Kilian rolled his shoulders, testing the stiff pull of synth-flesh over his wounded thigh. The airlock hissed open, spilling amber light into the freighter’s dim hold. Outside, the landing pad stretched toward Dimmock’s compound—a jagged silhouette against Geonosis’s dusty horizon. The sun was just beginning to bake the durasteel underfoot.
"Keep it simple," Spanner muttered, adjusting the settings on his blaster with a series of decisive clicks. "We walk in like we're delivering a damn present." He jerked his chin toward the mag-cuffed Gand slumped against the bulkhead—VRIXX’TT’s chitinous face twitched in unconscious irritation.
Pron grinned. "Gift-wrapped bounty hunter. Classy."
The Vagrant's ramp groaned as it lowered, exhaling stale ship air into Geonosis's dry heat. Ahead, a Geonosian soldier stood sentinel at the gantry's edge, his elongated head twitching at their approach. Compound eyes caught the sunlight in fractured glints. His wings buzzed once—a sound like crumpling flimsiplast.
"You bring tribute," the Geonosian rasped, mandibles clicking around the words. His rifle barrel tracked them lazily, but his stance lacked tension. Business as usual on this rock. Kilian tightened his grip on VRIXX’TT's mag-cuffs, hauling the semi-conscious Gand forward with a grunt.
The guard leads the crew into a long, wide passageway lined with a hundred Geonosian soldiers standing in stiff unflinching attention. He passes through an alcove and presents himself before a regal Geonosian upon a throne. To the crew, Duke Dimmock looked no different than Duke Piddock. His carapace is perhaps a little more worn and pitted, his golden bangles are perhaps a little more numerous. He looks the team up and down with a supercilious expression before he speaks. “I have little desire to undermine my own business arrangements, but I owe a great deal to our mutual friend Ota. I am therefore willing to hear you out, as you apparently have some kind of complaint against an associate of mine. Be quick about it, though; don’t waste my time.”
Spanner stepped forward, dipping into a stiff bow that looked as unnatural as a protocol droid attempting a backflip. "Your hospitality honors us, your Grace."
Duke Dimmock's antennae twitched, but he said nothing. Spanner swallowed. "Our mutual friend suggested you might... reconsider certain business arrangements."
FL-AR3 stepped forward, servos humming. "Teemo employs Kubaz spies extensively," he said, photoreceptors flickering toward the Duke. "Including Thweek." Kilian straightened, lips curling back from his teeth. "Thweek murdered Sivor."
Dimmock's wings twitched—just once—but Kilian caught it. The name 'Sivor' meant something here. The Duke's golden bangles clinked softly as he shifted on his throne, claws tapping the armrest. "And what proof do you offer me?" His voice was thin, reedy—but there was a new sharpness underneath.
FL-AR3's photoreceptors brightened. His chest panel slid open, revealing a holoprojector that flickered to life. The grainy image of Drommb's bloated face materialized mid-air, lips curled in a sneer.
"I’m amazed Trex managed to get away with that droid technician Sivor without causing the whole thing to fall down on our heads. You never know with kriffing bugs, with their clades and castes and such. Annoy the one on top and you lose every other link in the chain. Start from scratch. I thought this whole deal was going to fall through when we lost the support of Duke Piddock, but Dimmock – he might be the bug for us."
Duke Dimmock seemed to pay even more attention and narrowed his eyes as the second clip played.
"Decapitated! Ha! Well, make sure he never gets to hear about that! I mean, don’t get me wrong, the bugs are kriffing hypocrites on the issue if you ask me. They’re more than happy to see dozens of drones squandered in their own games, but if he knew what happened with Sivor, it’d be all over for the deal. Hah, putting a tech-geek in the ring against you! What a way to go."
The Duke frowned. "Well, you make a good case for yourselves. I can’t say that I am too eager to be linked to these schemes, but I will offer you what assistance I can. You are aware that a cargo ship is due to depart for Mos Shuuta. Wait twenty minutes before you launch your attack. It would be suspicious if I called all my guards away from the cargo ship, so you should expect some resistance, but I will instruct the pilots to assist you once you are aboard.”
The Duke clapped his hands and an aide scurried forward, whispering something unintelligible into his ear.
