: the refresher was set-up for a Mon Calamari bathtub.
Luckily, Wookies can hold their breath for a long time.
Outside the refreshers, the others could see an "Additional Heat Requested" alert pop up on a screen. The droids applied their mini-flamers to a heating element.
Soon the water stopped processing, and the passed out Wookie lay on the ground, with nary a speck of glitter anywhere.
Tarrie quickly jumped in to revive his friend, "Boss, boss, I'm a medic, I can revive him. "
The Gazelle could only ponder, "Perhaps he is too relaxed... Our baths have that effect on people."
Other droids handed Tarrie a cocktail to give to Frokazza, but the pilot quickly surmised that it may kill his furry friend. In response, he simply grabbed a glass of water and splashed it in the Wookie's face.
More Polygemius could be found in the salon. The issue might not have been coming from the containment case, but no one had enough time to investigate. It was time for the Gazelle to deliver them to General Ob.
Another transport appeared, another droid torso welded onto a transport frame. Except the transports locomotion were four bright red, four robotic legs. with a giant set of horns installed on the front torso.
Everyone hopped into the seating area, but the droid took a sudden disliking to Tarrie, charging the pilot. Tarrie simply sidestepped a number of charges by the transport, and finally entered the seating area as the droid appeared to tire somehow.
The transport dropped the crew off at a set of double blast doors. Two more of the assassin/security droids with the ridiculously oversized cannons guarded the doors.
"State your business"
"Delivering a package to General Ob"
"Go inside, payment will be waiting."
Within seconds of going through the doors, the blast doors shut behind them, and everyone knew they were in some form growing danger.
"The atmosphere in here is compromised. You can see the gases creeping in from every corner!"
After passing a few more security droids, the crew spied living humans for the first time on this mission. Humans and Ugnaughts, many unconscious, lay shackled against the walls.
Tarrie did a quick triage and found most hungry and deprived of oxygen.
Reviving an Ugnaught named Cade, the small being went on a rant. General Ob was a moron, the true despotic ruler of that mining complex was a droid calling itself the Scrapmaster. Ugnaughts intentionally break down droids and rebuild them better than ever to avoid future issues. The Scrapmaster was making wild, illogical repairs, and the memory banks of the droids were becoming corrupt. And if the droids weren't going to kill them, the leaking Tibanna gas would do the job earlier.
"We need to escape this Land of Misfit Droids...."
Evus found General Ob, an old man in an ill-fitting uinform and random ribbons and medals. Tarrie revived him. After minutes of coughing up a yellow-green-black phlegm, Ob admitted to his misdeeds.
"I'm not in command anymore. Haven't been for quite some time... and all of you are going to die because of it.'
"Who ordered the creature?"
"There is a droid that has my face upstairs. That's who the droids are looking for. It was a personal luxury droid, I gave it everything, treated her like a real person. But then, she started copying my mannerisms, even setting up a "General Ob" disguise. Then she fixed all the droids and captured living beings and shoved them down there. If I was thinking clearly, I would have deactivated her.
"I've always wanted that creature, and somehow the Scrapmaster has pulled the knowledge from my mind and made it happen."
Ne'vets quickly realized that they might be prisoners, they were still considered guests. He demanded the security droids provide some basic necessities while the transaction was being completed, most notably the five-sided wheel delivery droid, a few oxygen tanks, and a slugthrower. All requests were honored.
Ob inquired, "How did you get here."
"We flew in, droids were cooperative until they led us to here."
"If you flew in, that means the Scrapmaster is in the Communications Room. The comm beacons must be working, but she's there. Oh how I wish I had been a moisture farmer.
Frokazza pointed out air ducts running parallel with the hallways. Evus and a small group of Ugnaughts volunteered to explore them. Evus managed to elude the security droids, without issue, but at some point the screams of the traveling Ugnaughts met cold solid non-blaster fire.
Meanwhile, Ne'vets used Tarrie skills to rewire the programming of the the cleaning droids.
Evus reached the landing pad with the O-Bah-Die, guarded by three more assassin droids. Evus quickly moved out of Comms Room.
Frokazza commandeered some oxygen for the gasping civilians. Greatful people tried to justify the question of "Why do Wookies get one Life Day when the Rodians get whole month?"
Ne'vets and Tarrie sent out the reprogrammed droid. They assembled the prisoners and set the droids upon the security droids.
The attack is quickly thwarted. Security droids picked them up and put them on a high shelf along the hallway.
While Ne'vets dashed out the door, he told the others to "Pick their moment."
With incredible agility (and a roll of 22), Ne'vets, still carrying the Polygemius containter, jumped off a wall and avoided security droids and yet tossed a cleaning droid down another hall to distract their foe.
Frokazza and Tarrie picked their moment, and the prisoners stumbled towards their main doors of the facility.
Evus reached the comms room. There in the center of the room stoods a very droid-like recreation assistant of General Ob. His first "love tap," ripped off the shoulder of the droid, and a we'll keep to keep the bands on until they settle.
"Who dare defile, General Ob, the Scrapmaster?"
"Your days of scrapping are over! " The second shot ripped through the CPU.
"I just wanted to rebuild... my friends." With that, the Scrapmaster's systems went dark.
Evus quickly set up a planetary distress call. This is how we get pirates....
Ne'vets, followed by Frokazza and Tarrie are led to the landing pad, alerting the security bots. The regular droids on the deck began beating others. It could be two seconds from surrendering, until you view three Ugnaughts, one covered head to toe in red dye, the other two covered entirely in blue.
Yelling in Ugnaught, "The cannons aren't guns!!!!!
The security droids move forward. Ne'vets hit squarely by the cannon, a paint cannon. Covered in red. Another prisoner hit with a blast of blue paint.
Ne'vets ran up to a droid on the landing pad and bear hugged it! Other droids opened fire on Ne'vets. There were multiple droids firing again, but lucky shots were explosions of red or blue paint.
Evus and Frokazza led the charge to the O-Bah-Die pushing droids off the landing pad and into miles of falling one must do before they die.
Tarrie grabbed Ob and the container and ran to the ship. "Saving people is secondary to the contract, I can complete the transaction in the stead of Ne'vets Aharo."
Tarrie pushed Ob up the ramp to the ship, then proceeded to raise the ramp halfway and powers the engines.
Forkazza went wild, ripping droids apart, throwing them off the edge of the pad. Some even explode in fireworks and glitter. Cleaning droids coming out to clean up the mess....
The next day, they got paid by General Ob. Ugnaughts returned to proper maintenance and a promise to rebuild everything. Ob got his lone creature, while the others are sold as delicacies to clients on Cloud City.
Staring at the painted remains of the "O-Bah-Die" Tarrie could only be a realist.
"We're not getting our security deposit on the ship...."
After another day they were forced to flee Cloud City, due to an infestation of Polygemius Rex. They jettisoned what little cargo they were going to carry, to avoid further infestation.
On their trip home, the suffered system issues and a lack of creatures to match client wants. Tarrie immediately offered a suggestion to remedy both situations, "I know someone who can handle this, it's a not-civilized world. I'm certain we can find another creature on your want list, Mister Aharo. We can head to Yavin IV. My sister, Latorna is on one of those moons. She can help. "
Next: Back to the present day, with #25 - "Tournament"
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