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/tg/ - Traditional Games


PREVIOUSLY: http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/archive.html?searchall=Fortune+Hunter

Alright, this is your first time ever flying an R-22 Spearhead. You had heard the rumors regarding the Rebel Alliance developing a new model based off of this particular craft, and you can certainly understand why. Unparalleled speed with decent armament and a deflector shield, this thing certainly can go toe-to-toe with a TIE Fighter on paper. The first thing you notice immediately though is how cramped the cockpit is. A lot of people like to make a go of the fact that the TIE Pilot cockpits look cramped, but in actuality as long as you’re not a giant it’s pretty roomy. This was not, but it was cozy in a way.

You grab the stick and flip on the commlink. “R5, give me status.”

R5 radios over to you. “We have four Incom T-65 X-Wings on pursuit.” Let’s see. The nose of this R-22 is actually facing towards your engines. So… “Currently at attack position.” The Barloz rumbles a little. X-Wings, very, very good Starfighters. “They are keeping speed and attempting to snipe the engines to render us immobile, sir.”

“Alright, Lev. Keep straight, full speed.”

“Sir.” Lev signals you, a slight inflection to his droning monotone. “If we continue straight, they will catch up and disable us.”

“Just trust me,” you say. You quickly flip the power on. First the weapons, then the shields. A pair of concussion missile launchers with two missiles per launcher, and a pair of laser cannons as well. You’re already feeling at home now. You quickly pull on an emergency oxygen mask for those tight spots, then lower the sun visor down on your helmet. “R5, release on my mark.” A few affirmative beeps, signaling that he’s in position. You see, the Barloz-class freighter isn’t supposed to be able to carry fighters.

[1/2]
>>
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>>43504641
[2/2]

This one does. “Mark.” Like a spring, the bottom of the ship folds open and spears you out of the bay. Sheer momentum is actually carrying you backwards with the Barloz beneath it. And in a split second, your targeting computer tracks an X-Wing. “There you are.” Zap, and you knock up a kill. The debris and sparks go flying right past you. You hit the throttle and quickly speed on.

“Sir, we are receiving transmission from the Rebel frigate. Stand-by,” says Lev. Your comm-link switches over to their channel.

“What the hell was that!? Nobody said he had a fighter!” yells the Resonator’s captain. “Argh! All fighters, focus on that R-22, leave the freighter!” Lev immediately retreats to a safe distance. You won’t have his fire support for now, but you won’t need it. As good as the X-Wing is at starfighting, they have never seen the likes of you. Consider it like Wookiees travelling to Mustafar. You quickly adjust your target scope, then take a quick glance at your scanners. Three X-Wings, all breaking off into a flying wedge pursuit pattern behind you. They are closing to attack distance. In front of you is the Resonator, a good ways away ready to provide fire support for them.

Hmph, just like Flight School.

> Bring the X-Wings around, take them individually.
> Head towards the Frigate, brave their point defense fire, maybe even get a shot or two in.
> Pull the X-Wings towards your Barloz, a little extra fire support never hurt.
> Other
>>
>>43504659
>Bring the X-Wings around, take them individually.
>>
>>43504659
>Bring the X-Wings around, take them individually.
>>
>>43504659
> Bring the X-Wings around, take them individually.
>>
>>43504659

> Bring the X-Wings around, take them individually
>>
> Bring the X-Wings around, take them individually.

Right, the only person who will have the advantage is you when you’re done here. It’s only a trio of X-Wings after all. At least they’re not Skiprays. The X-Wings start closing their formation. Now, if you remember correctly about the specs on the X-Wing, it’s that they have wing-tip laser cannons. Now, you kind of feel like seeing if it is indeed possible to get into the “magic zone”. If you get close enough, there’ll be a blind spot where their weapons can’t reach you because you’re too close and the guns are spread too far.

A barrage of laser blasts shoot past you. Okay, you don’t feel like testing it anymore. They’ve got numbers on their side but thankfully, they’re only attack from one angle, behind. Note to self, buy Buzz Droids next time you’re at Smuggler’s Haven. You should’ve gotten them while they were on discount. You wheel left, spinning wildly. The X-Wings have a marginally wider turn radius than you, but marginal differences can mean life or death out in space. And unfortunately, since this isn’t atmosphere, your advantage is just as marginal. You can’t bleed speed out here as easily as you can in an atmosphere.

You can gain a heck of a lot of it though. You boost, forcing yourself back into the harness. “Alright, alright…” you mutter yourself, grinding your teeth. “Come on…” You take a look at your visual scanner, they’re still behind you, but the distance is slowly increasing. Just what you need. “And here we go!” You pull up. Your vision gets slightly darker as you pull upwards at speeds that would paste you against a wall. The X-Wings follow suit, ready to catch you.

[1/3]
>>
>>43505376
[2/3]

“And stop!” you yell to no one. You pull back the throttle, nearly shutting the engine off completely. Now, momentum is all that’s keeping you going. You pull left, shoving the R-22 around slowly. “Hey, fellas!” Your targeting computer gets a good lock. You fire. You get off three or four shots, blasting apart one X-Wing’s wings and sending it flying off into space. Either you got lucky on your purchase and you got some illegally high-powered cannons, or those deflector shields really are coward’s tools. The other two X-Wings break off in different directions.

“Ah, screw this! I’m breaking off!” yells one of the X-Wing pilots. You see one of the X-Wings disappear from your scanner. He must have retreated into hyperspace.

“Come back! Agh! Damn it!” The captain is too late to try and rally him. “Get him! Get him!” You pull your R22 back into level flight, nose first. That other X-Wing resumes pursuit, above you. Lasers shoot, getting absorbed by your shields until one finds its mark. It scorches one of the side panels on the left. Already you’re getting warnings about damage to the hull, nothing serious though. Just have to give time for the shields to bounce back. He’s already overshot and appears to be slowing down.
>>
>>43505396
[3/3]

Welp, time for the scissors then. The two of you spin around, trying to force the other into the front. This last X-Wing pilot clearly knows his piloting, probably an ex-graduate from the Academy, you knew quite a few people who went there just for training. But you knew fewer still who could match you in the sims.

You get a slight gut feeling all of a sudden. “Hm…” you growl a little, wheeling left. He then breaks left, right in front of you. There! You squeeze the triggers. Your lasers blast apart his engines, and he goes spinning off into space, on fire. “Haha!” you yell. You slap the side of the consoles, grinning widely. “How do you like that, you amateurs!”

“Ah! Break off!” yells the Rebel captain. “Get into hyperspace now!” You look back to see the Nebulon-B trying to turn tail and run.

> Not on your watch.
> Let them go, you’ve kicked them around enough.
> Other
>>
>>43505417
>Not on your watch.
>>
>>43505417
> Not on your watch.
>>
>>43505417
>Not on your watch.
>>
>>43505417
>Not on your watch.
Kill them. All of them.
We can loot their stuff afterwards.
>>
>>43505417
>Let them go, you’ve kicked them around enough.
We've made our point.
>>
>>43505417
> Let them go, you’ve kicked them around enough
>>
>>43505417
>Let them go, you’ve kicked them around enough
>>
>>43505417
>> Not on your watch
>>
>>43505440
>>43505479
>>43505532
>>43505547
>>43505656
What are we gonna do in a little snubnose fighter against a Rebel battleship?
>>
>>43505711
Take out the engines with our missiles, cause some hull breaches, and bring in our freighter to loot the frigate.
>>
>>43505711
Be manly.
>>
Oh, wait, as a Privateer, do we get bounties on confirmed Rebel kills?
>>
>>43505711
it is a neb-b just hit the middle part and the ship is fucked
>>
>>43505919
Yes, that was one of the main clauses of the marque agreement we signed with Lotte: a payout for every Rebel takedown.
>>
>>43505952
To that end, we currently have 1 confirmed X-Wing kill and 2 X-Wing incapacitations, for what those are worth. The fourth one bailed.
>>
>>43505999
So here's the question: Does the Neb-B count as a single bounty, or if we space each rebel, can we get paid for both the Neb-B AND the Rebel crew?
>>
>>43506078
Details, details. We'll worry about that later; Lev is almost assuredly grabbing footage of the fight, so he can parse it out later.
>>
>>43506100
Well, if we just blast the frigate, then Lotte's gonna argue that it's a single kill.

But if we disable it and then board it to hunt down and kill the entire crew, then we can get individual bounties.
>>
> Not on your watch.

Nebulon-B Frigates, known for being quite the capable of escort frigate. It is a versatile design packing a powerful deflector shield and an array of turbolaser batteries along with a few laser cannons as well. The Empire and the Rebel Alliance love this thing. But there is one weakness that they did not teach anybody about in school, and it was a weakness that got you reprimanded when you exploited it during a sim.

That midsection under concentrated fire will collapse.

You pull your R-22 around, facing the broadside of the Resonator. “Calculate jump, now, now!” yells the Captain in a panicky tone of voice. The Barloz is coming up behind you, ready to provide support if necessary. “Ah, frakking hell, get the turbolasers firing!” Green bolts of energy start shooting past you. Thankfully, you’re a small and fast enough target that they can’t track you correctly. “Just hit the damn guy!”

