The game opens with the poor transcriber being told to suck a dick! And also with the others hoping that his laptop fails and broadcasts that command across the Metro! The PCs, meanwhile, seek to sell their ill-gotten gains, blasters and vibrokives, and spend a moment considering where to go. They end up whipping around the planet into the large city and an open market on the other side.

Zareq: I’m Commander Shepherd and this is my favorite store on the Citadel.
DM: Your few options include a large bulky freighter, that out front is manned by a protocol droid. There’s a rather sketchy human with a fanTABulous mustache over there, and off to one side a guy that looks vaguely like a Mon Calamari.
Bremen: Vaguely.
DM: Not quite the same, but that’s what you’d think he was if you looked at him. But if you take a closer look he has a little more of a narrow and droopy-tentacles thing going on.
Bremen: So he’s Aqualish – no, that’s the wrong species.
DM: You don’t what he is. I’ll tell you right now, stop trying to put species to every NPC I make because it’s futile.

Despite this, they discuss the races for a while. The DM just sighs.

Zareq: We bring our blasters up – “THIS IS CRAP!”
Kon: Who do we want to walk up to first?
Bremen: The mustache man I don’t know. The protocol droid is probably going to be, “These are the prices, take them or leave them.” The mustache man will probably be way overpriced and the Quarran will have rock-bottom prices but it’s all stolen merchandise.
DM: Is this in-character? You should talk in-character.
Bremen: I guess my character wouldn’t know any of that.
Zareq: My character’s a racist troll!
Bremen: Disregard everything I just said. I say use the Force. ‘The Force doesn’t work that way!’ I say follow your instincts.
DM: Follow your nose!
Bremen: We buy blasters from Toucan Sam.
Kon: Whichever’s the closest to us, we approach them first.]
DM: You approach the protocol droid. As you approach, he reaches out, seizes the cloth that lays over the table in front of him, and very slowly moves it aside.
Kon: ‘Dead humans here, getcha dead humans!’
DM: “The finest arms and armor that you are going to find this side of the core!” He’s waving a hand over a collection of blaster pistols, vibroknives, you see a sword not unlike your own make that you no longer carry around because fuck that, you’ve got a lightsaber now.

They give a blaster to the droid for analysis, and as they ramble about trash drops the droid examines it, sights along it, then fires it into the air repeatedly.

Bremen: It’s shooting blasters in the market.
Kon: And it’s over.
Zareq: Initiative! Quick, grab the stuff!
DM: The droid does in fact point it up into the air and fire off several shots.
Zarshaan: I’m on the ground.
Bremen: Is this – I’m sure the other merchants are used to this sort of thing.
Kon: I kinda feel like he’s going to do that and there’s just a ship taking off…
DM: ‘My kill. My experience.’
Kon: He kills something, like a ship… well, I guess for a player to shoot down a ship that’s 500 experience. We just watch him go from an android to a military-style super robot.
DM: The other couple of merchants and the passers-by give him dirty looks as apparently this is common.

The droid offers them 500 credits for each carbine and 75 for each knife, though they worry about how the droid will test the knives. Kon whips out his Negotiate skill, with Zarshaan assisting. He rolls quite well and manages to haggle the droid to 750 each plus some stimpacks.

Kon: “An excellent deal sir.”
DM: (miming shaking Kon’s hand with robotic noises. And miming. And miming.)
Kon: “Much appreciated. I – I will now stop.”

They make bank, and the next several minutes are spent shopping from the local merchants. This may be spillover from 5E where money as everyone knows is useless.

DM: For the record, it’s not space rope, it’s synth-rope.

The players discover the Encumbrance rules in SWRPG, and laboriously slow-step their purchases back to their ship Skyrim-style.

Zareq: I’m gonna grab a replica organ, just in case.
Bremen: Oh, you’ve got a synthetic organ?
Zareq: I’m just gonna have on the side. Just in case. Maybe a kidney.
Kon: Concealing robes can go over anything?
DM: They aren’t intended to stack.
Kon: I can’t Ultima Online this shit and wear plate armor…
DM: You can if people can pickpocket it directly off your chest. I’ll make you that deal.

