
1.01: The Meeting
Game Session Date: May 29, 1999
Chronicle Day 1: 1 yr. Pre-ANH
Location: Lamuir IV, Gyle City Spaceport
Pyre sat in the ship’s lounge staring out the starboard portals, watching as hyperspace blurred by. It was almost maddening. Not staring out in to the bizarre dimension called hyperspace, but being on the ship owned by a man he has worked against in several deals. There was always something about Brendaron that bothered Pyre, and so in their past when they crossed paths, Pyre always felt he was obligated to compete with the ship-builder. Ignatious Pyre, Baron to House Caadrian, contract negotiator for the highest bidder, felt a certain rivalry with Jerik Cayl Brendaron, even though their paths had crossed only a few times. There was always rivalries between Barons within a house.
Baron Jerik Cayl Brendaron, business man for his own company, a house affiliated ship-building and modification enterprise, was always a tough dealer. His rivals within the House were many, but not quite as many as his allies. But Pyre thought that there was something about Brendaron’s motivations that bothered him. The fact they he flew around in this modified Imperial Customs Cruiser was enough to make anyone suspicious.
And the man didn’t even join them on this trip…
Of course, Pyre wasn’t much better with appearances. After all, he had his cousin, Sir Tarsus Jarnack from House Callipsa as his Body guard. Neither House was pleased with this arrangement, but the factions they represented were agreeable to it, and that’s all that mattered.
The political maneuvering for this trip was even a chore. They, along with several others, were secretly meeting with a Free-worlder that claimed to have something of interest to all parties; something related to House Pelagia. Barnes Sandos, the Free-worlder Trader and miner, had suddenly come across something fairly interesting to many parties and now was a popular man.
More popular than either Tarsus or Pyre liked.
Hours later, they watched as their ship, the Caadrian’s Hope, flag ship to the Interstellar Shipwrights Corporation, and a former Imperial Customs Cruiser, slowly banked underneath an Imperial Star Destroyer, the Gauntlet, as the ISD’s tractors pulled it into its docking bay.
Pyre knew this ship would draw too much attention for this trip.
Lonell Ogar, last in a long line of servants to House Caadrian and man-servant to Baron Brendaron, came to the lounge where Pyre was again, and announced an Imperial boarding party.
The Imperial entourage included several stormtroopers and 3 Imperial Officers.
“Are you sure you have never heard the name Barnes Sandos?” the ranking officer barked.
Pyre was now more concerned than ever about this deal. “No, sir, absolutely not. I am here for a simple business deal, involving my good friend, the noble Brendaron, and another party, nothing more.”
A stormtrooper reported to one of the minors officers, who in turn reported to the ranking officer. “The ship is clean, it checks out.”
“Very well. You will report to the local Imperial Authorities if you do see this man, won’t you? Like a good Imperial Citizen…?”
The Imperials left as quickly as they arrived, leaving the ship only slightly disheveled.
“You do realize they probably left a tracing device” Tarsus mumbled.
“Well, we just have to make sure we don’t do anywhere we’re not supposed to.” Pyre lit up a new cigarra.
****
The hanger was pristine and immaculate for a Herglic run world. However, this ship usually got the Imperial treatment even though it’s not in Imperial hands. Seems to be a subconscious reaction by everyone in this sector, which is probably why Brendaron acquired it.
Bay 19 was where they were told to dock. Bay 13 was where Sandos was supposed to have the meeting arranged. Pyre had already found out what Sandos had planned. He was a mercenary-trader, selling the information to the highest bidder.
He expected his old foe Gredarrian Sullumar to be there, as well. The Arcona was a sleazy pirate who would do anything to see any house noble suffer. Especially if it was Pyre or Brendaron.
They were greeted by a pudgy, pompous and rude Herglic “noble” named Rexilor, who was more than willing to tell everyone his full title. The problem was, anyone that’s anybody with the aristocracy of this sector knew that his Herglic noble trade house had been disbanded since the Empire took over. Of course, to Rex, that never happened. However, he was there as a servant to Barnes Sandos and was assigned to entertain them until his “partner” (Read: Employer) could arrive.
Along with Gredarrian, there was another in the group, apparently here to bid for the information Mr. Sandos had. He identified himself as simply Jo-Di, an information broker for Haggus the Hutt. This was particularly interesting because the Hutts had so little influence in this part of space, this close to the Core. Perhaps, they were vying for that influence now.
After some time, and some fun angering Gredarrian and his entourage of Gamorrean Guards, it became quite apparent that their host was not making a showing at this little party. Even Rex looked worried. A courier droid arrived late in the evening with a message. Now, Rex looked nervous.
Pyre, Tarsus, and the others approached the flatulent fellow, asking if there was a problem. After trying to meander around the truth with diplomacy, the Herglic revealed that their host, Barnes Sandos was missing.
This was an unexpected turn of events.
After some time formulating a plan, the Herglic contacted a few insiders to see if the could help find Sandos or his last whereabouts. He returned with a name.
Trel Modetto, a trader and freighter pilot was the last to see Sandos and know where he is. The information the Herglic gathered indicated the Modetto had just arrived.
They checked with the local port authority, who pointed them in the direction of Bay 10. There was something odd about the voice of the port authority employee, but no one asked any questions. They went on to Bay 10.