“Lev, get ready to fire on my word,” you say. You switch armament power to the concussion missiles. As quick as lightning you adjust the targeting scope to lock onto the midsection of the Resonator. “Steady.” A turbolaser shot flies right by, cooking your deflectors down to 50% strength. The Barloz tanks a shot, the shields holding barely. “Alright, now!” You fire a pair of concussion missiles. They fly right through the shield and punch a few holes into the midsection. “Lev, give it everything you got!”

The Barloz’s remote turrets spin around, and begin barraging the shields. You see a few fires cooking off from the spot just as you passed around. You pull upwards and reload the concussion missiles. “Here we go!” you yell. “Eat this, reb scum! Yeeee-haw!” you scream. Another pair of missiles fly out, followed by an intense barrage of laser blasts. The missiles explode off the midsection again. Your laser shots punch through the weakened shields, and begin blasting apart the hull.

[1/2]
>>
>>43506150
>But if we disable it and then board it to hunt down and kill the entire crew, then we can get individual bounties.
1. We're a smuggler/ace pilot, not Vader with a battalion of Stormtroopers at his back.
2. We're probably not the sort of person to consider "kill every individual crew member" a kosher thought.
3. We only considered the Rebel clause incidental when we signed the marque. We're not going out of our way to hunt down Rebels.
>>
>>43506206
[2/2]

“Sir!” yells a Rebel operator. “We’ve got a hull breach! The ship’s gonna split in half!”

“No! No! This isn’t happening! Come back you cowards!” The comm-link turns to static as the ship begins shearing itself in half. One half trying desperately to pull into hyperspace, the other blasting apart from venting atmosphere. You’re not sorry about the fact that the crew’s going to spaced. You’re only sorry that you can’t sell off two halves of a Nebulon-B. Maybe salvage though, and hell, that bounty will certainly give a good pay out.

The Nebulon-B stops responding. The Resonator has sheared itself in half completely. The engines explode into blue pulses of energy, apparently still trying to jump to lightspeed. “Whooo! Hahahaha!” You laugh madly to yourself, bouncing in your seat. “Did you see that!? Next time, bring some real pilots! Hahaha! Whooo!”

-

-

An Arquitens-class light cruiser came to salvage the wreck of the Resonator once you signaled it in. The Captain seemed pleasantly surprised that you managed to wreck a Capital ship by yourself with only an aging Barloz and an R-22. “I guess the Academy has succeeded with you, young man. We have informed Commander Ulgo and the money shall be transferred to your account. All survivors will be transported aboard and we will be one step closer to crushing this rebellion. Good work, son.”

[2/3]
>>
>>43506230
[3/3]

“Thank you, Captain.” You turn over the holopad, and show off Lotte, impatiently waiting for you as she taps her foot and folds her arms. “There, you see? First kills of my career. What do you think of that?”

She grins, giggling. “Ah! I guess the Academy’s been better to you than I thought! Three X-Wings, an entire Capital ship, and probably at least a few hundred crewmembers. That’s a few hefty bounty. We’re talking at least 30,000 credits.”

“… 30,000 credits for this?” you ask. Seriously?

“Hey, I’m not made out of money,” she says quickly. “You get 5,000 for each X-Wing, 20,000 for the Capital ship, and a bonus 5,000 for survivors for the Empire to imprison and interrogate.” She grins again, quirking her brow. “How’s about that?”

You frown a little. “It’s a little cheap, don’t you think? A Neb’s worth millions, not 20,000.”

She rolls her eyes. “Rhys. You’re a pilot. Not an economist.” Point. “Speaking of which though, what are you doing? A little birdie told me you were heading for the Core, Coruscant in fact.” You stare at her, folding your arms. “… Vikker told me. But he wouldn’t say why. Care to explain?”

> “Business.”
> “Long story.”
> “Visiting a friend.”
> Other
>>
>>43506261
And immediately I spot a mathing mistake.

That should be 40,000 credits.
>>
>>43506261
>“Long story.”
>>
>>43506261
>> “Business.”
>>
>>43506286
We got the R-22 for 11k, so that skirmish means our little fighter has immediately paid for itself and then some. Now THAT is what you call a good investment.
>>
>>43506261
>“Business.”
>>
>>43506261
>> “Business.”
>>
>>43506224
>We're probably not the sort of person to consider "kill every individual crew member" a kosher thought.
We are definitely the type that will kill without a second thought, and spacing people just for the money is something that we laugh about while doing.
>>
>>43506261
>> “Business.”
>>
> “Business.”

“Business,” you say. “I mean, I just made a ‘lot’ of money.” Air quotes around “lot”. You shrug. “And you know what they say, Lotte. Gotta spend money to make money. Gotta fix up the R-22, took a few hits, Barloz needs some modifications as well. And I think a nice cool drink at that old cantina we used to frequent might suit my fancy. How about that?”

She smirks a little, then tilts her head forward, her eyes shifting up to look at you. “It’s that Zeltron, isn’t it?”

You sigh. “Let’s not ever mention her. Again.”

She holds her hands up. “Fine, heartbreak alley with you on that. I understand.” You roll your eyes. “What, are you visiting Rotta the Hutt again?” Actually, that hadn’t crossed your mind. You haven’t seen Rotta since the Mando job, would be nice to visit him again if you got time. “Is he going to have you steal some art again? I don’t understand how an ace like you and a slob little slug like Rotta somehow have interest in art!”

“Unlike you, Lotte. Me and Rotta are civilized,” you state.

“Feh.” She smiles a little. “As if. Alright then, I won’t prod into your super secret smuggling business then. As long as you keep the Rebels dead and buried, I might just forgive the Kashyyyk stuff. You did leave me alone with a big strong Mandalorian like Kuvasz.” She hugs herself, trying to make herself look as innocent and pure as the day she first hit puberty. “Oooh, Kuvasz, you’re so strong, and so handsome!” She throws her hand onto her forehead, leaning back. “Ooh, take me now!”

“Is that supposed to make me mad, because it might’ve worked if you were in that TIE Pilot suit,” you say. She balks a little, squinting at you. “Bye, Lotte.” You shut off the holopad. “Lev. Status?” You step into the cockpit, and find him in your chair. He stands up, and immediately steps aside for you to resume your post.

“The credits have been transferred to your account. A hyperspace course to Coruscant has been plotted.”

“Alright, buckle up.”

[1/2]
>>
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>>43506806
[2/2]

-

-

You haven’t been to Coruscant in a long, long, while. A big city planet like Coruscant doesn’t really have much for a guy like you. A huge fleet of some of the Empire’s finest vessels were in orbit, everything to the lowly Tartan cruiser, to the imposing Imperial-I Star Destroyer. Vikker already had your craft cleared for landing upon the surface of Coruscant, which meant you could fly right through the fleet without much harm.

As you entered the atmosphere and looked upon the continent spanning city, you watch as a flight of TIE Fighters screams past you. Probably just trying to intimidate you. If anything, they just inspired a little bit of nostalgia in you. That could’ve been you if you hadn’t gotten expelled from the Academy. Oh well, times have changed you suppose. You find yourself on an open air docking bay, and land the Barloz without too much fuss. The boarding ramp is lowered, and out you and Lev go.

A pair of B1 Battle droids, marked off with white paint and Imperial sigils upon their back greet you. “Halt. We will need to search your craft and seize any illegal weaponry.”

“Sure, go ahead,” you say. They step aboard. R5 might be happy to have the company at least. “Lev, stay with the ship. Anything happens, call me.”

“Yes, sir.” You look around to see the vast skyscrapers and buildings of Coruscant. Lanes of hovercars and speeders were stretching right into the horizon. If you ever want to feel like an insect, Coruscant is the place to go. You hail a taxi.

First place you should go…

> Visit Rotta. He’s the go-to man for information. He’ll lead you to your Clone in an instant.
> Head down to the Lower City. Diners are a plenty there, and you feel like a nice walk anyway.
> Find the nearest Cantina and get sloshed.
> Other
>>
>>43506821

> Visit Rotta. He’s the go-to man for information. He’ll lead you to your Clone in an instant.
>>
>>43506821
>Head down to the Lower City. Diners are a plenty there, and you feel like a nice walk anyway.
>>
>>43506821
>> Visit Rotta. He’s the go-to man for information. He’ll lead you to your Clone in an instant

I really wanna meet him now
>>
>>43506821
>> Visit Rotta. He’s the go-to man for information. He’ll lead you to your Clone in an instant
>>
>>43506821
>> Visit Rotta. He’s the go-to man for information. He’ll lead you to your Clone in an instant.


After this we should get upgrades.

Should we make a pastebin our our stuff and equipment?
>>
>>43506821
>Head down to the Lower City. Diners are a plenty there, and you feel like a nice walk anyway.
Let's get some victory pancakes or something. We DID just get our first Rebel payout.
>>
>>43506821
>Visit Rotta. He’s the go-to man for information. He’ll lead you to your Clone in an instant.
Remember, there's another player also going for the treasure. Don't delay.
>>
>>43506821
> Visit Rotta. He’s the go-to man for information. He’ll lead you to your Clone in an instant.