A long discussion about female plate armor in UO erupts. They load up on stimpacks and tool kits!

Kon: I am little annoyed at our cats. I always wanted a cat that would jump on the table while we were playing, be like, ‘Oh no, why did you do that? No!’ And we get temporarily annoyed and the cat would be cute and flop on the battlefield, and then it’d go away and we’d reset and it’d be over. But it hasn’t happened yet. None of them are that fun.
Zareq: All right, let’s get out of here. (Jetsons vehicle takeoff noise)
DM: As you head back to your ship, you hear the firing of the blaster bolts behind you.
Zareq: Is it him, or is someone shooting at us?
DM: “RIFLES!” Pew! Pew! “RIFLES!” Pew! Pewpew! You board your ship – bingbong bingbong bingbong bingbong.
Zareq: “Doing a good job, Bing-Bong.”
Bremen: ‘Here, carry my synthetic organ.’
Kon: I have a feeling that Bing-Bong here is gonna betray us later. I have feeling that he’s a big recording device and we don’t even know it yet.
Zarshaan: (indicating the DM) Look at that big shit-eating grin on his face…
Zareq: We’re just giving him ideas…

They head offworld and a long debate about astrogation checks and the cost of astromech droids arises, as the DM obstinately tries to wrangle them back on course. Everyone, it turns out, has a 2 in Intelligence. They come up with 1 threat and 3 successes.

Kon: You jump out… right in front of an enemy star destroyer. THAT’S NOT A 1 THREAT! NAAAAGH!
Zareq: We come out of our jump and the fucking Sith droid… (miming it impacting the windshield) “I fooooound yoooou!”
DM:’I’ve been floating in space for days waiting for this moment!’

A three day trip passes, and they emerge in the Wendrick system, heading for a swamp planet. They immediately believe this planet to be Barack’s kingdom, Hope’s Demise. The DM calls for a sensor check!

DM: At the very absolute limit of your sensor range, your computer records—
Kon: ‘Sir! Friends! I’m jammed!’
Bremen: We’ve detected bleeps, sweeps, and creeps.
Zareq: The what, the what, and the what?
DM: The only reason you what this is is because identification is already programmed into your computer. A Victory-class star destroyer, at the utmost edges of the system.
Bremen: Oh fuck.
Kon: STOP THE SHIP!
Bremen: Not at the planet.
DM: No, it’s not in orbit.
Zareq: I press the space-brakes.
DM: You shit space-bricks.
Bremen: This is Imperial space though, isn’t it?
DM: It’s a grey area.
Zareq: Open fire!

The DM explains that the system is nominally Imperial, then calls for Knowledge (Outer Rum). A long debate on the use and ownership of Victory-classes erupts, because enough of the players are nerdy about Star Wars for this to keep happening. The DM clarifies that the ship appears to be doing little, prompting Kon to scan and monitor it to identify what it’s up to. It seems to be doing very little!

Bremen: We’ve changed the transponder signal on this vessel.
DM: And ripped out the backup one that was probably tracing you!
Kon: I’M TELLING YOU MAN, THAT BEEP-BOOP BACK THERE!
DM: (like an SOS) Bingbingbing bong bong bong bingbingbing!
Kon: Bing-Bong and his ways! Actually I’m listening to the bingbongs, is there a pattern there?!
DM and Zareq: Yeah, there’s a pattern, it’s called ‘bingbong bingbong bingbong bingbong’.

Bremen applauds as the DM and Zareq fist-bump, and this seems to put an end to Kon’s paranoia. Though not the jokes.

Kon: Is that the universal SOS for Jedis? Bingbong bingbong bingbong!
DM: ‘What’s that droid doing?’ ‘It’s Darude Bingbong.”
Zareq: MARTHA!
Kon: It’s the name of Anakin’s mother. ‘Did you say Martha?!’
DM: It was also the name of Padme’s mother.
Kon: It was the most popular name!

No one can make a Knowledge (Outer Rim) roll. They debate amongst themselves which of the three spaceport cities they vanish, though Kon settles into use Foresee. Darkness comes from the first, emptiness from the second, and no unusual reading from the largest.