Kilian flexed his wounded leg, feeling the synth-flesh pull uncomfortably against raw muscle. Twenty minutes. Enough time for one last stim-shot. Enough time for everything to go wrong. He caught FL-AR3’s photoreceptors dimming—calculating odds, no doubt.
The Duke waved a clawed hand dismissively. “Go. Before I reconsider.” His wings twitched again, betraying irritation. Or anticipation. The soldiers grabbed VRIXX’TT’s mag-cuffs, hauling the Gand away with a grunt.
The crew stepped back into Geonosis’s oppressive heat. Dust swirled in eddies around their boots as they walked. Koraz spat on the ground, his Iktochi ridges darkening with annoyance. “Twenty minutes. We should be quick collecting everything that's needed.”
Spanner snorted, tapping his blaster against his thigh. “We’ll be quick—if we don’t run into more of Dimmock’s ‘unavoidable resistance.’” He mimed air quotes with his fingers, rolling his eyes. “Let’s hope his definition of ‘a few guards’ isn’t ‘an entire hive.’”
Into the Den of the Hutt (Episode 17)
Moderator: GM Fang
Re: Into the Den of the Hutt (Episode 17)
Gantry AA7 is piled high with cargo, and a small freighter is docked there. The crew approached from the main gantry.
The Lucky Guess loomed ahead, its rusted hull squatting on gantry AA7 like a sleeping dewback. Koraz’s fingers twitched toward his blaster as movement flickered in the shadows beneath the ship’s landing struts—silhouettes darting between crates, wings buzzing faintly. Another guard was closer on the cargo loading platform. Their heavy blaster pistols gleamed dully in the fading light.
No hesitation. Koraz’s arm snapped up, the stun bolt lashing out with a sharp crack-hiss. The nearest guard spasmed violently, his compound eyes flaring wide before his knees buckled. The smell of ozone and scorched chitin bloomed in the air as his body hit the duracrete with a hollow thud.
The second guard screeched, wings flaring as he rushed forward, rifle swinging wildly. Pron’s blaster roared—three rapid shots stitching across the Geonosian’s thorax. The burst punched through chitin with wet *pops*, ichor spraying in glistening arcs. The guard crumpled mid-screech, twitching once before stilling.
The third hesitated—just a heartbeat, but enough. FL-AR3’s stun bolt took him square between the eyes. Blue energy crackled over his carapace, limbs locking rigid before he toppled face-first onto the duracrete.
Pron was already moving, and he he reached the first fallen guard. The Geonosian’s heavy blaster pistol lay beside his twitching form— its stock etched with hive-glyphs that shimmered faintly in the low light. Pron snatched it up, thumbing the power cell release with practiced ease. The weapon hummed to life in his grip, a deep, resonant vibration that traveled up his forearm like the purr of a satisfied nexu. "Damn," he breathed, running calloused fingers along the barrel's cooling vents. "Feels like holding a piece of the Hive Wars."
Kilian's fingers closed around the second pistol, its grip slick with traces of green ichor. The weight was deceptive—light as a vibroblade but humming with a charge that prickled against his palm. He flicked the safety off with his thumb, and the weapon emitted a high-pitched whine, priming itself with lethal efficiency. Geonosian engineering: no wasted motion, no unnecessary bulk. Just raw, precision death. A grim smile touched his lips. "Teemo's boys won't know what hit them."
Koraz’s prize was already smoking from its first discharge, the barrel glowing faintly where his stun bolt had seared through chitin. He turned it over in his hands, admiring the hive-glyphs etched along the spine—a kill count, perhaps, or some arcane blessing from the Geonosian queens. His horns cast jagged shadows across the weapon’s surface as he tested its balance. "Feels like cheating," he muttered, but the twitch of his fingers against the trigger said he didn’t mind.
With the guards out of the way, the path to the Lucky Guess was wide open. The team climbs aboard as the the cargo ramp is currently down. The are a male and a female in the cockpit doing a preflight check. When asked, they introduce themselves as Orpa and Wex Vio.
Spanner's eyes narrowed as he studied the pilots—Correllian, same sharp cheekbones, same practiced ease with their hands hovering near concealed blasters. "You were at Piddock’s party," he said abruptly, stepping closer.
