Favors equal new bonds ...

The Spirit Nicole landed with little flair or commotion.  Landing bay robots swarmed to welcome the newest tenant.  Dust and heat combined in swirls as the hyperdrive settled down from entry.

Jax Star relaxed and stretched out in his chair.  Taking a deep breath and letting it out, he glanced over to his co-pilot Myles Stormryder.  Myles knew that look and smiled.

"Yes another easy landing by a excellent Captain ... " Myles sarcastically muttered.

"Jealous are we ?" Jax shot back.  "How about hitting the local watering hole and find some business ?"

The weather was hot and humid with a hue of red in the sky.  It was no secret of the supernova status of this doomed planet.  The only factor not known was when it would go supernova.  Walking out of the space port displayed the typical Imperial city design.  Blocks of buildings all similiar with no difference between them.  Myles pointed to the bar Imperial Pride.

"Good as any Boss."  Myles adjusted his belt.  "Besides, you owe me one."

"Sheeesh, one minor run in with some Hutts and you won't let it down." Jax muttered.

The two thirsty smugglers walked in to the bar and thru the weapons scanner.  One loud alarm produced Otto from behind the scanner computer terminal.  He reached out his hands and nodded. Myles looked to his Captain who in turn unholstered his weapon and handed it to Otto.  Myles did likewise.

The place seemed to have an average crowd.  The bar counter appeared to be available, with one bartender standing alone wiping down the bar.  Jax and Myles both sat down and pulled themselves to the bar.

"What can I get you boys ?" Rogan asked without looking up.

"Your most interesting and least expensive." Jax shot back.  Rogan broke out two shot glasses and filled them both with a red liquid.  Shortly after pouring the liquid, small storm clouds appeared above the drink with small yellow lightening shooting into the glass.

Without hestitating, both fringers took the shots and smiled.  Jax nodded over to Rogan and waved him over to the bar.  Rogan leaned in towards the fringers.  "What jobs may we find around here?"

Rogan glanced over the top of the fringers to make sure no unwanted eyes or ears were pointed in his direction.  "I got something in mind but its not time to speak of it.  Hang out till closing time and we can work out a contract."

Myles shot a look towards Jax.  Frowning but without missing a beat Jax leaned into the bar.  "Two more shots my friend.  All we got is time."

Favors cause adventure

Rogan heard a noise behind him and whirled around.  Phoenix was standing there watching the group.  She moved over to Rogan and nudged him to the side.

"I got this boss.  We all know a doctor you aren't." Phoenix muttered as she opened the first aid kit.

Rogan smiled and shook his head.  Phoenix was a friend of sorts that fell into the group.  She was a skilled medic and good with repairs of all sorts, droids and starships mainly.  He needed to get her off the planet.  Her skills were well wasted on this planet, in this bar and especially on this doomed planet.

"Get some rest Baxter.  We will work on your situation tomorrow morning.  Nothing we can do tonight with the Imperial curfew getting ready to start." Rogan frowned.  This was unwanted heat on a planet with enough problems.  Baxter was a harmless bystander in a scenario that is only going to get worse.  People were getting desperate and now it seems five more citizens would not have to worry about a supernova.

Tumbleweed down the street .....

     The Imperial Pride was busy as usual.  Many patrons were return customers and wandered in and out as time moved towards the Imperial curfew.  Otto was working the door.  At the door was the Imperial weapon scanner that was installed as part of Rogan's buisness contract.

Rogan was working the main bar and wiping the bar top.  Scanning the crowd produced no findings or trouble or new customers.  Some noise caught his attention to the front door.  The weapon scanner turned red and Otto was searching a new customer by hand.  Weaponless, the newcomer approached the bar.

"What can I get for you ?" Rogan asked as he tossed the bar rag to the side.

"Whiskey, any galaxy will do" the newcomer smirked.  Rogan reached for the first whiskey bottle he saw.  One whiskey glass and a shove to the newcomer proceeded.  The newcomer took the glass and slammed the shot.  "Refill please bud" Rogan poured again.  This time Rogan noticed that the newcomer's hand was shaking slightly.

"If your twitching about the weapon scanner calling the Imps here, no need to worry.  I have connections.  Your blaster isn't on a high priority list." Rogan glanced to see the response.

"Thanks.  It helps but that isn't a major concern."  The newcomer looked around and leaned in close.  "You have a backroom I can borrow?"