DM: The north city is Blusk, the largets city is Warick, and the one that seemed oddly lifeless to your senses is Glob.
Kon: The light is telling us where the darkness is, where we should root it out.

The group begins discussing their ship’s name, mostly assuming that they have a generic one now after changing their transponder out.

DM: They’re old codes, but they check out.
Kon: I’m so happy real life doesn’t work that way! ‘Just use your old password, it’ll be fine.’ That’s what your computer tells you. I feel like somebody back there is like, ‘It’s an old code, I’m gonna let him through.’
Zareq: ‘Someone fire that man!’

Worried that they’re going to the wrong city, they question if they can get transport between them easily. The DM points out they don’t know but could probably arrange something.

Zareq: Can’t I just have the knowledge of transports on other planets?
DM: But every one’s so different. If you went to Naboo, would you realize you could go through the goddamn planet core? No you wouldn’t!
Zareq: I wouldn’t be going with the Gungans anyway.
DM: ‘That’s what you think! Yousa descendant of Jar-Jar. Surprised? Meesa think you are.’
Zareq: (mimes a lightsaber gutting)

They head down, crash, and the game is over. Or rather, they descend down into the pounding rain lurking beneath the cloud cover.

Zareq: ‘Ah, fuck this!’ (miming pulling back on the control stick)

They refuse to fight Zareq for control of the stick, and the DM waits patiently until he admits he was kidding.

DM: As you descend, your communications crackle as you are hailed. “17 times, what’s your quick-pick, fix?”
Kon: “Looking for a landing. A place to drop this vessel.”
Bremen: Is that… is that Space Thieves’ Cant?
Zareq: Pretty much.
DM: Space-burglar my nurglar, space-shurglar.
Zareq: ‘And pin a rose on it.’
Kon: ‘And pin a tail on that space-donkey.’
DM: “Landing platform 66.”
Zareq: That’s 99 upside-down!
Kon: “Thank you.”
Bremen: Uh-oh. ‘Thank you’ is code for ‘your mother is a hamster.’
DM: The automatic landing sequence engages as you get the pattern from the communications array and your spaceship descends, dropping onto a large metal platform out in the center of many others like it.
Zareq: Why is there three troops of Stormtroopers down there?
Kon: They’re just doing a standard three-troops-on-your-ship Jedi check. Very standard in this city. ‘Are you a Jedi?’ ‘No.’ ‘All right guys, check over! They’re not Jedi. They wouldn’t lie to us.’
Bremen: Door’s locked, move on to the next one.
DM: As you step out onto this miserable, wet, humid rain, it’s almost like swimming through the air. Down at the bottom of your ramp is one of the large species of this planet. Looks sort of like a frog and sort of like slug, wearing no clothing but a loincloth, and the water is just rolling off and down his body, making him look downright comfortable.
Zareq: “Beautiful weather we’re having today.”
DM: “Oh, most beautiful indeed. I’m here to collect your docking fee.”
Zareq: “How much is the fee?”
DM: “One hundred fifty.”
Zareq: “I have it right—“ (miming igniting his lightsaber) No, I’m kidding.
Kon: How do you pay credits? I don’t think they showed—
DM: Yes.
Zareq: It’s probably like a stick.
DM: The answer is always yes.
Zareq: It’s probably like a space credit card.

Bremen suggests they negotiate, and Kon leaps at the chance. He quickly rolls, prompting Zareq to say ‘oh no’ despite not even knowing what he rolled. Kon comes up with no successes but four Advantage.

Kon: I did get him to wash the ship and give it a tune-up.
DM: You attempt to haggle him down, but he remains firm on the price, states it’s absolutely set by the government, there’s no wiggle-room and so forth. Just as you’re about to hand over the credits you notice out of the corner of your eye a man approaching down the platform that leads to the walkway, this one actually wearing what looks to be a sort of uniform.
Bremen: We’ve been swindled! We gave hunnerd gold to the bridge trolls!
Kon: “Hoooold on a second, sir. Perhaps that person in the official uniform has something to say. Ah, SIR!”
DM: He glances over, and then makes a grab for it! Trying to swipe the money!
Zareq: I’m gonna judo-kick his ass.
Kon: No! I – don’t know what to do. Do something.
Bremen: I’ll Force-pull his loincloth off! That’ll distract him!

