|I assumed Nick had been dabbling in here somewhere.|
I was worried this might lead to chaos, with other players checking out mentally, or the GM forced to contend with insane and grandiose schemes *cough Dutch player cough*, or everybody weeping openly at the beauty of my American-inflected spoken word soliloquy. We could find ourselves facing human sacrifice, mobs in the street, the breakdown of our Hangout social order.
|This is actually worse than chaos, but it sums up my fears nicely.|
BUT INSTEAD! I really enjoyed the session, the First of its Name in 2015. I really dug it. Not sure where our GM got the idea; maybe it's right in the rule book, and maybe I could have asked him before I wrote this blog post, but damn it Jim I'm a blogger not a reporter.
We ended up with four solid story ideas to pursue, and gave our GM a good idea of the stories that especially interest us as players. For any GM, that is bubblin' crude! Oil that is, black gold, Texas tea.
|Coincidence that GM Nick and Santa share same first name?|
My character, Booster, is a Technician with a focus on Mechanics and Mercenary Soldier traits. So he's good with computers and he can upgrade your ship, but he's also handy with a knife and enjoys tossing grenades. He also has a fairly heavy addiction to Death Stick, which is fine as long as he doesn't run short on supply.
Anyhow I decided to investigate the fate of several young Jedi that we had found frozen in carbonite and turned over to the Rebel Alliance. They had since disappeared, along with any indication they had ever existed or had been found by us.
WHAT HAPPENED TO THE YOUNGLINGS?
Booster, deep in a drug-induced meditation of Pure Thought, comes up with these possibilities--
1) Rebel Alliance Command wants their existence covered up and forgotten, for their safety and/or the agenda of the Rebellion.
2) Agents of the Empire or Hutt syndicate intercepted them for purposes of Evil and/or Profit.
3) The younglings took off on their own, out of fear for their safety and possibly to continue their path as Jedi. Also to wear black t-shirts, hang with the wrong sort, meet loose girls and boys, listen to loud horn-based jazz.
I resolve to find out the truth, no matter how deep I have to dig.
After putting out feelers regarding my desire to access high-level computer records, I'm approached by my old friend Cuco Croan. Initial tension regarding my dating his sister many years ago is soon forgotten over Trilobactite Imperial Stouts, and he agrees to help a brother out in exchange for smoky treats of the Death kind.
Cuco gets me 15 minutes access to a Data Recovery Station, where I go to work like Wolverine in Swordfish while Corellian-Hard Trance-Wookie Dubstep plays in the background. I look for the information surrounding the information that, while gone, I knew was there at some point. I am brilliant, and find out:
1) The ships involved did exist and were involved, I'm not going crazy.
2) There is no mention of rescued younglings anywhere.
3) Changes to the data records all occurred within the Rebel Alliance.
4) Personnel changes were tracked, but records modified. Pay records indicate a janitor was assigned to a transport ship, but then he simply disappears. The pay records point to a planetary system I've never heard of, called...Dagobah.
I have resolved to find out all I can about Dagobah, and to go there in search of the younglings.