Orpa’s fingers froze mid-toggle over the navicomputer. Wex didn’t even flinch, just leaned back in his seat with a lazy grin. "And here I thought you were too busy staring at the Duke’s dancers to notice us."
"Who do you work for? Dimmock... or Temmo?" The accusation hung in the air.
"We're just independent free traders, ya know, freight jockeys," Orpa offered.
Wex chimed in, "We were at the party in the hope that if any of the other guests did a deal with Piddock, we could then go on to commission to move the goods." Seeing this explanation seemed to at least mostly satisfy their new guests, he added," You can take seats back there. We're ready to launch."
The Lucky Guess loomed ahead, its rusted hull squatting on gantry AA7 like a sleeping dewback. Koraz’s fingers twitched toward his blaster as movement flickered in the shadows beneath the ship’s landing struts—silhouettes darting between crates, wings buzzing faintly. Another guard was closer on the cargo loading platform. Their heavy blaster pistols gleamed dully in the fading light.
No hesitation. Koraz’s arm snapped up, the stun bolt lashing out with a sharp crack-hiss. The nearest guard spasmed violently, his compound eyes flaring wide before his knees buckled. The smell of ozone and scorched chitin bloomed in the air as his body hit the duracrete with a hollow thud.
The second guard screeched, wings flaring as he rushed forward, rifle swinging wildly. Pron’s blaster roared—three rapid shots stitching across the Geonosian’s thorax. The burst punched through chitin with wet *pops*, ichor spraying in glistening arcs. The guard crumpled mid-screech, twitching once before stilling.
The third hesitated—just a heartbeat, but enough. FL-AR3’s stun bolt took him square between the eyes. Blue energy crackled over his carapace, limbs locking rigid before he toppled face-first onto the duracrete.
Pron was already moving, and he he reached the first fallen guard. The Geonosian’s heavy blaster pistol lay beside his twitching form— its stock etched with hive-glyphs that shimmered faintly in the low light. Pron snatched it up, thumbing the power cell release with practiced ease. The weapon hummed to life in his grip, a deep, resonant vibration that traveled up his forearm like the purr of a satisfied nexu. "Damn," he breathed, running calloused fingers along the barrel's cooling vents. "Feels like holding a piece of the Hive Wars."
Kilian's fingers closed around the second pistol, its grip slick with traces of green ichor. The weight was deceptive—light as a vibroblade but humming with a charge that prickled against his palm. He flicked the safety off with his thumb, and the weapon emitted a high-pitched whine, priming itself with lethal efficiency. Geonosian engineering: no wasted motion, no unnecessary bulk. Just raw, precision death. A grim smile touched his lips. "Teemo's boys won't know what hit them."
Koraz’s prize was already smoking from its first discharge, the barrel glowing faintly where his stun bolt had seared through chitin. He turned it over in his hands, admiring the hive-glyphs etched along the spine—a kill count, perhaps, or some arcane blessing from the Geonosian queens. His horns cast jagged shadows across the weapon’s surface as he tested its balance. "Feels like cheating," he muttered, but the twitch of his fingers against the trigger said he didn’t mind.
With the guards out of the way, the path to the Lucky Guess was wide open. The team climbs aboard as the the cargo ramp is currently down. The are a male and a female in the cockpit doing a preflight check. When asked, they introduce themselves as Orpa and Wex Vio.
Spanner's eyes narrowed as he studied the pilots—Correllian, same sharp cheekbones, same practiced ease with their hands hovering near concealed blasters. "You were at Piddock’s party," he said abruptly, stepping closer.
Orpa’s fingers froze mid-toggle over the navicomputer. Wex didn’t even flinch, just leaned back in his seat with a lazy grin. "And here I thought you were too busy staring at the Duke’s dancers to notice us."
"Who do you work for? Dimmock... or Temmo?" The accusation hung in the air.
"We're just independent free traders, ya know, freight jockeys," Orpa offered.
Wex chimed in, "We were at the party in the hope that if any of the other guests did a deal with Piddock, we could then go on to commission to move the goods." Seeing this explanation seemed to at least mostly satisfy their new guests, he added," You can take seats back there. We're ready to launch."