They debate the value of Move, but the thief snatches the money and bolts for the edge of the platform. Kon calls for the officer, and Zareq tries to Force snatch it back but refuses to dig into the Dark Side to do so. Bremen lunges forward to seize him, but the creature ducks beneath his kick. Zarshaan steps up and manages to roll neither successes nor failures, but burns her plethora of advantage to force the thief to drop their credits.

DM: You charge forward and fling yourself at him. You miss narrowly but your flailing hand slaps the money out of his hand. It drops to the platform. He shrieks and leaps off the edge, down to the water below. You see the guard pointing a slugthrower pistol in your direction, but seeing the guy escape, he quickly lifts it up. “Ohhh.”

This disappointed noise cracks the whole group up.

DM: “That’s no good.”
Bremen: It’s like those weird zombies in Code Veronica. I bet he’s here to collect the actual fee, which is like, five hundred.
DM: “I am here to collect your fee, but I’m terribly sorry that this criminal attempted to swindle you. The fee is 150. We will register you. You may remain docked here up to one week.

The transcriber is horrified to discover the voice for this NPC is very hard to make out on the recording, but the guard offers them tout services. Realizing they aren’t certain where to go, they ask his advice and the guard obligingly leads them off to the edge of the platform while he places a commlink call.

Kon: Is he the same race as the one guy?
DM: Yes.
Bremen: He’s just wearing clothes.
DM: He’s wearing a uniform.
Bremen: He’s wearing a loincloth with a badge on it.

Kon imagines the classic rogue-stealing-from-ogre Warcraft joke. The group heads down stairs to a find a large creature midway between a crocodile and a guppy, with a driver waving.

DM: “I hear you need a transport!”
Zareq: This is the most jowliest planet I’ve ever been to. (A pause) ‘What was that, sir?!’ ‘I said the jolliest!’
Kon: ‘Don’t mind our species.’
DM: “This is Savan. He will take excellent care of you.”
Zareq: Sarin gas? What?
DM: “No, Savan. Savan.” “Yes! Savan is my name! It is a pleasure to meet you all!”
Bremen: This dessert is making me thing of the denizens of this planet. The way they talk is wobbly, I bet the way they walk is wobbly… The way they steal is wobbly.
Kon: ‘Our native tongue, we call it ‘Diabeetus’.’
DM: They’re not walruses, you guys.
Bremen: The race of Brimley.
DM: You step down onto the massive creature.
Kon: (apropos of nothing) Cobra Kai or die.
DM: Although you notice the officer as you pass subtly going… (rubbing his fingers together)
Zareq: We’re supposed to tip him?
Kon: He wants something.
Bremen: ‘Here’s a stimpak.’
DM: ‘Ahh, thank God, my cancer is cured!’
Bremen: Here’s a blaster carbine.
Kon: I slip him 50 credits. “Thank you, sir.”
DM: “It was my pleasure.” You notice out of the corner of your eye he makes a little signal to the guy down on the creature as you board.

Their exuberant cabby bids them climb into the strapped-on seats, and sets them off in search of lodging. Their guide continues to pump them for information to hook them up.

Bremen: “What sort of people could you put us in touch with?”
DM: “Ah, that depends on what you’re looking for.”
Zareq: ‘Prosititutes—NO WAIT NO SORRY!’
DM: ‘Oh, tons of those.’
Zareq: ‘Any actual humanoid? Solid humanoid?’
DM: ‘Well excuse me, Mr. Picky.’
Zareq: ‘You’re right, you’re right, we should be more open-minded. My bad.’
DM: ‘I don’t understand why you’re not ejaculating on her eggs. She laid them for you and everyth—come on, man!’
Kon: ‘I don’t think he quite understands the service you’re providing him…’
Bremen: “What sort of people live in this city who aren’t native to this planet?”
DM: “Mmm, to be fair, we have a strong community of people who like to transport goods and services.”
Bremen: “Understood.” I’m not gonna say anything.
DM: Bremen’s out.
Bremen: If they heard it, they understand.
Kon: (not paying attention) It’s that moment in Final Fantasy when you replace Rydia with Golbez and realize there’s a problem.