Hey I believe I have the perfect name for our Barloz. Something that sounds respectable and dashing to prim and proper types, but our type of scum will get the joke. A name that really shows our love-hate relationship with the vessel. A name that's so irreverent that anybody will both smile and pray to God they never get named as being shot down bye it. Gentlemen:
The Whiskey Richard
>>
>>43506940
You're free to do so, would take a load off of me.
>>
>>43507097
I like it
>>
>>43507119
I will abuse the wiki are you fine with that?
>>
>>43507132
> implying I don't abuse it already.
>>
>>43507144
Fine just give me how much cash he has right now, besides the 40,000 credits. and any modifications he has besides his frigate.
>>
>>43507176
Definitely need hidden quad linked turrets. Maybe tactical jammers, hull and shield upgrades, maybe get a few people on board as a gunner or engineer?
>>
>>43507176
I think we were covering cash in broad strokes, so I wouldn't worry too much about that. If anything, you can say that any cash Rhys had before the Rebel payday counts as a nondescript "rainy day fund."
>>
>>43507277
We'll expand our crew in due time. A smuggler's operation is naturally slim; unnecessarily bulking up the operation will lead to headaches down the road. The crew will expand out of necessity, not convenience.
>>
> Visit Rotta. He’s the go-to man for information. He’ll lead you to your Clone in an instant.


-

-

A pair of B2 Super Battle Droids were performing bouncer duties for Rotta’s art gallery. It was not the most biggest building in Coruscant, but it certainly was one of your favorites. One of the droids said, “I don’t understand why we have to wear bowties.” The two droids wore black bowties clipped to their chests, underneath their heads. “We’re droids. We’re better than this.”

“Your bowtie is crooked,” said the other. The first immediately fixed it. Upon your arrival, they immediately recognize you. “Rhys Cykgil. What are you doing here?”

“I’m here to see Rotta,” you say. “Looking good you two. The bowties are new.”

“Rotta the Hutt is hosting an art gala tonight. We are supposed to look ‘fancy’”. The two droids look anything but, however the effort counts you guess. “We will lead you in, follow us.” The droids open the glittering double doors for you, then lead you into the wide expanse of Rotta’s art gallery. It was a huge hall, where upon the walls stood murals telling the history of the Galactic Republic, and on the ceiling was a great map of the Galaxy. All over the floor, on pedestals guarded by strong blasterproof glass were amazing works of art and sculptures. And at the centerpiece of it all was a Basilisk War Droid, mounted by a wax figurine of a Mandalorian Neo-Crusader.

[1/2]
>>
>>43507309
I'm only saying one or two for right now. Lev stuffing that datapad away last session is weird.
>>
>>43507352
[2/2]

Already, you could hear Rotta’s voice echoing through the halls. “Ugh, terrible, absolutely disgusting! How can you call this garbage a work of art!?” Yep, that’s Rotta, refined lower city accent and all. As you turn the corner into one of the prominent wings dedicated to the Old Republic, you find him shouting down a young, cute looking art student. And what… what is that? You step forward, not getting his attention. Rotta is currently wearing a white suit, stained with sweat and probably a few food chunks, and a white hat shading him from the outside sun. “Despicable! I cannot in good conscience display this absolutely horrible thing in my gala tonight!”

“B-… but it’s an absolutely beautiful work of art that portrays the horrific yet understanding relationship between the Empire and Rebel Alliance!” What. “I- I can further explain-“

“No, no! Guards!” A pair of droidekas immediately rolled out of vents and boxed her in. “Take her away!” They clicked and whirred, immediately escorting the student out. However, they left the so-called artwork on the floor. “Ugh, how can this day get any worse!?”

“It just did,” you say. Rotta blinks, then turns his head. You smile, holding out your arms. “How are you doing, Rotta?”

“Rhys!” He yells happily, slithering over to you. “Oh, give me a hug, my good man!” You give him a gentle hug, careful not to linger in the scent and sweat of Hutt for too long. “Ohoho! It’s been too long! I never did get to thank you in person for the deliverance of House Viszla’s ceremonial Basilisk! That sculpture has increased my attendance threefold thanks to you! Hohoho!”

You grin. His enthusiasm is a little contagious. “No thanks is necessary. A few hearts had to be broken but you know.” He nods, understanding of it. “The heck is this?” you point to the student’s artwork.

[2/3]
>>
>>43507370
[3/3]

“I don’t know. Guards,” he says quickly. The two B2s who escorted you in quickly draw their wrist-mounted blasters and shoot it to pieces. All that’s left is scorch marks and shrapnel. “Thank you.” They immediately turn around walk back to the entrance. “Ugh, no one has appreciation for anatomy like you or me.” Oh, you appreciate anatomy quite a bit, in many ways. “The simple still life of fruit in a bowl, or the understanding of how light casts a shadow on a man! But instead… we get piles of scrap, clashing colors, and…” He shudders a little. “Live performance art.” He shakes his head. “Why are you here? I assume business?”

“Yeah,” you say. “I’m looking for a Clone. CT-62/2120, name of Diver. He runs an old diner around here but Vikker didn’t tell me which.”

Rotta nods, scratching at his chin. “Tell you what. Walk with me, talk with me.” You step next to him, keeping pace as the two of you walk around his art gallery. “I know Diver actually.” Does he? “He owns a diner on 63rd Avenue in the Lower City, but he hasn’t been cooking or managing it lately.” He leans over to you. “He’s been to the Swoop Races.”

“Oh, is it already Swoop season?” you ask.

“Yes.” Rotta grumbles a little. “I keep telling Diver that he doesn’t have a Jedi’s luck but he doesn’t listen! He bet two of his waiting droids on the races a few weeks ago, lost them both. I am afraid that Diver may lose his diner too if he is not careful. And that little astromech too, very lovely specimen.” He has an astromech, excellent, you’re not too late then! “I do believe he’s probably at his diner right now, I can hail a taxi for you if you’d like.”

“That’d be great, Rotta. Standard fee of 300?” you ask.

“Oh, no, no! Consider this on me, for the Basilisk!” He grabs your arm, smiling warmly. “And your appreciation of the arts!”

> “I’m going to feel guilty. Let me at least pay you.”
> “Thanks, Rotta. For a Hutt, you’re not so bad.”
> Other
>>
>>43507394
Rotta, you are a gentleman and a scholar.
>>
>>43507394
>> “I’m going to feel guilty. Let me at least pay you.”

This as well>>43507440
>>
>>43507440
secounded
>>
>>43507394
>> “I’m going to feel guilty. Let me at least pay you.”
Nononononono no freebies from a Hutt. Keep refusing him politely. As a fellow art appreciator we have taken enough of his time.
>>
>>43507394
>“I’m going to feel guilty. Let me at least pay you.”
>>
>>43507394
> “I’m going to feel guilty. Let me at least pay you.”
Hey its to help the appreciation of art! Besides, your good to me, and as a half... well quarter decent bastard I want to be nice back.
>>
>>43507097
The liquor dick? Like how you can't get a hard on after getting drunk or like lick the dick
>>
>>43507721
"Whiskey dick" is a known term, regarding specifically what you mentioned: it's harder to get it up when you're drunk.
>>
>>43507394
Swoop season? Is this space Australia?
>>
>>43507821
I suppose the other one would have made more sense if it was the Richard whiskey instead of the whiskey Richard
>>
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>>43507895
Swoop racing. It's pod racing 2.0.
>>
http://pastebin.com/vsg1DYbK

I made the pastebin.

If there's anything I'm missing let me know.

I essentially added in the bare essentials.
>>
> “I’m going to feel guilty. Let me at least pay you.”

“Rotta, please, I’ll feel guilty.” Plus, prior experience has taught you never to take handouts from Hutts. “You’re a gentleman and a scholar, I hope the pursuit of art has been fulfilling for you.” You quickly pull out a few hundred credit chits out of your account from your PDA and transfer to Rotta’s near instantly.

“I have done more for the Galaxy in 20 years of living than my father has in a century,” he says. “If only he understood how art can grip you, make you laugh and cry, and bring you close and separate you, and have you see different people yet look in a mirror as well!” he says. You do have to say, being the father of one of the most famous crimelords of the Galaxy is not exactly the upbringing you’d think of for Rotta. You suppose the Clone Wars were a different time for him. You chuckle a little, folding your arms. “Tell you what, Rhys! My gala happens to be tonight, it would be a grand thing if you would come and grace us with your presence! Why, the story of how you acquired my centerpiece would captivate the entire party!”

“As much as I love the tribal aesthetic of Neo-Crusaders and the stark realism of the mural depicting the Mandalorian Wars, I might have to pass-“

“There will be free food and booze,” he says quickly, smirking.

“… if I have time,” you say just as quick. “Thanks, Rotta. Stay safe.” You pat him on the cheek, grinning. “And hey, maybe when I retire, you and me get into this business together, alright, Rotta?” He smiles, waving as you walk away. A patrolling droideka walks by. “Hey there.” You pat it on the head, and it purrs happily being petted by you.

