Email to Dr Ubbit:

Ztaka wrote:

Hey Doc!

So, I was hanging out, minding my own business, in some Hutt's palace on Nar Shaddaa. OK, not really "hanging out". More like "sneaking around". I was on a mission for you-know-who.

Anyway, I happened upon a mail exchange between whoever owned the palace I was in and Beedle the Hutt. Beedle was asking for information on Joorkaan. The other Hutt didn't know much, but it seems Joorkaan had been asking around about Beedle a whole lot. It seems the big fur-ball's got something personal against the Hutt.

Maybe we could make an alliance with him? Just make sure you don't mention my name if we do... I don't fancy getting in the middle of an all-out war between a Wookie and a Hutt...

Sahak Chir!

-Ztaka

A pre-recorded holovid transmission dated sometime late last night arrives.  It is on for a short time with no one there; the transmission has a bit of static and is filled with boisterous noise.  Then Relastra appears, with a bit of a surprised look.  His shirt is blotched with wet patches, his hair is absolutely a mess, and he's not exactly standing upright...though none of this appears to be injury related.

"Where are we?"

"Nikto sector.  After being refused admission at Club Vertica due to your current cognitive state, you hopped a cab here.  Now go on, tell him," a mechanical voice prompts.

Rel looks down towards a vest pocket, pauses, then looks back up. "OH, DOC!  WHAT. A. NIGHT!" he says with a foolish grin. "Hey....there's a guy I think you might need to take a look at...he's been puking in that Hutt fountain on the Lower Prom for DAAYYS-"

"No..the CARD!" interrupts the voice.

"Oh, ya, ya!" Rel exclaims and begins to pat various pockets.  Looking down, rummaging though pockets, often the same one several times, he continues, "...so after that excitement at the club, Jeos, Tyron and I were standing around outside."  Rel pauses to reach deeply in a pocket but finds nothing of interest.  "Well, the club looked like it was clearing up, so I left them and went back in to see if maybe Dave's tab was still up...IT WAS!!" The rummaging continued.  "Did you know they have AMAZING air handlers in that place?  Apparently the N.S. 'stuffies' give the place a regular tear gas shakedown.  Anyway..." Rel's face lights up with the excitement of success as he produces a Pazaak card from a pocket he had already searched several times.  "...I poked around where that sully was standing and found this datacard...it's encrypted though."  Rel turns his head toward the Pazaak card he's waggling and gets a look of sudden shock. "Huh, that's not it." The Pazaak card disappears back in a pocket.  "...did win that off a guy tonight, though...Ah, here!" Rel holds up a small datacard held corner to corner between his thumb and forefinger. "Tomorrow we'll get-"

"Come ON, let's GO-O!" a female voice interrupted impatiently.  A pale yellow arm adorned with several silver bracelets slipped into view, hooked Rel by the elbow and started to tug him along, ending the transmission.

Following up on the Sullustan lead, Relastra slips into Shadow Town early to see if anything unusual is afoot.  It's not that he doesn't trust the Doc's data, its just that there are a lot of credits riding on this; best to make sure it is not a trap.  Shadow Town is quiet....unusually quiet....

I had walked myself off my feet.  It had been nearly twelve hours since the fight in Shadow Town.  Twelve hours since Mikita, Relastra, and Ubbit had been caught and locked away.  I had plastered my contacts.  I didn’t directly ask about Imperial prisoners, but I had prodded, looking for Sullustians dropping large amounts of credits, Imperials buying . . . exotic medical equipment, or any combination of such.

I had quietly pushed at everyone I knew.  Ular, Chubby Kovo, Izaia the Red (or the Bloody, depending on if he liked you or not), Frans Sor, “Cold-Eye” Wetev.  I had even slipped words with the Hutts.

Somewhere in there I had made it back to the spaceport and snagged a quick nap and snack aboard Landslide, but I was still running on yesterday’s energy.  I told myself I needed to rest, that it would take time for the information I wanted to start filtering in.  I was too keyed up.  I had never (rarely?) been this concerned.  I was letting my lack of sleep get to me.

“You have a message sir.”

I opened my eyes and found I’d been snoozing in the pilot’s chair.  Armor and all.  I sat up, trying to work the kink out of my neck.  “Who’s it from?”