Bremen ponders what exactly they are looking for, while their guide hints that he can hook them up.

DM: “Start with me and I’ll give you reasonable prices.”
Zareq: (miming igniting his lightsaber) ‘Whoops!’
Bremen: Wrong pocket.
Kon: I like the idea of being, “Here you go.” (handing over an object, then making a thermal detonator noise)
Zareq: We’re running the opposite direction.
DM: It’s a swamp, you can’t run!
Kon: Oh no! Is this planet like the planet from Battlefield: Earth? The whole planet is just a big methane ball! It just explodes the fuck up! This planet is one thermal detonator away from discussion. The campaign ends, we’re flying off, the planet explodes. Conflict points acquired!
Bremen: You are now a Sith Lord. What’s happened to Kon’s eyes?
DM: Buffer underflow. Morality 255.
Zareq: “Is there any kind of grand… undesireableness around the capital?”
DM: “We desire everything that comes to us! You mean around our capital… capital capital? I don’t know much about what goes on there.”
Zareq: “In capitals there’s always greed and power-hungry people.”
DM: “Truth is that’s what this here city’s for. Blusk. We’ve got a name for ourselves. We’re proud of it!”
Bremen: “What about the third city?”
DM: “Eh, Glob. It’s new. I’ve been there once. It’s a hollow place. Doesn’t seem to have any heart. Like all that was interested was money when they were putting it up. You can’t make a city like that and have it… breathe. Have it flow. You see what I’m saying?”

Everyone responds with their hearty take on OOOH YEAH, for reasons that are unclear. The DM remains angry that he can’t find 10 hours of Gloop and Gleep from the Herculoids on YouTube.

Bremen: The smuggler’s going to be a rhinoceros that shoots rocks out of its horn…
Zareq: There’s also a gorilla thing/.

Bremen subtly seeks the location of the black market, to which their guide says they need an invitation, and offer to put them in touch with someone who can get them one – for a fee. This also marks the first time the DM uses the species’ signature laugh, which starts off normal and turns into throwing his head back and croaking deep in his throat.

Kon: Should I be scanning everything? Is our scanner – is there like a Pokemon?
Bremen: You turn it on, it’s gonna be like Egon’s PKE Meter when there was a big baddie around.
Kon: Should I be scanning every person we find so we learn stuff?
Bremen: Uh-oh, he’s going to start throwing balls at everyone.
Zarshaan: (fires up Pokemon Go)
DM: Stop that. Put your phones away and play, guys.
Zareq: I am playing.
DM: Play Star Wars!
Zareq: There’s not a picture of Grape Ape. I’m so disappointed.
Zarshaan: (busy catching a Weedle)

Kon throws out a Negotiation and rolls incredibly. They discover that both their mothers are named Martha and bond over this till Savan give them an invitation.

DM: “I suppose I can’t win them all.”
Kon: “You’re a good one.”
DM: “You’re just lucky I made so much profit off that Devaronian fellow.”
Kon: “Devaronian fellow? Good guy?”
DM: “FOOOOL! Ha ha!” (croaking)
Zareq: Dead. Huh?
Bremen: The DM’s choking. ‘911, what is your emergency?’ (croaking into the phone)
Zareq: ‘Are you gargling balls over there?’

The group debates their course from here, as a low rumble fills the air. They look up just in time to see a large ship breach the clouds.

Zarshaan: It’s the Star Destroyer.
DM: It’s not the Star Destroyer, it’s not THAT larger.
Bremen: You said the rumbling was filling the air. What kind of ship is it, or do any of us know?
Zareq: The HMS Disaster.
Bremen: Uh-oh, about to cause a paradox!

The characters from the first Birthright game appear out of a portal for no reason, as Savan notes the Empire rarely drops here. A large debate over what ship this actually is, lorewise, erupts. The DM describes it as sort of like taking the legs off a really-big AT-AT. Savan says they’ll be going nowhere near it and offers to keep them appraised.