[1/2]
>>
>>43507991
[2/2]

-

-

The taxi that Rotta hailed for you arrives in the lower city. You only see the light of the star through gaps in the streets and the buildings now. Being in the Lower City was mostly for cutthroats, beggars, thieves, gangsters, rodians, and people trying to disappear. It was the perfect place for a Clone to lay low after the Clone Wars you guess. You shoved your hands in your pockets and continued walking. This particular part of the Lower City was centered around one of the elevators down into the lower levels, which meant that at least there was Imperial presence down here.

And down on 63rd was the dinner, with an old Republic gunship serving as the headpiece. “The Dive” it was called. Clever naming, Diver. You step in. It was actually a pretty well-kept place, not too dirty but not too clean. Several booths lined the walls, and almost all of them were filled, some with aliens having their morning coffee, others with TIE Pilots on leave.

You shake your head, stepping up to the counter and taking a seat on a stool. A waitress droid rolls over. “Whaddya have, hun?” she asks. “We got Corellian pancakes seasoned with Shaak sauce, we have Gizka hashbrowns, and we have a variety of drinks.”

“Pancakes and a glass of water,” you call. She nods, writing it off and sending it to the kitchen. “And hey, I want to see the owner!” you ask.

[2/3]
>>
>>43508011
“Diver will be back in a few minutes, sweetie,” says the droid. “He’s at the races.” You roll your eyes. You guess you can wait a few minutes.

“Rhys Cykgil.” You blink, then look over at one of the booths. Oh no. “Former Cadet Rhys Cykgil.” Out of one of the booths stood a quadruplet of four TIE Pilots. Three of them were cadets, judging by their size and immaculate uniforms. But the fourth? It was Russ Qel-Dorn. Ugh, this smarmy bastard again. “I thought I saw the last of you when you got expelled from the Academy!” He stepped over and sat on the stool next to you. “Now you’re eating in dive bars wearing ratty clothes like that? I’d have taken you for some gutter trash.” The Cadets laugh, a little forced.

“Nice to see you too, Russ. How’s fifth overall in the class doing for himself?” you ask. He balks a little, but immediately gets back his smug grin.

“Oh, you know, I just knocked up my first Rebel kill yesterday, it was a Z-95 that wandered too far from the pack. Not too far from ace status, right, cadets?” They nod. What yesmen. Is that the Academy is teaching now? “What about you? Retire to a life of making out with Aqualish and drunk flying?”

> “Well, let’s not bring your mother into this.”
> Ignore him. He hates being ignored.
> “Business. Now buzz off.”
> Other
>>
>>43508033
Took out a couple of rebel x wings and a frigate. Got the bounties all to myself. Free-lance is where it is at my poor deluded friend.
>>
>>43508033
>>43508066
This.
>>
>>43508033
> “Business. Now buzz off.”
>>
>>43508033
>Other
Three X-Wings and a Nebulon-B, all with a Barloz freighter and an R-22. Suck my dick.
>>
>>43508033
>Other
"Just being an independent contractor for the Imperial Navy. 3 X-Wings and a Nebulon-B Frigate."
>>
>>43508066
>>43508132
>>43508149
>>
Should I constantly update the Pastebin when every change happens?
>>
>>43508033
>“Well, let’s not bring your mother into this.”
>>43508033 then
>“Business. Now buzz off
>>
>>43508033
"Just soloed three X-wings and a Nebulon-B. But I guess you deserve a little praise for the easy kill."
>>
>>43508177
I wouldn't fuss too much.
>>
>>43508033
>> “Business. Now buzz off.”
Besides you need five not one.
>>
> Other

“Well, yesterday, I was rolling along in my Barloz.” Russ laughs, chuckling. Yeah, you have to admit, you’d laugh too. “When suddenly a Neb-B and a flight of four X-Wings came out of nowhere and well…” You shrug. “I destroyed them.” Russ stops laughing, halting. The cadets all look at you, wide-eyed. “So yeah.”

“You fought an X-Wing?” One of the bigger cadets, a promising looking guy with stars in his eyes sits on the other side of you. “What were they like?”

“Well, everything they teach you at the Academy,” you say. Russ is immediately quieted by this. It might sound like a lie, but considering he himself has witnessed you, he’s probably doubting himself. “We had an X-Wing to fly at the Academy, learned its capabilities. I tell you, flying one of those X-Wings is like being pushed by the Angels of Iego. Now, the TIE Fighter is great, I actually wrote extensively on the strengths and also weaknesses of the TIE in fact, but the X-Wing is a superior craft in terms of survivability and armament.”

“That sounds like rebel talk,” says Russ. “What, you think an X-Wing is better than a TIE Fighter?”

[1/2]
>>
>>43508033
>You got your first kill just yesterday, about time you joined the club buddy.
>>
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>>43507963
What are the odds we're gonna get our own swoop bike?
>>
>>43508371
[2/2]

“Trust me, Russ. You could be flying in an X-Wing and me in a scrappy old TIE Fighter with only one laser cannon and half engine power and I’d still vape you like in the sims.” He scrunches his face, angrily. “Listen, kids.” The cadets all look at you, attentive. “Don’t be yesmen all your lives, the TIE fighter is not the greatest craft in the world. But you-“ You point to the cadet next to you. “You are what can make it be the most deadly.”

Russ stands up. “I’m not listening to this. Come on!” He immediately storms out of the door, without paying for his meal in fact. The waitress droid yells after him. The cadets slowly file out, one by one. The cadet next to you shakes your hand.

“I-… I read your papers actually, on the TIE fighter,” he says. “You’re a real inspiration to me, Mister Cykgil.” You smile a little. “If there’s anything- Do…” He’s trying to find words. “Do you have any advice for me, whatsoever?”

> “Yeah. Go independent.”
> “Shields are not cowardly.”
> “Boom and zoom.”
> Other
>>
>>43508371
Sure, but then again you can field a much larger amount of ties than X's. And if the pilots good enough he shouldn't even need the number advantage.
>>
>>43508391
>Always have the fight in your head, know what you can do, and what your enemy is capable of, and the end result will never be in doubt.
>>
>>43508391
>> “Shields are not cowardly.

However, since you are riding a TIE Fighter, play to it's strengths.

> “Boom and zoom.”
>>
>>43508391
>Other
I mean what I said. The best ship in the world doesn't mean squat if you're not good enough to handle and master it. It's your skill that will win battles, not your ship. Never forget that, and don't let anyone tell you otherwise.
>>
>>43508391
>If you love flying go independent. If you find its the military environment that's your thing then that's well enough to stay as you are. And don't get cocky, propaganda is no substitutes for being realistic about the capability of the enemy. Even if it were a rat can still kill a giant.
>>
>>43508391
>Make friends in the right places.
>>
>>43508391
>> “Shields are not cowardly.”
>> “Boom and zoom.”
Shields are a tool, just like ECM and maneuvering thrusters. Learn to use them, learn their weaknesses and strengths, but don't cripple yourself depending on them.
Use your fighter's strengths and learn its weaknesses.
>>
>>43508424
secound this
>>
> Other

“Skill wins battles, not ships. Keep your head on straight, know your limits and the enemy’s. And shields are not cowardly, they’re a tool much like your weapons or maneuvering thrusters, or an astromech.” He nods, attentively listening. “Got that?”

“Yeah, yeah,” he says. He grins, shaking your hand again. “Thank you, Mister Cykgil. Listen, if I ever make Squadron Leader.” He places his hand on your shoulder, proudly smiling on you. “I will make sure everyone under my command knows about you.” Oh. Well. That’s nice, you guess. He smiles, waving goodbye and quickly running after his fellow cadets. What a good kid, you hope he doesn’t get vaped.

Crap. You should’ve gotten his name. Oh well.

The door ringed as in stepped in a fat old man, with a white beard and a messy crop of a haircut. “Dottie!” The waitress looks out from the kitchen. “How’d he we do today!?”

“Worse than yesterday! You really gotta stop with the races, Diver!” Diver. You look back to see him step through the counter’s gate and take off his jacket. He grumbles about luck not being on his side today.

“Diver?” you call. He looks over at you, giving you a stinkeye with that cybernetic eye of his and that blind good eye of his too. “My name’s Rhys Cykgil. I believe you have something of interest to me.” He squints at you, grumbling a little. “I’m looking for your astromech droid, it’s got a holodisk I want on it. I’m willing to pay you for it.”

[1/2]
>>
>>43508865
[2/2]

He stares at you, then looks around. “… do I look like I have an astromech following me around?” Actually, now that he says that, no. Where is it? “I lost it in the races today, kid. You’re too late.” Seriously. You stand up, glaring him down. “What!? I ran out of credits, the R2 put me down for another 200 creds! I thought I had it! What, are you after that treasure!?” You cross your arms, silently judging him. “Forget it! It’s probably lost in the void, drifting way the hell away from whatever coordinates those R2s compiled!”

You unclip your blaster from your belt. “Listen, Diver.” He freezes, stunned by your sudden hostility. “That treasure is worth a lot. And you Clones are still a dime a dozen. I’m not a nice person if you get on my bad side, you’re not on it just yet, but you’re getting there.” A few aliens look on from their booths, silently skulking into cover.