Rogan looked the man over.  "For what?"

"Some healing and to lay low" the newcomer open his jacket to expose a blaster wound.

Rogan looked around quickly for any Imperial presence.  "Sheeesh buddy, heavy request for someone I don't know.  Spill it ...."

The newcomer looked around.  "I just landed recently and was jumped by some space scum looking to hijack my ship.  Blasters were pulled and I gave my answer to their request."

Rogan smirked.  Wrong ship to mess with.  People are getting desperate.  "How many?"

"Five." Rogan scanned the room once again.  "Any Imps?"

"None.  Not that I could tell.  It seemed they had limited skills but had a look of fear about it all.  A look of despair."  Rogan knew what the unfortunate space jackers had on their mind.  Survival.

Otto shot a glance to Rogan.  Rogan waved it off knowing Otto was checking the situation.  "Can you make it five more minutes ? We close shop in 5 minutes."

The newcomer looked down at his wound and nodded.  "One more shot and I will have no problem."  Rogan smiled and whisked another shot his way.  The shot followed the other two.

Every day is something new.  Rogan knew this from his experience as a business man and being around the galaxy a couple of times.  The newcomer seemed legit for now.  Information is power and this might be a good investment.

Time off ... to ponder

Kirl looked up and saw the clock tick once more. It always seemed to go slower near the end of a shift. Another sip of coffee once again proved the Imperial Army's lack of good talent.

A hiss of the door and a moment later, his relief walked into the room. Oddly enough the relief had the same demeanor that Kirl had when he relieved the previous shift. Boredom and the dread of Imperial coffee.

"It's all yours Sarge." Kirl muttered to the relief sergeant.

"Thanks Major. Anything new to report ?"

"Nothing that we don't know already Sarge. Watch out ... coffee is stronger than usual today."

"Noted. Thanks for the warning sir."

Kirl walked out of the control room and gathered his things. Stepping outside, he noticed a strong wind. Odd, he thought since nothing really pointed out on the data terminals earlier. Shrugging his shoulders, Kirl strolled to his favorite waterhole on the planet, Imperial Pride.

Kirl had nothing to go home to. The barracks were like any other in the galaxy that the Imperial Army provided. Most troops in the barracks were as bored and depressed as he was. Denophan was not a prime choice for Imperial service. The dying planet was a hot bed of Imperial might squeezing what it could out of production before it went supernova. On top of that every citizen here was nervously attempting secured passage off planet before the time was to come. But again the average citizen didn't have an exact time. This allowed for many corrupt citizens to take hard earned money from those whom just wanted off the planet. Sad thing was Kirl knew that his own hide might not have a jump off the planet either. Imperial soldiers were not the major concern of the Empire when technology and resources valuable to the Galactic Civil War effort were planetside.

All along the street other citizens were coming or going to their destinations. One could tell the happy ones apart from the ones enroute to work. Kirl was one of the happy ones. At least he could bury himself in the Imperial Pride till the Imperial curfew made all head towards home. Kirl liked Rogan and Otto, his co-owner if you will. It was easy to sit and not worry about the present and talk about the future.

Kirl enter the bar and waved to Rogan. Rogan nodded and adjusted his brown leather apron. Kirl knew it was the hold out blaster that caused him to adjust. It was not Kirl's place to question it and he was definitely not the one to report it. Kirl pulled up a bar stool and sat down.

"Tough day Major ?" Rogan asked as he slid Kirl his usual.

"Nah ... just sitting and starring at computer terminals all day. You ?"

Rogan motioned towards the stage area of the bar. Kirl turned and noticed white grids throughout the bar. Strange, he thought but interesting enough to spark conversation.

"Looking for a new interior designer Rogan?" Kirl smirked.

"Imperials put this grid system in the other night after I closed for evening. It prevents more than 10 people gathering in one area. If it exceeds 10, the grid turns red. If I don't clear it up in 5 minutes the Imperial security patrol comes and does it for me." Rogan growled as he cleaned the bar top.

"Not surprising Rogan, sorry that once again you got the shaft."

"Not your fault pal. No hard feelings. How goes the doomsday ticker?" Rogan leaned in closer to hear. Otto waved as he walked by but kept his ear open as well.

