STAR WARS: RETROSPECTION- The Movement

"It is not them questioning our nature that worries me, it is them questioning our reasons for being there. As I said, in this day and age a Jedi doesn't lay low on the outer rim, let alone two of them..." He trails off as a new thought comes to mind.

"There is a third option. We could claim to be Jedi fleeing from the Order to escape their persecution for deeds better left unmentioned. It would allow us to report our lightsabers and break the contract with less complications being brought onto the Order and the Senate. I would not be very comfortable with it but the option is there."

"I don't think they're going to even want to hear that explanation... Considering their creed in this establishment. As long as they don't find the lightsabers here it should be fine. If we ever have to reveal our identities to them we can tell them we tell them we didn't want anyone to panic. "

"We just have to be careful, stick together and watch each others backs, if we do that nothing should go wrong," Wentar says in assurance, keeping the fact that he's unsure what he should be looking for to himself.

If there are no other objections he will sign the contract and await clearance for landing.

"Fleeing the Order" is something they could verify.

Just to confirm- Not reporting the lightsabers, yes?

Something just occurred to me actually... they wont know the owner of The Free Flier is a Jedi right? They don't have access to those records yeah?

We can say that won't be a concern.

Alright then! Not reporting the lightsabers it is and hope that's not a giant mistake on my part.

They shoot you out of the sky for Wentar's insolence and dishonesty!

...

Actually, they lift the target locks as soon as the contract is signed, and one of the interceptors escorts you down to the surface. The Free Flyer descends through the thick oily clouds that hang low over the planet, so the craggy surface nearly jumps out at Wentar as he descends. He jerks right to avoid a rocky spire; the interceptor follows easily, having expected it. It guides you down low, to increase visibility.

Looming out of the fog ahead of you is a massive cliff face. Your sensors, Emso reports, picks up the majority of the planet's life forms and energy use here. The Dead Man's Den is built into a narrow canyon that splits the cliff.

Cursed telepathic security!

"This looks bleak," Wentar says, observing the planets surface as he keeps the ship steady.

Is it built into the rock face or is it a settlement built in the bottom of the canyon?

"There's not much out there," Emso says. "I'm picking up some other communities, but mainly factories."

The Den is built into the rock face, though it appears to reach from the bottom of the canyon up to the top. You see a series of massive anti-starship batteries lining the rocky ground leading up toward the Den, but with the interceptor escorting you, they do not pivot toward the Free Flier.

Are there any other approaches other than the way we're being led in?

"The Den is probably the only reason people come here. Some, perhaps, start a new life here working in those factories... I can't imagine that being too pleasant though."

You could theoretically come in from any direction but through the planet itself. This is just the approach the interceptor is guiding you into. You aren't sure why.

"I'm sure we'll hear about it," Emso says. "I can't imagine it's fun."

The closer you come to the towering cliffs, the more you begin to see that a greater portion of the structures built into them are dedicated as docking bays of varying dimensions.

"Another target lock..." Emso reports.

"They're certainly cautious," Wentar replies. "I suppose they'd have to be all things considered."

Can we spot where the lock is coming from? How many docking bays are we talking here? Hundreds or thousands?

"Let's just hope they're not trigger happy..." replies Vlad as he observes the cliff/starport.

"We're definitely not going to want to cause any trouble or hostility here."

Hundreds of hangars; enough to house a small pirate fleet but not large enough a complex for the Shollese to immediately think of this place.

The target lock comes in from the Den itself.

"Please allow the tractor beam to guide your ship in," chimes in the interceptor pilot over the comm.

Wentar pings an acknowledgement and allows his ship to be guided in.

"That tractor beam is going to be a problem if we have to leave in a hurry," he muses out loud.

The Free Flier shudders as the tractor beam takes control and guides the ship toward the mass of hangar bays.

"Leaving in a hurry might not be an option," Emso says, less than pleased.

"Mmm, then we'll just have to act cautiously," Wentar replies grimly.

Does it look like we're getting our own bay?

It appears that you do. Which makes sense - hard to maintain a strict sense of privacy and no-questions-asked if everyone got lumped into shared hangars. The Free Flier slowly drifts into its designated docking bay, manipulated by a series of tractor beam generators that line the cliff face.

This whole process has been highly advanced, way more so than you would expect for something out in this area of space. You cannot imagine how they would handle a starfighter squadron suddenly coming in.

You land shortly, with the interceptor peeling off back to orbit. There is no welcoming committee; you imagine you've already gotten that in the way of the fighter escort and the holographic contract messaging. It strikes you as impersonal, but that's probably preferable.

In any case, you have reached the Dead Man's Den. At which point, Emso asks the all-important question.

"So... what do we do now?"

Here comes the hard part!

They have a bar, right?