“… we got off on the wrong foot.” He steps behind the counter. “Er uh…” You sit down, still glaring at him. “L-… listen, I’m old, okay? I’m not a fighter like I used to be. The fight I’m fighting is the one on the Swoop tracks, okay? The amateur races especially!” You roll your eyes, typical. "I'd race in them myself but look at me! You can understand, right?"

“I guess,” you say sarcastically.

He snaps his finger, grinning. “Maybe you and me can work something out! The R2 and any other collateral items get put into a pool that the racers can win prizes from if they finish within five places of first!” He leans over the counter. “You know how to race a Swoop bike?” You shrug. “I’ll take that as a yes! I’ll bet my diner and my pension on you, and I’ll be rich! And you get your R2! How about that?”

“What stops me from just buying a bike and entering by myself?” you ask. He stares at you, unable to formulate a response.

> “Yeah. I guess we can do it your way, if you’re that desperate.”
> “Right. See you. Off to the bike shop.”
> Other
>>
>>43508893
> “Yeah. I guess we can do it your way, if you’re that desperate.”
>>
>>43508893
>Seriously, have you ever won in these damn things? and did it off set your losses?
>>
>>43508893
> “Yeah. I guess we can do it your way, if you’re that desperate.”
>>
>>43508893
>> “Yeah. I guess we can do it your way, if you’re that desperate.”
I get to keep the swoop bike too.
>>
>>43508893
> “Yeah. I guess we can do it your way, if you’re that desperate.”
He probably has info on the other opponents and such, that and we just want the droid, so its better to have him on our side than opposing us. Even if it were just him telling others seeking us where we were.
>>
>>43508951
this
>>
>>43508893
>“Right. See you. Off to the bike shop.”
>>
> “Yeah. I guess we can do it your way, if you’re that desperate.”

“Alright. I guess we can do it your way, Diver. If you’re that desperate.” He smiles widely, showing off a missing tooth. “Do you at least have a swoop bike we can use? Something fast? I can handle the racing part, all you have to do is trust that I can at least place maybe… third?”

“Oh, I got something fast.” He motions you to follow him around back. A quick walk around the side of the diner and you see something wrapped up in tarp. “You see, they used to call us the Screaming Jags, after the Shriek Hawks of Mandalore because our repulsor packs used to roar like furies when we dropped down on the enemy. And we didn’t always do it alone. Sometimes we had LAATs drop in some tanks, sometimes we had Sabers or AT-RTs. We didn’t get BARC Speeders though, instead we got these pretty little numbers.” He pulls the tarp off, revealing a dusty old Swoop bike. The white paint has more less chipped away to reveal the metal beneath, but you still get the impression of a Clone trooper’s visor along the front.

“What is it?” you ask. He tilts his head, confused at you. “Sorry. I’m a pilot, not a biker.”

“It’s a 105-K Lancer. Powerful acceleration, used to joust with droids with these. You could climb up a sheer wall with these things,” he says. “What d’ya think, eh?” He nudges your elbow, grinning. “Think we can win?”

“We’ll be lucky if we place.”

[1/2]
>>
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>>43509447
[2/2]

-

-

“Attention: All Racers, please register within the next hour.” The announcer calls over the stadium’s loudspeakers. The Coruscant Amateurs Swoop Classic was to begin within the next few hours. “All Swoop bikes must meet racing specifications.”

“Hurry up!” yells Diver as you and R5 struggle to fix up the 105. This thing is older than you are for crying out loud! “We gotta register!”

“Register for me then!” you yell. “You know how to spell my name, right?” He stares at you, slackjawed a little. “The K goes first.” He nods, and he walks away without you. “And don’t go spending your betting money on drinks you old coot!” You shake your head, groaning as you struggle to get the engines back to race level. This thing, it’s worse than having to fix a TIE Bomber. “R5, how’s the controls?”

He whirls his head around. “Stable, but I would advise not braking. They might cause you to accelerate. “Joy.”

“Hey.” You blink, then turn around. Ooh, lovely little legs on her. You slowly turn your head up, showing off the lovely figure of a young little woman, with rag wrappings over her eyes. She brushes a black lock of hair out of her… view you guess? “Is that a 105-K?” You look at R5, then nod. “Pffft. Wow. Old school. What cemetery they dredge you out of, gramps?”

> “The same one I’m about to bury you in if you don’t shut up.”
> “Gramps is not the word I’d use to describe me, dollface.”
> “What bookie is desperate to bet on a blind racer?”
> Other
>>
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>>43508893

> “Yeah. I guess we can do it your way, if you’re that desperate.”


God dammit why do we keep bothering in being such a nice guy? Oh yeah, because we're awesome.
>>
>>43509462
>“Gramps is not the word I’d use to describe me, dollface.”
>>
>>43509462
> “Gramps is not the word I’d use to describe me, dollface.”
>>
>>43509462
> “Gramps is not the word I’d use to describe me, dollface.”
>>
>>43509462
>“Gramps is not the word I’d use to describe me, dollface.”
>>
>>43509462
>> “Gramps is not the word I’d use to describe me, dollface.”
>>
>>43509462
>> “Gramps is not the word I’d use to describe me, dollface.”

Being Space Indiana Jones is suffering.
>>
>>43509462
> “Gramps is not the word I’d use to describe me, dollface.”
>>
>>43509462
>“What bookie is desperate to bet on a blind racer?”
>>
>>43509462
>Other
And who would like to know miss?
>>
I just looked up this speeder and it's a piece of shit.
>>
>>43509462
the retirement home beside the nursery they pulled you out of.
>>
Please, please tell me she is a Miraluka...and that her name os Toph.
>>
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>>43509462
>a young little woman, with rag wrappings over her eyes.
For those unaware, that's most likely a Miraluka, a near-human species that can see via the Force.
>>
>>43509649
>>43509682
>Blind girl that can identify old speeder tech through Force sight
That's a keeper.
>>
>>43509682
>>43509704
Didn't they kinda got purged thanks the empire? What a waste one of my favorite races.
>>
>>43509735
Miralukas are, almost by definition, all Force sensitives, meaning they are prime targets for the Empire. Miraluka Jedi and Sith were common.
>>
> “Gramps is not the word I’d use to describe me, dollface.”

You stand up, smiling a little down on this cute little number standing before you. The eyerags are one thing but you suppose everything else is in tip top shape. “Gramps is not the word I’d use to describe me, dollface.”

Her eye brow quirks a bit. “Dollface? Are you flirting with me?” she says, a little disgusted. She gently pats your chest. “Lemme see…” She pats your arm, grumbling as she gets a feel for your body, your face, your abs, your legs, your abs again, your coat, and your abs again. “Hmph, you ain’t so big, tough guy.” She folds her arms. “105’s got good grip but you’re going to suffer against the Starhawks that every good racer flies with.”

“Maybe I’m just looking for a little bit of fun,” you say, giving her a coy smirk.

“Oi, I see that smirk, I ain’t completely blind,” she mutters. “You watch yourself out there, Gramps, most you’re going to see is my behind.” She walks off. Considering the view you got of her behind, you wouldn’t mind if that was all you saw during the race. You chuckle to yourself.

“Hey. That was the Blind Bandit!” yells one of the racers as he comes over to you. “Wh- what did she to you?”

“She called me old is what I got out of it,” you say. “I’m not that old. Do I look that old?” He shakes his head. “Good.”

[1/2]
>>
>>43509773
[2/2]

“Well, good luck in the race, man.” You offer your hand, and he shakes it. “It’s a race for a second place at this rate with that girl in our circuit. I swear, it’s like she can just see all the corners and all the bends all at once!” He leans over. “Some say she’s just cheating and someone’s feeding the course info.”

“Well, she’s still a damn good racer then if all she has to go on is a general description of the course,” you say.

“Yeah.” He looks down. “Is that a Lancer?” you nod. “Pffft. No wonder she called you old. Still, good luck, my man.” You shake his hand again and he walks off.

“Rhys!” Diver jogs over. “I got you registered! And I got everything bet on you placing within the top five! And there are at least…” he counts it off on his fingers. “Fifty other racers in this course and you’re riding a 105-K so that means you’ve got approximately…” He looks over at R5. R5 turns his head to you.

“300-1 odds of placing fifth,” he says.

You cross your arms. You’re not a biker. You’re a pilot. You’re going to need to figure out a plan for this.

> Cheat, you might as well. Not like you’re going to be racing regularly.
> Play it fair and square. You can always steal the R2 later anyway.
> Other
>>
>>43509735
From Wookieepedia:
>When the Empire arose from the ashes of the Old Republic, the Miraluka suffered tremendously. The Jedi Purge wiped out thousands of Miraluka, as a result they were inspired to join the Rebel Alliance. While a troubled few were pressed into service as pawns and spies for the Empire, these few either fell to the dark side or destroyed themselves.
The age of the Emprie was not a good time to be a Miraluka.
>>
>>43509787
>> Cheat, you might as well. Not like you’re going to be racing regularly.
At least not on Coruscant.
>>
>>43509787
>> Cheat, you might as well. Not like you’re going to be racing regularly.
>>
>>43509787
>Play it fair and square. You can always steal the R2 later anyway.
Pilot skills can transfer over to biker skills pretty handily. Spatial awareness, fast reactions, all that good stuff. The main problem is that, according to everyone else, we're coming in with a major handicap (old tech). We'll figure something out.
>>
>>43509773
>Blind Bandit

I love you QM
>>
>>43509787
>Cheat, you might as well. Not like you’re going to be racing regularly.
we can always steal the droid later if things don't work out.
>>
>>43509682
not involved in this thread but it looked like her forehead was a row of jagged teeth in the thumbnail.
>>
>>43509787
>> Cheat, you might as well. Not like you’re going to be racing regularly.
>>
>>43509867
But if we win we get a Miraluka hunting our ass.