“Unknown sender sir.”

“Stop with the ‘sir’.”  Anyone I knew could be trying to contact me, and if they were trying to keep it quiet . . . well it wouldn’t be merely social.  So it was likely important.  “Pull it up here.”

“It’s text only sir.”

Mikita Bondara wrote:

Skorlen.

Don’t ask how I got this message out.  Probably a one-time deal, so I figure I better use it for something important.

Not a lot of time, so I’ll be brief.  I didn’t know who else to contact – you’re the only one in the Syndicate that my ship has met.  That /should/ mean he won’t shoot you if you get too close.  If you’re still on NarShad (I don’t blame you if you aren’t).  Could you go to Hangar 76 and tell Dessie to initiate security code Echo 2?  He’ll know what to do.

PS:  Oh . . . and I think I lost your light in all the excitement, by the way.  There’s on in my quarters on the Desperado.  You might as well take it while you’re there.  I’ll get a new one when we get out of here.

Which /will/ happen.

Soon, I hope.

Miki

I felt my stomach roll over.  Alive!

I took a deep breath, exhaustion forgotten.  “Lock up behind me Arty, I’m going out.”

“Like that sir?”  He sounded vaguely parental.  I would need to get that checked out.

I looked down at myself.  My armor had a nice black ripped line of a scar across the chestplate, there was carbon scoring from blaster fire, there was dried gunk up to my thighs.  I looked a wreck.

I pulled on my helmet.  “Anyone sees me, they’ll know they’re tangling with someone who actually knows how to use the armor suit.  Might give them pause.”


Hangar 76 wasn’t too hard to find actually, I eased around the corner and into the bay, making sure to keep my rifle slung across my back and my hands empty and in the open.  I had no idea if Desperado would understand the gesture, but I figured it wouldn’t hurt to be careful.  I knew Arty / Landslide could be downright hostile to any strangers; I had no idea if Desperado was the same, but from Mikita’s message, it would be a good bet.

“Desperado?  Hey, Desperado it’s me, Skorlen.  Dannik Skorlen.”  I felt like I was trying to talk to a skittish nerf calf.  I approached the boarding ramp feeling more and more ludicrous as I went.  This is stupid. I reached the foot of the ramp to no reaction.  I hadn’t been blasted yet, but I also hadn’t heard Desperado’s voice either.  Had it been anyone else, I would have walked out, but Mikita deserved at least my trying.

I sighed, deciding to take a risk.  I pulled off my helmet.  I felt exposed, but it wasn’t like my shield and armor would do any good against starship-grade weaponry.

“Hello Mr. Skorlen.  Did you say Mistress Miki sent you?”  Howzabout that?  It worked.  It talked too.

“Yeah.  She needs our help.  A business deal . . . went sour.”

“Did you get her captured?”  There was no vocal change, but I suddenly felt on the spot, like the temperature had dropped twenty degrees.  I almost imagined I could hear the blaster cannon capacitors charging.

“No.  No, I was there helping her.  We walked into a trap.  I tried to get her out – well, I tried to get everyone out – she fell into some kind of cryo-storage vat.  I couldn’t get her out.  There were a lot of Imperials.”  It sounded weak.  I should have tried harder, tried something else.  Brainstormed a better plan.  I promised – for the fortieth time - I would take that Sullustian’s ears as a trophy.

The hatch popped open and the interior lit up.

I wandered aboard, I’d been inside a few times, so I made my way to the bridge without incident.  “Mikita wanted me to give you a message.  She said ‘activate security code Echo Two.’”

The ship remained silent.

The vague feeling of ridiculous returned.  “Activate Security Code Echo Two.”

From somewhere in the ship came a faint hum, I heard the boarding hatch snap shut.  “Echo Two activated.”  Depserado intoned.

I pulled my helmet back on.  Here went nothing.

Ztaka had gone back to the Crow after the failure of the other night. She had troubles getting to sleep. She didn't like leaving friends behind. You didn't have that problem when you worked alone. Then again, working alone was not nearly as much fun. Also, working alone, she might not have managed to get past the Sith. When she finally fell asleep, she slept heavily and for a long time.