Kirl looked around and moved in closer. "Not sure. The data is steady but it has not pointed to an exact date. You find a secure ticket off this rock yet ?"

Rogan shook his head. "Not yet boss. Not yet. In due time."

Kirl swung his bar stool around to get a better look at the bar. The evening crowd was just coming in to settle for some liquid courage. The grids still white as the numbers stayed within the allowed limit. Citizens would find a way around such security features, it was a matter of time. No matter how hard Imperials cracked down citizens still got around the rules.

Kirl sat and sipped his Corellian Thunder. Somehow he felt like he hit the bottom of a sarlac pit.

2nd Ed. Character Sheet ... Rogan Sadow

The following is the character sheet for Rogan Sadow using 2nd edition rules and rulebook ....

Name: Rogan Sadow

Template Type: Citizen of the Imperial Empire, Cantina Owner

Player: Author NPC

Species: Human

Sex: Male

Age: 33 Human years

Height: 5' 10

Weight: 185 lbs

Physical Description: Nothing spectacular as far as flashy clothes, although when working his brown leather apron is a usual piece of his attire. Although Imperial code does not allow citizens on Denophan to have blasters; Rogan has been in the business long enough to know better to be unarmed. Brown hair, brown eyes with no major physical characteristics. More of a thinker than man of action, Rogan will think and plan his actions instead of jumping into a situation blind.

Background: Rogan has been trying to develop a decent cantina for years. He has lost count of the numerous systems and planets he has set foot on. The Galactic Civil War has been a major drain on any attempts for a clean, decent cantina being run without the threat of damage or worse. His last cantina was aboard a freighter named No Hope. While in dock on a no named space station it was an Imperial Trades Agent, named Oyo Firme who recruited Rogan to the planet Denophan.

Personality: Open to conversation and loves a good discussion with anyone who will listen. Rogan loves to read and learn new things. He is quick to admit if he does not know the answer but will be the first one to dedicating himself to find the answer.

Objectives/Goals: To finally call a place home and settle down. Open to new things can be possible if things work to his way.

Quote: "I am not a smart man but I know that is not the smartest thing to do."

Skills

Dexterity: 2D

• Blasters: 2D+1
  
• Hold Out Blasters: 3D
  
• Dodge: 2D+2
  

Knowledge: 4D

• Alien Species: 4D+1
  
• Languages: 4D+2
  

Mechanical: 2D

Perception: 3D

• Bargain: 4D
  
• Con: 3D+1
  
• Forgery: 3D+1
  
• Investigation: 3D+1
  
• Persuasion: 3D+1
  

Strength: 3D

• Cantina Brawling: 4D
  

Technical: 3D

• Droid Programming: Service droids - 4D+1
  
• Droid Repair: Service droids - 4D+1
  

Movement per round:

Force Sensitive: No

Force Points: N/A

Dark Side Force Points: N/A

Character Points: None

Injuries: None

Special Abilities: None

Equipment:

Comm Link (Civilian)

• Personal Frequency Only
• Cost: 25 credits

Datapad

• Cost: 100 credits
  

Weapons:

Hold Out Blaster

• Model: Merr-Sonn Munitions Q2 Hold Out Blaster
• Skill: Blaster, Hold Out Blaster
• Ranges: 3-4/8/12
• Damage: 3D
• Ammo: (6)
• Cost: 275 (Power packs 25 credits a piece)

Knife

• Skill: Knife, Melee combat
• Difficulty: Very Easy
• Damage: STR+1D (maximum of 6D)
• Cost: 25 credits
  

Business as usual ...

Rogan looked up and realized that he was daydreaming once again. If it wasn't for the droid conductor checking on him he would have missed his stop.

"Don't forget your belongings. No pushing or shoving. Have a nice day." The conductor droid chimed at the passengers leaving the car. Not that anyone really listened to the droid's consent safety commands.

Rogan stepped out onto the train platform and looked around. Many different walks of life were coming and going to their daily assignments. Dock workers, computer specialist, miners and others all mingling into a citizen soup. An odd observation was that none of them were smiling or laughing. Imperial doctrine had everyone on a fairly scripted schedule. No time for fun or laughter.

Walking down main street, Rogan noticed a strong wind this morning. He could only guess at its reason but it was something he had no intention of pondering on. The spaceports near his bar seemed to have the normal traffic coming and going. "Good for business." Rogan smiled.

