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Jix

She checks and then checks again that she has all her gear. Then her compound eyes check to make sure no-one else has left anything. Satisfied, she slings her heavy blaster rifle over her back to leave both hands free for climbing.

She waits for 2BB-2 to ascent through the hatch and then starts the climb.

Jelly Bean

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As a common courtesy to a respected elder, Jelly Bean deferred until Preach had climbed up. Winta would be the last, just like Amos was the first. Everyone had a role. Preach was Preach, and an elder, and that meant something to Jelly Bean. She had lived most of her life without the customs of her people to give her comfort, peace, and stability in life. That was by design, no doubt.

There would be those above to offer him a hand should he need, which he probably didn't, and her and Winta below should he need a puch, which he probably didn't. But it was what it was and Jelly bean did what she deemed she needed to do... proper respect for the holy ones was something she had learned well by age six.

GM

Some reach out to the Force, Preach simply relaxes and lets himself be submerged in it.

There has been an awakening in the Force. Over a year ago now, but it can still be felt like a distant drum in the darkness. It comes and goes in intensity.

From Jakku's orbit, Preach senses very little life, having become attuned to the teeming jungles of Ajan Kloss.

In the Quadjumper above, a small huddle of life, a crew no bigger than the Resistance team.

The team don't need to use the Force to sense the tension. It's inherent in the situation.

As the team ascend they're greeted by a cool cab, bathed in amber light. The blowers are throbbing on full blast, some dripping condensate.

The interior of a Quadjumper is cramped. Fira Bon's crew have alleviated this by stripping out both crew bunks and passenger seats, and fitting handrails along the ceiling.

Standing room only, like a car on the Coruscant Subway. (The BB-unit might decide his ascension gear is still needed.)

Fira Bon is front and centre. A wiry woman in her sixties, wearing pieces of Republic armour about the same age. She stands straight. Square jaw, short white hair. Her face is deeply wrinkled from the Jakku sun, her eyes as alert as her shooting hand that cradles a bulky EL-16 blaster carbine.

Standing beside her are scruffy nomad, greasy hair and beard, shifty eyes and cybernetic attachment points on his cheeks and brow for binocs. A Bryar heavy blaster is strapped to his thigh and his fingers toy with the snap fastener.

In the pilot seat, another human, female, olive-skinned and younger than the other two. Head shaved down one side. She wears a patched-up flightsuit and jacket and is concentrated on the controls.

Finally, an old Abednedo steps forward humbly, his leathery bovine face covered in sun spots. Beads, robes, embroidered peci. A local priest. He goes to assist Preach up out of the hatch.

"Hah!" The Abednedo laughs in glad surprise when he recognises the man, "You're still alive, old friend!"

Preach might say the same about the Abednedo, a priest in the Church of the Force called Durm Bormo. Lor San Tekka was a mutual friend. Word was Bormo and San Tekka were both killed by the First Order when they razed Tuanul.

Fira Bon looks annoyed by this sudden bonhomie. She must not like surprises.

"Guess I better introduce the rest of us!" She says, "I'm Fira Bon, I call the shots.

"This is my scout, Tiras Or'un. He knows every hectare of the Goazon Badlands.

"In the flying seat is Mhar-li. Don't let that junkrunner look fool you, she was trained on Ord Mantell.

"And hell, seems you know Bormo already. Our local friendly."

Mhar-li pipes up without taking her eyes off the instruments.

"C'mon Fira, you forgot our ride! This kush-wagon is Sunstrider. No guns, no deflectors, no hyperdrive. No seats. But the landing gear works. Or at least it did this morning."

She sounds hassled rather than cocksure. Passed her, the curved horizon of Jakku looms larger through the canopy by the second.

[OOC: apologies if I get these wrong - let me know and I will edit ]

Winta

Winta waited as the others ascended and centred herself. She closed her eyes for a moment's meditation and reached out with the force for an air of calmneess and friendship on the ship.

She climbed up last, and shut the hatch behind her.

She listened to Fira Bon's introductions, then, from the back of the group she piped up, "I'm Winta Crynyd."


"The human at the front is 'Amos' - he does my 'other forms of negotiation' for me."

"The Twi'lek is 'Jelly Bean' - our pilot, come mechanic."

"The Verpine is 'Jix' - hopefully Jix will get us out of trouble if we get in too deep."

"Preach is 'Preach' - not dead yet, as Durm Bormo pointed out - though at times it is hard to tell."

"Lastly, 'Sirra' and our BB unit, 'Tubby', are our data slicers, amongst other things."

Preach

He straightened, though he moved well for an old man, it was clear he got stiff sitting in the meditation pose for so long. In two strides he had covered the short distance and scaled the ladder with ease. At the top he accepted the helping hand with a smile.

Entering the ship he got out of the way first, then he looked around next. He surveyed the surroundings with an appreciative eye. He had seen many different forms of transport throughout his years. He also stretched a little bit popping and cracking like an empty capped bottle in the sun.

"Old friend it has been long. It is good to see you alive Durm Bormo." He clasps the man close happy to see a friendly face among the crew.

Sirra

“‘Other things’ being getting into and out of places without being noticed. Tubby here is the better slicer. I’m better at being the means to get our little friend in the place where that skill can be put to best use.””

Winta

She gave a slight shrug. It wasn't the sort of information that Winta would have wanted everyone to know, and she had given Sirra an 'out' if she had wanted it. But she hadn't.
Winta filed away that information.

Bormo

The old Abednedo clings to the handrail as the ride starts to get bumpy.

He has one clear blue eye but the other is cloudy white, blinded by infection years ago. Medical facilities on Jakku are primitive.