Zareq: “Here’s my commlink number.”
Kon: No, don’t do that! Two adventures later… Boop-boop! ‘Hello?’ ‘I heard you like big dicks!’
Zareq: Don’t you sell my name, you asshole!
DM: ‘Zareq, my cousin, let’s go bowling!’

Savan pulls the creature to a ladder and begins to climb it, and they head up after him. He sends them to a building shaped like a tree.

DM: “That’s the place you want to be.”
Zareq: “Thank you.”
DM: “The Vine Lodge. Lodging for you offworld people.”
Bremen: Ha, offworld people. “You gonna wait here for us?” He’s supposed to take us to the other place.
DM: “I said I’d get you an invite. I’d be happy to wait if my time was… compensated.”

EVERYONE starts laughing, then croaking.

DM: “I like you folks.”
Zareq: I’m gonna kick him off the platform.
Kon: If we were a Dark Side campaign… just riding away, ba-boom!

Everyone starts laughing in various ways and they imagine the annihilation of multiple cities gleefully.

Kon: ‘Looks like you’re going to need to construct some… additional pylons.’
DM: “Well, am I on… retainer?”
Zareq: “How much is it gonna cost?”
DM: “How long are you gonna be?”
Zareq: “We’ll just commlink you later.”
Zarshaan: I just give him eyes.
DM: “Mmm, all right. There’s the little matter of my transport fee.”
Zareq: “I thought that was pro bono.”

Everyone starts laughing, and Zareq agrees to pay.

Bremen: This is the jolliest race of swindlers ever…
DM: I toldja, I was giving you more of a social challenge.

They imagine their missing player here, and the subsequent wrestling with droids for blasters they’d still be doing. Their guide jumps back down, leaving them with the decision to go to the Vine or go elsewhere. Kon spends a lengthy amount of time entertaining the group with the 8-bit Cantina music he imagines the lodge must have.

DM: What are you gonna do?
Kon: Punish that guy for his terrible music!
DM: Initiative, I guess….
Kon: There’s a line for that I’m sure.
DM: In you head. The bottom floor of this place is basically a hookah bar.
Zarshaan: All right!
DM: The lights are dim. It’s pleasantly dry in here and there are all sorts of colored smoke drifting through the air. Numerous of this planet’s people as well as other more humanoid people sit around and take puffs off of the long tubes that lead to massive jugs. Eyes glance up at you, but no one seems in a particular hurry to cause trouble, because that’s some damn good hookah.
Zareq: Opiates? I’m off to the opiate bar!

They meet a female of the species – less round, taller, and with eyes on stalks. She greets them and offers them a sample of an excellent worm mix-in. The group goes dead silent in horror, lasting a long minute until the DM bursts into IC laughter.

DM: “Ah, it never fails! I don’t think you came here to smoke worms.”
Zareq: “….No.” Crossing it off my bucket-list here.
Zarshaan: “No, we were referred her for lodging.”
DM: “Oh, referred byyyyy…?”
Zareq: Grumpadump. I don’t remember his fucking name. Nor Saran. Salan?
DM: “Ah, that makes things different. How many rooms?” She looks at you, speculatively eyeing which of you might be sleeping with the other so she can decide how to partition this.
Zareq: “You got bunk beds?”
DM: “They’re not very called for…”
Zareq: Is this like Earth hotels? Two beds in a room sometimes? Pull out sofa? I’m sorry, pull out space-sofa?
DM: “I’ll give you the ones that don’t have ponds in them, I assume you prefer that.”
Kon: I can’t get over that. We’d like one with space beds… space… space.
DM: All right, she gives you ones in space, you die.
Bremen: Hello darkness, my old friend…
DM: You’re able to easily negotiate for a pair of rooms.
Kon: “How much for the two rooms, sir?’
Zareq: Ma’am.
Zarshaan: Ma’am.
Bremen: Ma’am.
DM: Setback die!
Kon: I have a skill for that.
DM: A skill that lets you call people the wrong gender and get away with it.