Imperial Pride was across the street from the space docks. Prime location for crews to rest and spend some hard earned credits. Two blocks over was the main shuttle train hub. Passengers didn't have to walk far for refreshment as well. Location was key to Rogan's business and he did get the choice of location. Imperials were decent about that part of the contract.

Swiping his data key Rogan walked inside and looked around. The bar went from pitch black to lights suddenly turning on in sequence and music starting to play. Whistling as he walked behind the bar Rogan smiled. It was nice to have the security sensors turn on lights and music as he entered. Imperial planet or not, safety was always important.

The small kitchen in back was humming with sanitation scrubbers and food processing. Otto was already at work once again. "Otto nevers sleeps in." Rogan muttered to himself.

Otto peered his head around the corner. "Hey Boss. Late night once again huh ?"

"Do you always think that I was up late Otto ?" Rogan moved swiftly to the coffee dispenser and hit the button for the large option.

"Nah. I know your always up late. You need to relax or get a hobby. This bar is not the only thing on this planet Boss." Otto chuckled and went back to getting the kitchen straight.

Rogan sipped a large gulp of sub par coffee. Otto was right. Bar owner was not a glorious path in the scheme of life. But what would he do? It wasn't like he was an academy type or scholar. He was happy to have something of his own even if the Imperials had a grip on it. Rogan walked to the stage area of the bar and cursed. White grids were throughout the bar, visible on the floor. Rogan turned back towards the kitchen. "Otto ! What did you do out here ?"

Otto peeked around the corner once again. "I did nothing. Those were here when I got in this morning. The bar data bank shows that Imperial customs stopped by and installed these loitering grids. Remember the restrictions regarding the number of citizens in a gathering? These grids glow white until that number is exceeded, then the grid turns red so you know that you need to break the fun up."

Rogan whistled. "Well, well. They think of everything. I wouldn't doubt these grids being linked to Imperial security." Looking up he smirked and could almost feel he was being watched. "Any cameras too Otto ?" Otto laughed. Rogan knew what he was thinking.

Well at least the Imperials didn't set his prices.

Sunrise this morning ....

Light was barely announcing its arrival when the alarm went off. Rogan Sadow reached over and smacked the snooze button with a quick tap. Rolling over he glimpsed at the clock and let out a groan. Morning seemed to be arriving earlier and earlier each day. "No rest for the weary" he thought to himself as he swung his legs over the edge of the bed and rubbing his head. Slowly raising himself to the bathroom was a chore to say the least. Stumbling over to the washing station he gazed into the mirror. "I need to get my act together or I will be long gone before 30." Well the cantina won't open itself and time was money, Rogan grabbed his keys and headed for the shuttle train.

Denophon was a strict planet. One would not visit for fun nor want to stay long. Imperial control was regimented just short of slavery. Strict guidelines controlled everything from work to entertainment. Every agent and Imperial military branch was present and only added to the hardships for anyone not included in the mighty Galactic Empire's realm of things.

Rogan walked up to the shuttle train stop and sat down. The shuttle train station was empty except for the Imperial Security patrols walking the decks looking for something to give reason to draw blasters. Citizens, a word not really giving truth to the situation, were kept on strict schedules. Schedules were posted on every infoboard at every station. A typical day would start at 0900 hours and end at 1800 hours. Free time was allowed at that time until 2300 hours. But even free time was observed with suspicion. Limits on how many could gather at one place at one time was limited to 10. To add to the frustration was the fact that Imperials were observing all at all times. Lucky for Rogan, he was the manager of Imperial Pride, local cantina. Sad thing Imperials were the only ones to give names to businesses. Fear of rebels recently have locked all down on this planet. The shuttle train arrived and hissed to a stop. Rogan entered and sat down in the first available seat. "Well at least the shuttle is always on time, thanks to the all mighty Emperor" Rogan thought to himself and let out a fake smile. Truth was Rogan didn't really have much to say good or bad about the Galactic Empire. They offered him the opportunity to run this cantina on this planet which was better than the spaceport he was working out of years ago. No start up cost and no money needed was the offer made so how could he pass it up ? Only catch was he didn't make the rules nor set the prices. Heck he didn't even have a say in the name of "his" establishment. The only thing that was guaranteed was the customers that were employed on this planet. The morning seemed promising, the sun was still in the sky.