Re: Into the Den of the Hutt (Episode 17)
The journey from Geonosis to Tatooine takes several hours, so the team has plenty of time to look over the maps, make their plans, and compare notes. Soon enough the Lucky Guess drops out of hyperspace and the orange-yellow ball of Tatooine can be seen hanging in space. As the ship enters the atmosphere, the ship’s comm crackles to life and the Vio siblings can be heard talking with Mos Shuuta’s spaceport control. The conversation seems to proceed as expected, and shortly the Lucky Guess is coming in for a landing at Mos Shuuta in Landing Bay Besh. It’s as if Tatooine was never left.
When Spanner asks why they didn't land at Teemo's palace’s landing pad, the Vio siblings object. “It’s occupied,” says one. “Yeah, pretty banged up Dunelizard there. Looks like something beat it up pretty bad.” The question pops up briefly if this is the same ship that attacked them when they first arrived at Ryloth, however, that ship was damaged and then blasted out of the sky during that dogfight. Teemo likely supplies numerous similar ships to his followers.
Now past the Imperial checks and actually on the ground, the team can move more or less freely through Mos Shuuta, provided care is taken not to be recognized by any of Teemo’s goons. The Vio siblings say they’ll stay with the ship and “prepare the cargo” for transport, so the time is not an issue to explore the town again.
However, the team decides they want to get into Teemo’s palace as soon as possible and not risk any surprises. The cargo on board the Lucky Guess consists of several large crates containing B1 battle droids. The team can simply empty the crates, hide themselves inside, and have the Vio siblings deliver them to the workshop in Teemo’s palace. The droids have been deactivated pending delivery, so they can’t be used to stage an assault.
Kilian is wearing armor taken from Teemo’s bounty hunters during a gunfight on Ryloth. Wearing that should help get by the Gamorrean guards as part of the security detail for the delivery.
Past the fortified gate, there are two narrow rooms positioned one behind the other. They lie behind the armored gate through which Teemo’s visitors enter his palace. Two hulking Gamorrean guards flank the main entrance and a pair of Teemo’s henchmen wait in the foremost area. The walls here are of thick armored material, and they look able to withstand heavy blaster fire. Heavy pillars support the arched roof.
Beyond that is the Reception Room. This area is used to keep guests comfortable and entertained while they wait to be admitted into Teemo’s throne room. The room contains comfortable chairs and tables. Two well-appointed refreshers can be accessed from the room. Currently it is empty as the understanding is that Teemo remains off-world.
Next, they come to the Grand Hallway. This room is somewhat incongruous bearing in mind the utilitarian décor of the rest of the palace. The walls are lined with a plush red velveteen material and several paintings are arranged about the walls. These pictures depict the wonders of the universe, both ancient and contemporary. They are nicely executed artworks in timeless style, though any impression of good taste they might leave you with is undermined by the fact that they are overshadowed by their own large and ostentatious golden frames. A large green holo-sculpture of a rampant Teemo in the company of Twi’lek dancers dominates the center of the area. The floor is the most impressive piece of art in the whole place, an intricate and complex mosaic.
From here the Gamorreans grunt and indicate a passage to the left. It leads to the Workshop and Cargo Receiving room. This workshop area has been set aside for the upkeep and refuel of vehicles belonging to Teemo and his associates. Part of the area is kept clean and uncluttered, and is used to fix up thugs and gladiators who are injured while in Teemo’s service. There is no one working here currently, droid or otherwise.
The room’s workbench contains a toolkit, two glow rods, two emergency repair kits, and two stimpaks. There are some weapons in the workshop, including three blaster carbines and three vibro-axes. A datapad is on a workbench nearby.
Spanner and FL-AR3 work together to hack in to the datapad. On it they find a work log, proving that Teemo is attempting to reverse-engineer battle droids and make his own. While they are doing this Pron keeps watch and notices a couple of Malan Thule’s men go by and head towards what must be the throne room. At the same time Koraz and Kilian look around more and find a number of incomplete Baktoid Combat Droids stored in a compartment by the backwall. There are three droids in various states of repair, and while none of them are operational, it is clear that they form part of an ongoing project. There seem to be two different engineer droids that have entered logs. The older ones are recorded by 41-VEX and the more recent ones by a droid with a GR designation.