After some banter, she pauses to answer her commlink. They anticipate A TRAP! She gives the group a speculative look as she talks, while Kon tries to figure out where the rooms are.

DM: She comes back over, leans on the counter. “So, tell me if you’re going to be staying here… what all did you do to get on the Emperor’s bad side?”
Zareq: “We took somethin’.”
DM: “Interesting. Normally people who take things don’t get THIS kind of attention.”
Zareq: “Pretty big thing? We’ll just leave it at that. I take it this is a safe place to stay for the Empire?”
Bremen: Just lock the door, they’ll go away.
DM: “I’m not going to turn you in, I’d need there to be profit in it.”
Kon: The TV turns on. ‘We’re looking for these four people, 220,000 credits.’
Zareq: Each.
Kon: Holy fuck!
Bremen: I’d turn me in for that money!
DM: “I’m going to make you a deal if you’re interested in taking it.”
Zareq: “What’s this deal, aaand why are we taking it?”
DM: “You want your ship back, don’t you?”
Zareq: What, did they take our ship!?
Kon: I figured they’d take our ship!
Zareq: Look, we stole that thing fair and square… but I’m more pissed about losing Bing-Bong, guys!
Kon: My toolkit and medipac I bought are on that thing!
DM: “You give me 200 credits and I’ll make sure that my people see that you can get back on it. I’ll even throw in the droid. BUT NOT LITERALLY!” (laughing, then croaking)
Kon: Yeah. Ha ha. Yeah.
DM: How do you have ‘Kill With Kindness’, you asshole?!

They contemplate murdering with a salt cube, but Zarshaan pays her instead. She tells them to extend their offer to their friend, the Devaronian who got here before them. MALEFAX, as far as anyone knows, is also staying here!

Zareq: Is that coincidence?
Bremen: No! That’s service!

Bremen takes a while to remember who the Davaronian NPC actually is. Zareq can’t believe it’s Malefax.

Zareq: Why would he be staying in a hotel room? That doesn’t seem like his style. I just feel like he would buy a penthouse for some stupid reason.
Bremen: But he’s not working with the Empire. If Vader found out about him, he’d probably fly out to where he is and crush him. He might be just as much of a fugitive as we are. Oh god, we’re going to have to work together with him!
DM: And you’ll be handcuffed together. Let’s just complete it. For some reason you’ll be escaping, your handcuffed together.
Zareq: It’s me and Bremen, we’re handcuffed to him, and he dies. And we gotta use the whole Weekend at Bernie’s thing.
DM: Wow, what a weird combination of tropes.
Bremen: Did she offer us her name?
DM: No.
Bremen: “Good lady, just to make sure—“
Zareq: ‘I’m no lady!’
DM: ‘But you were a lady just a moment ago—‘ ‘We CHANGE. Didn’t you know that?’

Kon rails about nonbinary gender identities. Bremen describes Malefax for confirmation, but she says he looks like every other Devaronian. Now the group is confused as to what kind of race Malefax was. It turns out he was wearing a poncho! …the conversation just starts getting weirder.

DM: “If you want ponchos I can get them for you.”
Zareq: It’s gonna cost you a Light Point!

The group refuses to spend Light Side points out of the Destiny Pool, convinced that the DM will immediately spend them to destroy the planet. Kon worries that Malefax’s nearness will spoil all his effort at using the Force.

Zareq: “What’s your name?”
DM: …I’m the DM, Zareq, we’ve been friends for—
Zareq: I knew you were going to do that.
DM: “You can call me Kraaax.”
Zareq: All right, enlongated Os. Or As.
DM: “Kraaaaaax. With an Aaaaaaaa.”

They establish once and for all that the rooms are upstairs on the right, and proceed that way – wary for any encounter with the dreaded MALEFAX.

Zareq: I just imagine we go up there, and he’s got his ice bucket going to the machine. “Uh-oh!” That’d be fantastic – in his bathrobe. Toothbrush sticking out of his mouth.

Their imaginations grow increasingly sitcommish as they head into the room. Kon quickly settles in to meditate, while the others raid the free coffee.