> Cheat, you might as well. Not like you’re going to be racing regularly.
>>
>>43509787
>> Play it fair and square. You can always steal the R2 later anyway.


I want to see how well we play as a pilot.
>>
>>43509787
>Cheat, you might as well. Not like you’re going to be racing regularly.
>>
>>43509787
>Play it fair and square. You can always steal the R2 later anyway.
>>
So quick question are we, pilot first and smugler in second?
>>
>>43509989
Rhys enjoys piloting more than smuggling if you catch that drift.
>>
>>43509989
Pilot that became a smuggler out of necessity, after we got expelled from the Imperial academy for having an opinion.
>>
>>43510002
>>43510009
Oh cool, just checking. Too bad we can't go to our Hutt friend and get some pieces to upgrade our speeder before the race.
>>
>>43510053
No one's going to upgrade something this old.
>>
>>43510064
How can you upgrade this?
>>
>>43509787
> Play it fair and square. You can always steal the R2 later anyway.
>>
>>43510064
Just a thought

>>43510072
The same way one does to a car? Changing the motor, something like that. I'm not a speeder expert much less a car expert..
>>
>>43510094
I wonder, what's the Star Wars equivalent to the Ford Pinto?
>>
> Cheat, you might as well. Not like you’re going to be racing regularly.

“I got an idea.” You look around to see a fuel speeder coming up to top off the tanks of all the speeders. “Wait here.” You quickly jog out to the speeder, and meet with the weequay serving as its operator. He does not look happy to be here. “Hey, buddy.” He looks over at you, grumbling and growling. “Do I know you?” You wrap his arm around him, leading him behind a booth, out of sight and out of mind. “I think I know you. You used to roll with the Ohnaka gang didn’t you? Oh man, Hondo’s fallen on some hard times, you know?”

A few punches and one quick change of wardrobe later, you’re now a fuel worker in a face concealing helmet. You look to see Diver grin at your clever disguise, while R5 simply turns his head side to side in a disapproving gesture. Whatever, you’re not about to be judged by some droids. You grab the fuel hose and grin. “Alright, buddy.” You look up to one young impressionable Rodian racer. “Time to top off your fuel.”

-

-

“Welcome, ladies and gentlemen, to the Coruscant Amateur Classic Swoop Race!” The crowd roars loudly. There has to be hundreds of thousands out in this stadium. You suddenly feel even more smaller than when you did arriving at Coruscant. You gotta wonder how professional sports ballers or racers feel when they do this for a living. “The racers are all lining up at the starting line! We will now list off the racers! Leading us off is #1, the Blind Bandit!” The Blind Girl raises her fist, cheering as the crowd screams at her mention. “#2, the Rodian, Ryleebo! #3, the former podracer, Gasgano!”

Diver checks your helmet and everything else on the bike as you’re all introduced. “Alright, everything appears to be in order. Any last requests?” he asks.

[1/2]
>>
>>43510290
“Yeah.” You nod to him. “If I die, give my ship and everything else on it to Lotte.” He nods, understanding. “And tell Vikker he can go stuff it.” He slowly nods again. You rev the engine, testing it. It purrs a little, but you can barely hear it under the loud roars of the other racers. There’s quite a diverse crowd out here. Of course there was the podracer turned Swoop racer Gasgano. There was that Blind Girl too. Right on your side was a huge Gamorrean with a speeder barely hovering at all.

And then there was you. “And #34, the newcomer, Rhys Cykgil!” You get a polite cheer and applause from the crowd, and you quietly wave back to them. You were in the middle of the pack so far in this starting line up. And a few rows ahead of you was the Blind Girl, already bending over and revving up her engine. Oh yes, you don’t mind that being your view for the entire race. You quickly shake it off.

“Racers, start, your, engines!” You quickly turn down the visor on your helmet, then pull up a wrapping over your face. Here we go. The lights start counting down.

3.

2.

1!

You boom right out of the starting line, along with several others. Everyone else though apparently stalls out or completely fails to even move. The Blind Girl included. Of course, you could’ve just siphoned everyone’s fuel, but then that’d look suspicious if it was just you going ahead. So you also let several others who didn’t seem too imposing go with you. In total, only ten of the fifty racers were moving at all.

And moving you were. The entire track was a blur this close to the ground. You could barely comprehend that there were any turns or any bends or even any straights. A racer pulls up next to you, yelling at you. It was that Gamorrean. He squeals at you as he immediately careens his swoop right into you. You make a hasty recovery, but not before losing first place to him.

Agh, you’re losing to a Gamorrean!

> Let him go, he’ll run himself off.
> Run him off the road.
> Other
>>
>>43510313
>Let him go, he’ll run himself off.
>>
>>43510313
>> Let him go, he’ll run himself off
>>
>>43510313
> Let him go, he’ll run himself off.
>>
>>43510313
>Let him go, he’ll run himself off.
If necessary, defensive driving will let his aggression get the better of him.
>>
>>43510313
>Run him off the road.
>>
>>43510313
>> Let him go, he’ll run himself off.
>>
>>43509917
I kind of want her hunting our ass if you know what I mean but I agree we shouldn't cheat
>>
> Let him go, he’ll run himself off the track soon enough.

No, don’t let your pride get in the way. He’ll run himself off the road soon enough, he’s a Gamorrean after all. You quickly pull in behind him. You take a quick glance behind to see Gasgano, a Rodian, and a Zygerrian also coming in behind you as well. “Talk about your strange racing starts folks! Gage is taking first, with Cykgil in second and Gasgano taking third! It looks like the Blind Bandit has managed to get her engines running now! The leaders are already halfway through the first lap!”

The heat from all these swoop engines is already starting to cook you like a Gizka steak. You need to get the hell out of here! You take another look back to see more racers joining in behind you, the Blind Girl one of them. “Here they come!” yells the announcer. “The Blind Bandit is swooping her way through the ranks!”

Oh great, as if you need something to worry about.

Suddenly, without thinking, you strafe left. Thank goodness too. Gage the Gamorrean had thrown back a spanner to try and knock you out. Gasgano manages to dodge it as well. The Zygerrian… doesn’t. He flies backwards, knocking out another racer, and another, and another. Their bodies and their bikes start piling into one big crash, one that the Blind Girl easily manages to cross right through. “Oh by the Emperor, look at that pile up!” The crowd cheers louder, eager to see some violence in the national pastime.

Oh, you got a cheater on your hands, do you!? You look forward again, bending down and trying to gain on him. Gage cackles madly, his cheeks flapping in the wind. He pulls out another tool, ready to toss it at you. You nod ahead. He blinks, then looks forward to see the sharp corner. He screams as he crashes right through, exploding in a twisted heap of fire and metal.

That ought to teach him not to cheat.

[1/2]
>>
>>43510767
[2/2]

“Rhys Cykgil has taken the lead!” You’ve already gone through five laps of this. You’re not entirely sure how, but you’ve managed to hold the lead. The problem is the Blind Girl is right behind you. She’s trying to find the inside lane, but you won’t give up anything. She can look at your behind for this entire race! “They’re on the final lap now! The Blind Bandit is trying to find a weakness in Rhys’ defenses!”

She immediately finds a hole and pulls in next to you. “And she does!” Oh frak. Your 105-K feels like it’s dying beneath you. Damn it, damn it. You try to squeeze the last bit of life this piece of scrap has left as you watch the finish line draw near. “And here they come! And!”

You both cross. “Oh, it’s too close to call!” You and her quickly pull to the pit stop. You meet with R5 and Diver as the judges start to call on a photo finish.

“Well!” yells Diver. “That was one heck of a race, Rhys!” You grin, throwing off your helmet and pulling down your mask. “I almost believed you were a good racer for a second there.”

“Yeah, so did I,” you mutter. You look to the screen. Still close to call even with the slow motion and that weird angle.

“Oi.” The Blind Girl walks up to you, her helmet resting under her arm. “What did you do?” You tilt your head, trying to mock ignorance. “No rookie ever takes first in their first race, especially not on a Lancer!”

You shrug. “Guess I got lucky.”

“Did you?” She turns her head, clearly not buying it.