Upon arrival to Bay 10, Pyre was the first to notice the sounds of a physical altercation behind the closed bay doors. Pyre continued to walk on as did Tarsus, Lonell and Rex. However, when Jo-Di walked by it, he reached out and nonchalantly touched the door, then quickened his pace. He left a small disc behind. The others followed his lead.
In a flash, the doors opened, and Jo-Di was through the doors not long after that. His two blasters blazing as a group of thugs returned fire.
The others rolled their eyes.
In a short few seconds, and a brutal fight that only turned their way thanks to Jo-Di’s skill ( and brutality), the battle ended with a few of the thugs unconscious and the rest on the run. These thugs, before they were so rudely interrupted, were busy pummeling an individual they assumed was Trel Modetto. From the insignias on their jacket, the thugs were of House Mendaran, a minor house and ally to House Mecetti.
Jo-Di summarily took it upon himself to eliminate any further problems from the unconscious victims, and shot them dead.
Before questions could be asked, an alarm sounded, and they all were scrambling to get out of the now sealed landing bay. Open weapons fire in a public space port was not appreciated on many worlds, especially this one. The local authorities and more than likely, the local Imperials, were on their way.
Rex, as if this was a normal occurrence to him, acted quickly and lead the others through the port’s main waste disposal system. Through a winding set of tunnels and narrow hallways, and occasionally over wide pits full of refresher-waste, the finally came out in the city reservoir a few blocks away from the port.
Pyre was furious. Not only was the trade negotiation delayed, to say the least, but now they were wanted criminals, and the only person there that was obviously a criminal was Jo-Di. He peered at the man coldly.
They decided to split up and meet back at the ship.
*****
Pyre sat down with their new-comer after everyone (excluding Jo-Di, who was no where to be seen) met back at the ship.
“I am not Trel Modetto. I don’t know who told you I was. But I do appreciate the help.”
“Who are you?”
“I am Coros Telari, trader and pilot, and am on a mission for House Pelagia… I can’t much more than that. I do need your help finding someone, and in turn, I can help you find your contact.”
“No, you help us find our guy first, then we’ll see…” Pyre said with a hint of frustration.
“Of course… I was going to head to the Blow Hole, a local establishment of questionable repute. There, the owner, one Tulgoron Miff, should be able to help us find anyone…”
*****
In order to get to the Blow Hole, they had to dress down. They acquired commoner clothing, then made their way to the bar. On the way, they encountered a Mecetti lord and his entourage. Pyre was still scraping off the dung he was forced to kneel in.
The Blow Hole was exactly what they expected. It was a sleazy little tap-cafe in the more seedier part of Gyle. The music was Herglic punk-opera, so humans had to wear special ear protection to go in.
Inside, they saw a mixture of species, amazingly enough, all tolerating the music in their own way. The group; Lonell, Tarsus, Pyre, Rex, and Telari all fanned out. Rex found his way to the buffet, while Pyre, and Tarsus found the bar. Tulgoron Miff was unmistakable, a large Herglic that would give a Hutt a run for it’s credits. Telari disappeared into the crowd.
The big Herglic pointed them in the direction of a Rodian named Faras Gim. The Rodian sat in the bar not far from them, in a booth. He was talking with someone in a uniform… an Imperial uniform.
Rex, who had returned from the buffet with a full plate, laid a few credits on the bar, then mumbled… “I’ll handle this…”
Pyre’s grab at his collar was too late. The Noble Herglic proceeded to time his pass by the booth just as a auto-waiter was turning the corner. The buffet plate ended up all over the Imperial lap.
Pyre shrugged… “That’ll work…”
The Imperial was furious, as well as a little drunk.
Pyre approached the scene with a face of utter shock “Oh, sir, please forgive this scum’s insolence. He should be shot for his clumsiness.”
Wiping the spilled drinks from his tunic “It is quite alright, noble sir…” He apparently keyed in on Pyre proper speech “Herglics aren’t worth the blaster-gas anyway.” He kicked Rex who was still struggling with the flailing auto-waiter.
“Allow me to buy you a drink to apologize for the local’s mistake” Pyre said.
“Of course, but let me use the refresher to clean the rest of this off. Be right back.” He staggered off.
“Interesting way to get my attention” hissed the Rodian in accented Basic.
“We have a need you can fulfill. I will gladly pay you handsomely if you could point me in the direction of Trel Modetto…” Pyre flashed the Rodian several hundred credits.
“Modetto…? Modetto…?… The only person I can think of that might know is the Bar Tender of the Green Mist Tavern, Gotspar. But be prepared to pay for that information”
Pyre tossed the Rodian a few hundred credits, noting to charge it to Brendaron’s company somehow… business lunch, perhaps.
The Imperial had returned, still staggering drunk. Pyre purchased the Captain a drink, and continued to socialize for a few moments before leaving. He left with some very interesting information … about a Torpedo Sphere.
As the group moved to leave, Tarsus keen sense of smell picked up a all-too familiar odor of Gamorrean sweat. In the door stood Gredarrian Sullumar and several of his Gamorrean guards. They, of course, still had an interest in Barnes Sandos as well, and were probably following Pyre and his comrades as they searched for clues. Before they were spotted, Pyre and the others were able to slip out the back. As they made their way down an alley, Pyre made a quick comm into the local Imperial Garrison, dropping the Imperials Captain’s name, to call in a small complication for Sullumar.
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