"Lor is dead." He says to Preach, "The First Order killed him. The whole village. Incinerated.

"But I am glad you're back.... The final battle is coming, isn't it."

Preach

He looked at the old man. "The battle with evil never really ends. You know that as well as many. I am sorry to see Lor is gone. Too many have fallen to acts by the First Order." He considered as he readjusted against a particularly rough patch of turbulence. "Time will give us perspective on this battle but yes old friend I think things are coming to a head."

GM

Fira Bon nods at Winta's introductions, first skeptical but then more positively. There's something earnest about Winta that puts the veteran's mind at ease.

"Bek wasn't kidding when he said you'd be undercover. You'd fit in better at Niima Outpost than I do.

"But we're gonna go straight out to the Graveyard. The way I hear it, clock's ticking and all we'll get from Niima Outpost is grief from Unkar Plutt."

Fira Bon adjusts the sling on her carbine and lets it hang by her side. Her way of saying 'I guess you're alright'.

"Anyhow, good to know you, Winta; all of you." She says, adding, "We're here to help. So anything you need, you shout."

The nomad by her side, Tiras, glances sideways at his boss but follows her lead, satisfied enough to forget his blaster and cling to the overhead rail with both hands as a judder passes through the hull.

Mhar-li adjusts the angle on the repulsor vanes.

"We'll be there in a couple of minutes." She says.

Are there any questions you have of Fira Bon's crew before you make planetfall?

Jelly Bean

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Jelly Bean simply nodded at Winta's introduction. She had nothing to say. She had spent most of her life pretending her emotions, pretending her demeanor, and pretending she liked and loved everyone she met. She didn't, never did. Most of all she never like her slavers and the enforcers and anyone else associated with the Hutts. She never liked her 'guests' either. She didn't much care for most of the other girls and women she was kept with when not performing or serving the needs and whims of the Hutt that claimed he owned her.

More relevant to here and now, Jelly Bean had a deep seated anger for the First Order, on a personal level. But then again, those like her were the most common kind of recruit for the resistance so the Twi'leks personal reasons for joining were hardly worth discussing with anyone. Besides she didn't truly know or trust everyone in the Resistance either. Even more specifically, she was mostly ambivalent toward her team here. They were relatively new met to each other as it was and Jelly Bean wasn't the trusting sort. As for the Fira Bon and her crew, She had no reason to trust them at all and she certainly wasn't going to say anymore than what Winta had already revealed.

And so, a nod was sufficient for greeting these new peoples.

Jix

At the top of the ladder she is careful. This is the first place that things can go wrong so without looking directly at their latest acquaintance, she lets her compound eyes watch hands and fingers for any sign that things are likely to go south. Go south is a strange expression. She knows its meaning though Why south is a worse direction that any other eludes her.

Fortunately she is not claustrophobic. Living in the confined spaces existing within an asteroid gets, she was used to the close proximity of her own kind which she misses. However she is not a fan of falling prone in such an area so she reaches up for the rail and takes a tight grip.

Winta

"What's it going to be like when we land?" Winta asked Fira Bon. "Crowded? Deserted? And the scavengers we encounter - hostile or indifferent?"

2BB-2

The droid kept his own counsel, neither enlightening their temporary hosts nor seeking knowledge from them. The First Order weren’t above interrogation, and information they didn’t have, they couldn’t betray under the kinds of duress that were all too plausible with a Star Destroyer blockading.

Amos

"Also any lethal wildlife that we need to keep an eye out for? Always something." he said quietly.

Preach

He listened and remained quiet. While information was often gained by conversing the art of listening quietly was often missed. One learned a great deal just by letting others speak. He watched the others, not just the people who he was assigned to travel with, but also the people ferrying them to the surface. Hang on and wait were his two active pursuits, since to many listening was passive. Though to him, it was something he used actively too.

GM

"Lemme check the weather report..." says Mhar-li from her seat, obviously not checking, "Well, looks like it's gonna be dry and sunny all day folks!"

Fira Bon grunts at her pilot's sarcasm, before saying to Winta:

"The scavengers are nomads; they bring their families and homes with them. They'll outnumber us, sure, but they won't give us a problem. Bormo squared everything with them."

The Abednedo nods, smiling modestly.

Tiras hangs from the handrail, listening and adding:

"As long as we're out of the dunes by nightfall, we don't have any wildlife to worry about.

"At night though... I could tell you stories about Arconan night terrors big enough to eat a landspeed---"

"Some other time, Tiras. Get on the rear hatch and prep for touchdown." Interrupts Fira Bon.

"Yes boss."

Fira Bon watches the scruffy scout squeeze passed everyone, nearly kicking the BB-unit. Standing room only.

"What can I say, this is our first secret Resistance mission!" Explains the grey-haired woman with an apologetic shrug.

Through the cockpit canopy, you see the Quadjumper suddenly dip and bank. The gauges for the inertia dampners bounce in and out of the red and suddenly you're looking at clear blue sky.

***

A sand dune. The half-buried head of a protocol droid, in amongst metal scrap.

With a clunk, it's sucked out of the sand by a magnetic pole.

The pole is held by a short Teedo, wrapped against the desert sun and sitting on the back of a hulking, cybernetic luggabeast.

Chuckling and jabbering to itself, it drops the droid head into the net hanging from its saddle.

A loud whine of engines. The Teedo looks up.

The Sunstrider cruises overhead, still high but in descent, just shedding the last of the vapour trails from its repulsor vanes.

It passes over the Teedo who turns to watch the ship fade across white flats towards distant red-tinged dunes that shimmering in mirage. And on the horizon, the imposing wreck of an Imperial Star Destroyer.

[Go to CFH2: Welcome to Jakku.]