> “Yeah.”
> “Hey, no one likes a sore loser.”
> “Well, that breakdown at the start certainly didn’t help you.”
> Other
>>
>>43510789
>> “Yeah.”
>>
>>43510789
>> “Hey, no one likes a sore loser.”
>>
>>43510789
>> “Well, that breakdown at the start certainly didn’t help you.”
Given the Gamorrean kept throwing shit at me, guess my shit ride saved me some hassle.
>>
>>43510789
>Other
I mean, look at you, though. You stalled out there at the beginning, and you still managed to rally all the way to a literal photo finish. If I'M lucky, what does that make YOU?
>>
>>43510789
>"I'da got second if that Gamorrean wasn't a dipshit that wouldn't keep his eyes on the race."
>>
>>43510868
>>43510789
This'n
>>
>>43510789
>“Well, that breakdown at the start certainly didn’t help you.”
> "Thanks for that, by the way, was very useful."
>>
>>43510868
third
>>
>>43510789
Kinda want to pick third option but i don't know if that isn't incriminating or not.
>>
>>43510868
>>43510893
This
>>
>>43510868
Supporting.
>>
>>43510789
> “Yeah
>>
> Other

“Well, look at you.” She stares at you. “… okay, I know you can’t actually look. But come on, you stall in the beginning, now look at you. You rallied all the way to a photo finish from what was essentially last place. If I’m lucky, what does that make you?”

She crosses her arms. “It makes me a skilled racer, unlike you.” Fair point. “I swear, if you manage to win, I am going to-“

“And the Judges have declared #34, Rhys Cykgil, the winner of your Coruscant Amateurs Classic Swoop Race!” Oh. The cheers come around from the crowd. Probably not as big as they would for the Blind Girl, who is now standing in shock staring at you, but you’ll take it. You pump your fist in the air, smiling at everyone and waving your other hand. Diver as well laughs, waving his hands in the air to the sound of the crowd.

Well, you won a Swoop race by cheating. Not the worst thing you’ve done you suppose.

-

-

“Alrighty. So, the winner’s pool includes 5,000 credits for first place, and a pick of one item out of the prize pool.” The lazy looking ugnaught motions to the pile of scrap and items in one of the Stadium warehouses. “I’d pick wisely if I were you, we usually donate this stuff to the poor if we can’t get rid of it.” Fair point. You look around, with Diver helping you look for the R2.

“There!” says Diver. “He’ll take that R2!” You see the R2 buried underneath a pile of old DC-17 blasters. You quickly pull the R2 unit out of the scrap heap, then bang on his hull side. No wonder the old guy bet him off, he’s barely functioning. Come on, is the holodisk in here? You bang on his hull, like burping a baby. Finally, it spits out the holodisk. “Haha!” You grin, holding up. The ugnaught shrugs, writing off the R2 Unit. “I’m rich!” Diver slaps your hand, dancing wildly and madly. “I’m rich!” He grabs your arms, grinning. “You got your droid, I got my credits! See you later, I’m off to the casinos! Hahaha!” You stand there and watch him hail a cab on his way to blow his money.
>>
>>43511393
[2/2]

Well, you suppose once a gambler, always a gambler. You take another look at the holodisk, then run it through the holopad. Yep, the piece of coordinates seems to make sense. It’s starting to narrow down a location in the Unknown Regions. You whistle a little.

“Ahem.” You blink, then turn around to see the Blind Girl. “You know, I only got three K for placing second.”

“Oh, right, sorry,” you say. You offer your hand. “Better luck next time, eh, Blindy?”

“My name’s Beryl,” she states simply. She folds her arms, looking you up and down. “You know, it’s funny, I think you might have cheated.”

You hesitate a little, then place your hands on your hips and look down on her. “What makes you say that, dollface?”

“Maybe the smell of fuel on your jacket and the fact that usual fuel operator happened to be absent today the same day you arrived.,” she says. You blink, then take a quick whiff of yourself. Huh, faint, but it’s there. “So.” She continues to stare at you through the eye wrappings. “How are we going to do this?”

> Charisma: “Well, there’s an art gala tonight, and my good friend Rotta produces art that all can enjoy, even without sight.”
> Intelligence: “Well, that depends on how many credits I can bribe you with.”
> Skill: Make like a Rebel and RUN.
>>
>>43511419
>Skill: Make like a Rebel and RUN.
>>
>>43511419
>Charisma
turn on that old man pilot charm.
>>
>>43511419
>Charisma: “Well, there’s an art gala tonight, and my good friend Rotta produces art that all can enjoy, even without sight.”
>>
>>43511419
>Charisma: “Well, there’s an art gala tonight, and my good friend Rotta produces art that all can enjoy, even without sight.”
Because a gentleman should invite lady mechanics to all fancy parties. Buy her a dress, give her the remaining cash.
>>
>>43511419
>> Charisma: “Well, there’s an art gala tonight, and my good friend Rotta produces art that all can enjoy, even without sight.”
>>
>>43511419
>> Charisma: “Well, there’s an art gala tonight, and my good friend Rotta produces art that all can enjoy, even without sight.”
Also I do have a ship we can go cruise the stars?
>>
>>43511419
>> Charisma: “Well, there’s an art gala tonight, and my good friend Rotta produces art that all can enjoy, even without sight.”
>>
>>43511419
>Charisma: “Well, there’s an art gala tonight, and my good friend Rotta produces art that all can enjoy, even without sight.”
>>
>>43511419
> Charisma: “Well, there’s an art gala tonight, and my good friend Rotta produces art that all can enjoy, even without sight.”
"Look at my bike, now look at yours, and look back at my bike. Sadly your bike isn't my bike. Now back at your bike, now back to me. Its two tickets to that thing you love."
>>
>>43511419
>> Charisma: “Well, there’s an art gala tonight, and my good friend Rotta produces art that all can enjoy, even without sight.”
>>
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>>43511505
I think we're already creating a ship here. If you know what i mean.
>>
>>43511574
Lotte's going to have so many questions if we somehow manage to bring back a Miraluka gearhead.
>>
>>43511595
What happens on Coruscant stays in Coruscant
>>
>>43511691
I think you mean what happens on Coruscant stays on the holonet.
>>
> Charisma: “Well, there’s an art gala tonight, and my good friend Rotta produces art that all can enjoy, even without sight.”

You smile a little, placing your hand on her shoulder and walking her towards your newly acquired swoop bike. “Well, let me tell you something. I know a guy, who can get us into an art gala tonight for free. His name is Rotta the Hutt and he owns the place.” Your smile drops into a coy smirk as you lean on your speeder. “Now, I know you’re blind, but Rotta has art of all kinds, including for those who don’t see. That sound like fair payment?”

She stares at you, disgusted. “Why would I want to waste my time staring at walls?”

“Because there’s going to be free food and booze.” Her position visibly shifts at the prospect of free stuff. She must be poor. “Probably the only reason I’m going too, but you know, it helps if I don’t go alone. What do you say?”

She squints at you. “Well, I know the place…” She thinks it over for a second. “Do I have to dress nice?”

“You’re already dressed nice,” you joke. If she had eyes, she’d probably be rolling them. “If you got a dress, wear it. I’ll meet you there.” You climb up onto your bike and rev the engine. “Go ahead and keep the R2 unit, that’s yours. I got what I came for. Got a name other than Beryl?”

She huffs a little. “Misri Beryl,” she mutters.

“I like Misri,” you say. “It’s cuter.”

“Feh. You know, Rhys. You are not as charming as you think you are.” She glowers a little, standing alongside your bike.

“Yes I am,” you say quickly. You don’t even wait for her reaction, you simply swoop right out of the warehouse and back to your ship.

[1/2]
>>
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>>43511803
>mfw Lotte's discovers us winning the swoop racing
>mfw Rotta's party is a classy one with reporters
>mfw she sees us with the blind girl after a small interview in the holonet.

Fuck.
>>
>>43511953
[2/2]

-

-

“Rhys!” Rotta immediately spots you at the wine table, being served by a very neurotic B1 Battle Droid. He slithers over to you, dressed in his finest white regalia for the event. You yourself broke out all the stops and pulled out a simple white dress shirt, some black pants as well along with a small vest. Nothing too fancy but certainly nothing to scoff at. “Haha! You made it!” You gently hug Rotta again, grinning. “I knew I’d find you at the refreshments table! How are you enjoying yourself?”

You motion around. White walls have been put up to showcase more wall mounted art, with droideka guards patrolling around to make sure nothing goes wrong. “Well, I see lots of fine examples of human anatomy.” You motion to an Imperial Officer, with his wife wearing a very figure hugging white dress with a black stripe. “And some alien as well.” You motion to a Togrutan female, apparently alone, but wearing a two-piece tan dress. “Unless you mean the art in which case a lot of it doesn’t really make sense.”

Rotta groans. “The Senators have been pushing me to showcase more and more of their Arte Moderne lately, I suppose it didn’t hurt to have a few examples. Some are quite ingenious if I do say so myself.”

You nod. “Yeah, the Lovers sculpture over there. Looks like a bunch of twisted metal and yet, I can actually understand the… sort of theme behind it I guess? The notion that it’s two lovers entwined.”

“Oh, I was going to throw that into the scrap heap,” says Rotta. “So, are you here alone?”

“I might have a date,” you say. “Racer from the Swoops today, blind too.”