The following day, she went back snooping around Shadow Town. She'd already made it in once about six months earlier, on a mission for the Syndicate. As much as she loved getting in new places, she had a strong aversion for prisons. Especially when they involved brain bombs. And Siths.

Still, friends were in there. She snooped around the whole perimeter of Shadow Town, looking for potential entrances. She hacked some terminals to try to locate vents and sewers that could get her in. The brain bombs would be a problem, but there was nothing she could do about it. She'd just have to hope other people from the Syndicate could take care of them. What she could do was get in, get out, and bring tools if needed.

Once, as she was investigating a potential entrance (only to find it was blocked and would not be opened by anything less than a big explosion - still, she took note of it, thinking of Franci), she even caught a glimpse of Mikita. At least they're alive...

That night, getting back to her ship, she fired her computer and sent the following message to the people who had been there:

Ztaka wrote:

Guys,
I've been snooping around Shadow Town for most of today. I did find a couple entrances I might be able to use to get in. I don't think most of you guys can follow through, though.

I did see Mikita there, though. So she's alive at least. Seeing how she seemed to walk around freely, I'd guess she's got a brain bomb.

Anybody got a plan for busting them out? Security is still tight, but I expect it'll get back to normal in a couple of days. I can probably get in and out again if needed, and I can bring some stuff in, but I'll only do this once. Too risky. Me getting a brain bomb wouldn't help.

Also, we don't know if the rycrit-loving Sullustan got any plans for them. Better act sooner than later...

-Ztaka Vao

Then she caught a two hours nap and went back out to see how different things were at night. Not that night or day made much difference on Nar Shaddaa anyway... But who knows...

“Time to go NOW!” Jeos has grabbed her arm and firing with one hand pulling her with the other, dragged her out of the room. The last thing she saw before the room filled with smoke from her grenade was the Doctor in the tank as it was filling up…

Franci stared at the ceiling. Jeos had been hurt and she didn’t feel bad about helping him. The armor had saved his life but the wound was still nasty. At least the medical droid seemed to like her now. They had worked together to patch him up.

And Jeos had said…

She shook her head, what he said, could be examined later. Now, she needed to think, needed to find out what the others were doing.  She needed to help, make up for running and leaving them behind. Her Dad always said it was the most important thing. You NEVER EVER leave anyone behind.

What should she do, what can she do…

This ship has an armory; I’ll bet it has a place to make things if not a full lab.  She looked at Jeos one more time. He seemed to be sleeping soundly. For a moment she wondered if the droid had given him…no, he said the spice had been thrown out. 
Slipping out of the room, she found the place she was looking for and it wasn’t long until her off key humming was heard on the secure com-link as she immersed herself in her work.

They would need cryo grenades, and smoke and, at least, a few that would give the Imps a taste of their own medicine.

Everyone, this is Doctor Wheatley Ubbit, reporting in via the secure CTE frequency. Thankfully, Relastra was able to slice through the scrambling technology the Imps have got set up, so we can occasionally communicate with the outside world.

However, this may be the last you hear from me before things start to go into motion.

In three days, Agent 42 (the Sullustan we've come to know and love) will be unveiling a new Imperial plan in front of the Nar Shaddaa elite. That plan revolves around the Anomid that they have captured, and are keeping on the brink of death as a slave. Serendipitous, he's being kept in the medical ward where the supplies we need to escape custody are stashed. Cinia has agreed to lead a small strike team into the medical ward to recover the supplies, as well as the Anomid. We've also got a rendevzous point set up within Shadow Town, that the Imps don't seem to have found out about yet. This is where we'll be planning our escape from.

To everyone else, I leave you the coordinates of the pleasure barge where the Sullustan and his officers are planning their great unveiling. You must stall him. As soon as his scheme is public knowledge, they have no need to keep us alive anymore. We need time for me to perform these operations and get us all safely out of Shadow Town.

And then the fun will really start.

Ubbit out.

Due to a reported attack on the Shadow Town facilities within the last 24 hours, access code cycling and refresh has jumped from a lax 24-48 hour span (Imperial records mandate a 24 hour refresh on codes used in Maximum Security areas) to a rigorous 12 hour cycle.  Physical security to access terminals on the periphery of the prison has been stepped up, but no appreciable change other than increased patrols have been noted deeper within.