This series is a bit different than those that I usually post. This was conceived more as a dice-powered short story more so than a full-on Actual Play. Using Starforged as the engine, I began to write a fan-fiction based in the Star Wars universe. I've always loved Star Wars and have spent a considerable part of the last 25 years devouring the written and video content produced by George Lucas and his collaborators—especially the content commonly referred to as Legends today. This entry is an ode to my love for the franchise, and is meant as an homage. It is also a method test for writing stories powered by dice. Thank you for joining me on this adventure.
Beren adjusted his helmet, and pressed the hyperspace deactivation button on the stolen ARC-170 snubfighter. The ecumenopolis that was Nar Shaddaa, the Smuggler's Moon, flooded his viewscreen. He’d never been to this particular hive of criminal activity before. The moon’s reputation as being inviolable by the government outside of the Hutt Cartel made it the perfect place for the fleeing Jedi Padawan to disappear.
"Republic ARC-170 what business do you have on Nar Shaddaa," a rough voice echoed through the cabin.
"This ship was stolen from Christophsis. I am not affiliated with the Republic," Beren said, hoping the quaver in his voice didn't give him away.
"What business do you have on Nar Shaddaa, ship thief?"
"I'm looking for work."
Compel
"You've come to the right place, thief. Your ship was indeed reported stolen from Christophsis. Proceed to landing zone A-9. Someone will meet you there to impound your ship. Once your credentials are verified, we will find a buyer for the ship. You will receive sixty percent of the sale."
"What guarantee can you give me that you won't double cross me?"
Laughter echoed through the cockpit. Beren's face turned red in embarrassment.
"We may be a moon full of scum, but we have a code. You will get your cut, ship thief."
The communication closed and Beren breathed a sigh of relief. This first obstacle was the one he worried about the most, but now with it behind him he was able to calm his rattled nerves and focus on landing the ship.
"That went better than expected," he said aloud.
The navigation data pinged on his screen showing a direct path to zone A-9 on the far side of the moon. Beren tapped a few buttons and felt the snub-fighter's autopilot take over.
Set A Course
Resource Update
The landing zone was full. Ships of all sizes and models littered the massive duracrete slab. Beren breathed a sigh of relief when he determined none of the ships were of a kind used by the Republic military.
As the fugitive Jedi clambered down the side of the stolen ARC-170, he spotted a small group of humanoids—an official-looking Zabrak with tan skin and myriad horns along with three armed humans.
"Ah, you must be the ship thief.” When Beren’s expression changed at the address, the Zabrak grinned and continued, “No, no, you'll find no judgments here. It marks you as skilled to steal a Republic fighter right out from under the noses of those clones."
Beren nodded but did not speak, chiding himself instead for letting his feelings show.
"Wise to keep your mouth closed, thief. We will wipe this one's memory banks and find a buyer. Apply the restraining clamps."
Two of the three humans pulled large magnetic clamps from packs on their backs and attached them to the landing gear of the snubfighter.
"See the docking administrator on your way out of the landing platform. They will set you up with a comm frequency where you will be contacted when the ship is sold."
"You have my thanks," Beren said, offering the imposing Zabrak a nod.
"Do not thank me yet, ship thief. We must sell the ship first. Right now it's rather hot, it might take a few cycles to move it."
Advance the Clock
"Understood."
"In that case, Claffin show the ship thief to the dock administrator."
The human called Claffin grunted in response and leveled angry eyes at Beren. He didn't speak, only glared until he turned on his heel and started across the duracrete landing pad. Beren followed, trying not to reach out with the Force to get a sense of what to expect. He knew the Empire would be on the lookout for Jedi, and it was safer to not use the Force for now.
The docking administrator’s assistant, an RA-7 protocol droid body with a 3P0 protocol droid's head, greeted the two humans as they entered the metallic shed that served as the landing pad’s administration office.. The droid’s chunky body platings, all painted various shades of tan and green, made the round head seem much too small. Beren schooled the smile that was growing on his face quickly, before either the droid or Claffin noticed.
"I am RA-7P0, but you may call me Rasp. How may I be of service?" the droid spoke with the eloquent cadence of a 3P0 unit.
"I am Be...Bek. Shade Bek," Beren replied, giving the droid an alias. Shade Bek was a Twi'lek trader who helped him get off world during Order 66. Bek didn't make it through the Republic blockade, but his sacrifice meant Beren was able to make it into hyperspace."I was told you'd provide a comm frequency?"
"Please provide your comm unit."
Beren did so and waited until the droid had programmed the comm device to pick up the signal.
"You will be contacted once your ship has been purchased. Is there anything else I can help you with today?"
"I'm looking for work."
"Perhaps you should ask over at the Slippery Joopa."
"Where's that?"
"Straight out of the landing facility. You can't miss it."
"Thank you, Rasp."
"It is merely my programming to serve, Shade Bek."
The protocol droid was not wrong. The Slippery Juupa was straight across the street from the landing pad. The green lit building was a busy pub, crawling with all manner of beings from a dozen different planets. Inside, the place reeked of sweat and alcohol.
Beren moved quickly to the bar, where a Gand was serving tumblers of brightly colored drinks. When the bartender saw Beren, they sidled over to him and leaned against the bar.
"What can I get you, stranger?" The barkeeper's words came in stilted bursts.
"Looking for work. Rasp over at the landing pad suggested you might have some work for me."
Starsmith Oracle
"Talon Karrde, a lieutenant for the Car'das, needs some information salvaged from a crashed Separatist ship. He's putting together a team."
Gather Information
"Where can I find Karrde?"
"You don't. I'll let slip your interested to the right ears and maybe Karrde will take a chance with you. Maybe," the Gand answered. "Try asking around the landing platform, sometimes a captain is in need of crew."
"Thanks for the help. Tell Karrde Bel Shade is looking for work."
"Don't get your hopes up kid. Not likely he'll come calling."
"Know anywhere I can lay low for a few days?"
"Got credits?"
"A few."
"I've got one room available here. Ten credits a night."
"That's...out of my price range," the young fugitive replied. "Thanks anyway."
"Now hold on,” the Gand snapped quickly, a mischievous glint in his big, black eyes. "I don't have any paying work, but I do have a problem that I need handled. You look capable, how about you do something for me, I'll let you stay for a while, no charge."
Oracle
"I'm listening."
"Old Town, a less…reputable part of the planet, is having problems with some rough individuals. Now, usually, we don't interfere. But this gang is starting to get uppity. We can't have that. If the Hutts hear about it, they'll move in and take a tighter hold. Convince their leader to back off, or take them out, and you've got a place to stay."
Beren considered the offer. On the one hand, lowlifes shouldn't be difficult to handle. On the other, if it came to violence it would only draw more attention to him. But he knew he couldn't pass up free housing, not with the Republic accounts the Jedi used certainly watched, if not seized.
"I'll do as you wish, you have my word," Beren said.
Swear an Iron Vow
Resource Update
"Good, good. I'll show you to your room. Get settled and rest up. Tomorrow I'll show you around Old Town."
The Gand showed him to his room, a small space barely larger than a closet in the darkest corner of the building. It had a bed, which appeared to be clean, and a small shelf above the bed. A single, small light hanging from the ceiling on a thin wire was the only source of light in the dark space.
"It's not much, kid, but it's about as safe as you can get on Nar Shaddaa."
"Thanks. I'll be around in the morning."
The barkeep nodded and left Beren standing in the open doorway alone. He took a deep, settling breath and walked inside. The door closed silently behind him and he sat down on the bed and put his head in his hands.
"Master, I wish you were here," he whispered, hoping that the Force would bring him comfort. "I do not know if I can make it without you."
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