[2/3]
>>
>>43511972
[3/3]

“Blind, oh she will love the Ithorian throat singing then!” You and him laugh a little at that. Rotta turns his head, then blinks. “Ooh, is that her?” You turn your head, to find her stumbling around, hands forward, trying to figure out where she’s going. Her dress was nice, black, and simple. Her lovely legs as well were darkened from pantyhose you guess too. And her rags seemed a bit more orderly too. With that black hair of hers done up in a ponytail reaching slightly past her shoulders, she seemed to blend right in.

Save for the fact that she knocked over a B2 serving wine. “Oh, I’m sorry!” she says.

“Why is my life like this,” says the B2 as wine starts seeping into his hull.

“Yeah,” you say to Rotta. “That’s her.” Rotta whistles a little, chuckling a bit. Misri quickly stumbles her way over to you, then finds the table. She finds it solidly, then starts to gorge herself on the finger food. “Um. Misri?”

“Oh!” Misri turns around, still chewing food. A few heads turn to her. “Misri Beryl.” She offers her hand. “You must be Rotta.”

“Pleasure,” says Rotta as he politely shakes her hand. “Well, I will leave you two to yourselves.” Rotta winks, and you wink back. The two of you chuckle quietly as he slithers away.

“So, Misri,” you say. “Enjoying yourself?” Her hands go all over the food as she seems to be trying to figure out where exactly the food is or whether something is solid or not. Blind everywhere except the course you suppose.

“No,” she says. “I heard that comment about the Ithorian throat singing by the way. Let’s not do that.” Fair enough. “I’m just here to have my free food and drink, then I’m off!” You nod. Very well.

Your holopad pings. You pull it out, then activate it. Over the radio is Kuvasz. “Rhys, it’s Kuvasz. I need to talk to you about our interlopers.”

“Who’s that?” asks Misri. Oh for, now of all times?!

> “Kuvasz, call me back later.” Hang up.
> “Hold on, Misri. Business talk.” Find someplace private.
> Other
>>
>>43511994
>> “Kuvasz, call me back later.” Hang up.
>>
>>43511994
>> “Hold on, Misri. Business talk.” Find someplace private.
We'll have fun stuffing your face!
>>
>>43511994
> “Oh you know, just business. Hearing about a mysterious shadowy group who's trying to assassinate me. Which is odd because everyone who usually tries to kill me is very upfront about it.” Find someplace private.
>>
>>43511994
> “Oh you know, just business. Hearing about a mysterious shadowy group who's trying to assassinate me. Which is odd because everyone who usually tries to kill me is very upfront about it.” Find someplace private.
>>
>>43511994
>> Other
To Misri : A business partner

To Kuvasz: I'm in the middle of something here now Kuvasz can't you wait a little bit?
>>
>>43511994
>Other
"Can it wait, Kuvasz?"
>>
>>43511994
> “Hold on, Misri. Business talk.” Find someplace private.
>>
>>43512064
>>43512111
Guys! Bitches like mysterious man, let's try to be mysterious
>>
>>43511994
>“Kuvasz, call me back later.” Hang up.
>>
Loved Rotta, he's a cool character. Still a slimy hutt but at least he's a gentleman.
>>
>>43512313
He's an asshole to art students and will destroy any art he personally doesn't like.
>>
>>43512341
thats pretty good for a hutt
>>
>>43512341
Consider that the first hutt most of us saw regularly fed dancers he was displeased with to a giant monster and reassess your opinion of Rotta's relative kindness.
>>
>>43512313
Rotta is a true bro
>>
>>43512341
>He's an asshole to art students
Most art students need to be taken down a peg or two.
>>
>>43512341
Hey it's "modern art" that barely deserves the art part os it. Also as long as we don't stay in his way for a cool piece of art we don't need to worry much with him betraying us.
>>
>>43512408
truer words have never been said
>>
>>43512395
Wow hey there buddy calm down. He's cool and all but if somebody waves a a rt he wants for our heads i doubt he won't be selling us out.
>>
>>43512381
I'm not arguing that Rotta is better than Jabba, but still.
>>
>>43512458
Bro he's a Hutt. I think it would be strange if he didn't had "something off" on him.
>>
> “Hold on, Misri. Business talk.” Find someplace private.

You sigh. You are going to give Kuvasz a stern talking to later if this costs you a night with Misri. “Give me a minute, Misri. It’s just some business talk with a business partner of mine.” She shrugs, continuing to gorge herself on food. You quickly move through the party, trying to find some place private. You spy a few Stormtroopers moving through the crowd too. Who are they looking for? You shake your head, grumbling a little as you find yourself in the bathroom. You quickly take a stall to yourself. “Alright, what is it, Kuvasz?”

He holds up a BX-series Commando Droid’s helmet in his hands, showing it off to you. “You recognize this?” You nod. What’s that got to do with anything? “This guy and two of his friends were the killers of that Clone on Manaan. I tracked them down and got the one but the others got away. They’ve been upgraded to better mimic Stormtroopers.”

“Okay, okay.” Maybe it’s Oktovard then. You wouldn’t be surprised if he had a slimy filthy hand in this. “So… what does this have to do with anything?”

“I called in a favor and got a robolobotomy done on this droid’s head,” he explains. “Most of the memory was corrupted by the time we got to it, but it appears to know you.” … Oh. That is bad. “It also knows Vikker as well, I told him to get to Smuggler’s Moon. These droids are hunting down the Clones one by one, I tried to find Fryer but they found him first.”

You lean on the stall wall, grimacing a little. “So who owns these droids then?”

“I don’t know, all I got was the list of names,” he says. “But whoever it is has already probably sent droids disguised as Stormtroopers to kill you. I suggest you try and lay low, and avoid any Stormtroopers. They might be droids sent to-“ A blaster bolt flies past him. “Oh for-!” He pulls on his helmet.

“Kuvasz!” you yell. “Kuvasz!”

[1/2]
>>
>>43512525
[2/2]

He runs off screen. A pair of Commando droids come into view, firing at his last known position. A droideka backs them up, spraying laser bolts everywhere. The message cuts off entirely.

Oh boy.

You bust out of the stall, then quickly peek out of the bathroom. You see those Stormtroopers from earlier. They show your picture to various partygoers, trying to find you by way of the crowd. So far a few don’t recognize you but it’s only a matter of time.

“Hey!” You jump a bit. Oh, it’s just Misri. “I’m full.” She pats her stomach. “How about we hit a cantina and we call it a night, alright, flyboy?”

“Uh, Misri, listen,” you say. “We actually need to go right now.” You grab her wrist.

“Oh, great!” She grins. “Finally, you know I know- Ow!” You pull her through the crowd. “Wh- where are we going!?” she shouts.

“Listen!” You stop her, grabbing her by the arms and nearly going nose to nose with her. A slight blush runs across her face. No, this isn’t the time to be charming. “I need to get to my ship and find a safe place, do you know any safe places around here?”

“Well, I-“

“Hey!” One of the Stormtroopers spots you. He points his blaster at you. “There he is!” The other Stormtroopers quickly take bursts of agility and jump towards you, blasters at the ready. “Kill him!”

Oh. Crud.
>>
>>43512539
That's it for tonight's episode of Star Wars: Fortune Hunter Quest. Hope you all enjoyed. Tomorrow is a thread of Tank Witches Quest, followed by Magical Girl Liberty on Sunday. Hope to see people there.

Follow at: https://twitter.com/GermanSchteel
Ask at: http://germanschteel.tumblr.com/

See you next time.
>>
>>43512584
Thanks for running, boss.
>>
>>43512539
Shipmate get.
>>
>>43512584
Thanks for running boss
>>
>>43512584
That cliff hanger...god dammit. Thanks for running QM.
>>
>>43512584
http://pastebin.com/h8t6cqvL

Updated Pastebin.

Here you go German, let me know if there's anything I missed though the only thing I might have a issue is credits.
>>
>>43512651
I'll go with the one suggestion from the anon and have everything before the 40,000 credit bounty be a non-descript rainy day fund.

Otherwise, everything looks good.
>>
>>43512690
Btw are we keeping the speeder.
>>
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>>43512313
>>43512341
>>43512364
>>43512381
>>43512395
>>43512408
>>43512408
By the way, funny story to y'all, but I almost made Rotta a near carbon copy of Grakkus from some of the new Star Wars comics. I decided against it though because I thought the art collector part would've been funny.
>>
>>43512732
>muscular hutt
This disturbs me greatly.
>>
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>>43512732
We'd have been fucked a mobile swole as fuck Hutt?
>>
>>43512782
>>43512780

Consider me a merciful god.
>>
>>43512690
Took off a few hundred credits to give to the hutt
>>
>>43512722
Also yeah, you're keeping the speeder.
>>
>>43512820
Going to update it soon. Now to find the specs for the stupid piece of junk
>>
>>43512780
Not all of them can laze about as the head of a criminal empire.
>>
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>Lotte
>>
Update.
http://pastebin.com/iyTev2JT
>>
>>43513263
I think you forgot the DL-44 blaster.
>>
>>43513263
we won 5000 credits from the bike race didn't we?
>>
>>43508386
I'd take the Bespin Motors one.
>>
>>43514655
Perhaps he's on the listing what we have on us at the time in that section



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