FL-AR3 jacks in to the datapad and begins to send the data to Ota through his internal long range comm. Koraz asks the droid if he can piggy-back the signal to a second location and gives him the comm specifics. While this is going on, Kilian explores the other door out of this large area.
Several banks of data terminals hum quietly in the center of this room, with chairs for operators and ports for droids to plug in. The hub is the nerve center of Teemo’s operation, monitoring HoloNet activity and collecting reports from his far-flung agents. A guard steps up and questions the intrusion, but Kilian quickly tries to explain it away as being lost and hoping his armor will make it seem he belongs here. The guard quickly closes the door and everyone breathes a sigh of relief.
With that complete, the team heads for the throne room. Koraz goes in first alone, so as not to draw too much attention with five individuals arriving at once and perhaps providing the illusion they are not all together. The throne room is dominated by the gladiatorial arena, set into the center of the room. Its tall, dome-shaped ceiling and stadium-style seating make the room feel extremely spacious, although there’s not much light. What light there is comes primarily from a large and somewhat intimidating chandelier that hangs directly over Teemo’s throne. Teemo’s Bith house band, “Smooth” Banjaxx Wab and the Scundereds, have taken to the stage. They play dirty Tatooine blues with some virtuoso kloo horn flourishes.
Koraz heads to the cantina area. Bottles and barrels of drink are piled up underneath a sturdy bar here. Teemo’s Industrial Automaton COO Cook Droid mans the bar. Koraz settles in and scans the area for anything that might prove interesting.
Proiah Pron, the Sullustan pilot, comes in next and idles against a wall toward the right. He sets himself up trying to avoid scrutiny about halfway between the entrance and Teemo’s throne. Finally the remaining three enter together. They pass a table where several of Malan Thule’s men sit. Kilian and FL-AR3 approach the table, with Spanner doing his best to hide behind the large droid.
The smuggler tries to strike up a conversation and fishes for information, but Thule’s men are not having it. They are more interested in their drinks than answering Kilian’s questions. Rebuffed the trio take a seat nearby.
Time seems to stand still…
------------------------------------------
Unused XPS (+5 XP)
Spanner - 15
FL-AR3 - 15
Kilian - 15
Pron - 5
Koraz - 10
Group Funds - 1908 credits
3 Geonosian Rifles hidden in cargo hold for Nyn
4 Blaster Pistols
When Spanner asks why they didn't land at Teemo's palace’s landing pad, the Vio siblings object. “It’s occupied,” says one. “Yeah, pretty banged up Dunelizard there. Looks like something beat it up pretty bad.” The question pops up briefly if this is the same ship that attacked them when they first arrived at Ryloth, however, that ship was damaged and then blasted out of the sky during that dogfight. Teemo likely supplies numerous similar ships to his followers.
Now past the Imperial checks and actually on the ground, the team can move more or less freely through Mos Shuuta, provided care is taken not to be recognized by any of Teemo’s goons. The Vio siblings say they’ll stay with the ship and “prepare the cargo” for transport, so the time is not an issue to explore the town again.
However, the team decides they want to get into Teemo’s palace as soon as possible and not risk any surprises. The cargo on board the Lucky Guess consists of several large crates containing B1 battle droids. The team can simply empty the crates, hide themselves inside, and have the Vio siblings deliver them to the workshop in Teemo’s palace. The droids have been deactivated pending delivery, so they can’t be used to stage an assault.
Kilian is wearing armor taken from Teemo’s bounty hunters during a gunfight on Ryloth. Wearing that should help get by the Gamorrean guards as part of the security detail for the delivery.
Past the fortified gate, there are two narrow rooms positioned one behind the other. They lie behind the armored gate through which Teemo’s visitors enter his palace. Two hulking Gamorrean guards flank the main entrance and a pair of Teemo’s henchmen wait in the foremost area. The walls here are of thick armored material, and they look able to withstand heavy blaster fire. Heavy pillars support the arched roof.
Beyond that is the Reception Room. This area is used to keep guests comfortable and entertained while they wait to be admitted into Teemo’s throne room. The room contains comfortable chairs and tables. Two well-appointed refreshers can be accessed from the room. Currently it is empty as the understanding is that Teemo remains off-world.
Next, they come to the Grand Hallway. This room is somewhat incongruous bearing in mind the utilitarian décor of the rest of the palace. The walls are lined with a plush red velveteen material and several paintings are arranged about the walls. These pictures depict the wonders of the universe, both ancient and contemporary. They are nicely executed artworks in timeless style, though any impression of good taste they might leave you with is undermined by the fact that they are overshadowed by their own large and ostentatious golden frames. A large green holo-sculpture of a rampant Teemo in the company of Twi’lek dancers dominates the center of the area. The floor is the most impressive piece of art in the whole place, an intricate and complex mosaic.
From here the Gamorreans grunt and indicate a passage to the left. It leads to the Workshop and Cargo Receiving room. This workshop area has been set aside for the upkeep and refuel of vehicles belonging to Teemo and his associates. Part of the area is kept clean and uncluttered, and is used to fix up thugs and gladiators who are injured while in Teemo’s service. There is no one working here currently, droid or otherwise.
The room’s workbench contains a toolkit, two glow rods, two emergency repair kits, and two stimpaks. There are some weapons in the workshop, including three blaster carbines and three vibro-axes. A datapad is on a workbench nearby.
Spanner and FL-AR3 work together to hack in to the datapad. On it they find a work log, proving that Teemo is attempting to reverse-engineer battle droids and make his own. While they are doing this Pron keeps watch and notices a couple of Malan Thule’s men go by and head towards what must be the throne room. At the same time Koraz and Kilian look around more and find a number of incomplete Baktoid Combat Droids stored in a compartment by the backwall. There are three droids in various states of repair, and while none of them are operational, it is clear that they form part of an ongoing project. There seem to be two different engineer droids that have entered logs. The older ones are recorded by 41-VEX and the more recent ones by a droid with a GR designation.
FL-AR3 jacks in to the datapad and begins to send the data to Ota through his internal long range comm. Koraz asks the droid if he can piggy-back the signal to a second location and gives him the comm specifics. While this is going on, Kilian explores the other door out of this large area.
Several banks of data terminals hum quietly in the center of this room, with chairs for operators and ports for droids to plug in. The hub is the nerve center of Teemo’s operation, monitoring HoloNet activity and collecting reports from his far-flung agents. A guard steps up and questions the intrusion, but Kilian quickly tries to explain it away as being lost and hoping his armor will make it seem he belongs here. The guard quickly closes the door and everyone breathes a sigh of relief.
With that complete, the team heads for the throne room. Koraz goes in first alone, so as not to draw too much attention with five individuals arriving at once and perhaps providing the illusion they are not all together. The throne room is dominated by the gladiatorial arena, set into the center of the room. Its tall, dome-shaped ceiling and stadium-style seating make the room feel extremely spacious, although there’s not much light. What light there is comes primarily from a large and somewhat intimidating chandelier that hangs directly over Teemo’s throne. Teemo’s Bith house band, “Smooth” Banjaxx Wab and the Scundereds, have taken to the stage. They play dirty Tatooine blues with some virtuoso kloo horn flourishes.
- teemos palace.png (253.21 KiB) Viewed 49 times
Proiah Pron, the Sullustan pilot, comes in next and idles against a wall toward the right. He sets himself up trying to avoid scrutiny about halfway between the entrance and Teemo’s throne. Finally the remaining three enter together. They pass a table where several of Malan Thule’s men sit. Kilian and FL-AR3 approach the table, with Spanner doing his best to hide behind the large droid.
The smuggler tries to strike up a conversation and fishes for information, but Thule’s men are not having it. They are more interested in their drinks than answering Kilian’s questions. Rebuffed the trio take a seat nearby.
Time seems to stand still…
------------------------------------------
Unused XPS (+5 XP)
Spanner - 15
FL-AR3 - 15
Kilian - 15
Pron - 5
Koraz - 10
Group Funds - 1908 credits
3 Geonosian Rifles hidden in cargo hold for Nyn
4 Blaster Pistols