DM: Sounds like a child’s voice.
Bremen: In our room?
Kon: Where’s the sound coming from?
DM: THE FORCE!
Kon: (exasperated sigh) It’s not coming from a direction. “I hear a calling out. As if someone’s calling for help.” I reach out.
DM: You grab Zarshaan’s breast.
Kon: The Force punched me for some reason. After I touched something weird.
Zareq: ‘Ow! The Force gave me a black eye!’

Kon continues to reach out, and the DM calls for a Discipline check. Kon passes and sees one of the natives in a cage, with Malefax staring in from the outside greedily.

Kon: Child rapist…
DM: It’s PROBABLY SYMBOLIC! Or at least not literal!
Kon: I try to focus. Where is he? Where do we need to go?!
DM: That’s what you’re getting with your Foresee 1.
Kon: Yeah, I need to put more points into it.

Bremen decides to go down and pump Kraaax for information, and possibly by deathsticks if the other PCs are any guide. He pulls up a hookah as a token of diplomacy.

DM: “So what do you want to know? Some of my information doesn’t come cheap!”
Bremen: “Our horned friend. How many did he arrive with yesterday?”
DM: “Just him.”
Bremen: “And he’s out?”
DM: “Oh yes.”
Bremen: “When did he leave?”
DM: “This morning, I think.”
Bremen: “Did he stay the night, or did he come and go?”
DM: “Oh he stayed.”

The DM calls for a Charm check, and Bremen curses, believing any roll is a guaranteed failure. This despite him having 4 dice.

Zarshaan: I’m not there, so I can’t give him boost dice, can I?
DM: No!
Kon: She’s in the room. “WHAT ARE YOU DOING!? GO! GO!”

Bremen rolls reasonably well, after about a half hour of laboriously rolling each individual die.

DM: “He was interested in some of our more… esoteric wares. Esoteric. You see what I’m saying?”
Bremen: “He was after an object, not a person.”
DM: “That’s… a matter of law. If you see what I’m saying. Whether it’s an object… or a person.”
Bremen: “You have slavery on this planet?”
DM: “We… we don’t stop it when it comes in. Up here.”
Kon: Did she just say it’s a matter of perspective? ‘When your father became Darth Vader, he died.’
DM: The door at the far end bangs. You turn over and look, you see Savan there. He’s doing a little wave like this and his other hand is held like this. In an instant you feel two powerful hands seize you by the shoulders and haul you over the counter. You’re promptly dropped behind it and then shoved underneath the counter.
Bremen: The hookah’s still on the counter, the pipes just disappearing under it… All right, I know what to do.
Kon: I know exactly what to do. (mimes shooting himself)
Bremen: Hell no, I’m taking one of them with me.
DM: I want you to roll me a Perception check to try to hear the conversation clearly.

The DM encourages them to spend one of their seven Light Side points to improve Bremen’s perception. They vow to die before surrendering a single one. Bremen hears enough, though: the Empire is looking for them and MALEFAX. But he bumps the dangling pipe, making it clatter!

Zareq: ‘Stupid space-roaches.’
Bremen: Blame the, uh…
DM: “There are two pipes in your hookah?” “I like the double.” (miming the double)
Bremen: How does the Stormtrooper-!?
DM: That was Kraaax.
Bremen: Oh.
DM: “You want a hit?” “I’m on duty, ma’am.” “Ah, don’t let that stop you. You can have a little fun. Come back later. Enjoy tastes… We got a new worm blend. Really tasty.”
Bremen: Those helmets filter out hookah.
DM: “Thank you for your answers, ma’am.” He hurriedly turns.
Zareq: ‘I suck a mean dick!’
Kon: We can have a scene where we’re backing up and Malefax is backing up… ‘Aaah! They’re after you?! They’re after me!’
DM: ‘They’re after me! They’re after you?!’
Kon: That scene could be happening RIGHT NOW.

The DM calls for Perception for those in the room, cheerfully imposing two setback dice so the characters can enjoy negating them. The rolling is generally poor except for Kon, who scores a Triumph and multiple threat.

DM: I’ll let you choose how to spend that however you want.
Zareq: ‘I poop myself!’

Kon spots the Stormtroopers out the window – and among them, a very tall and impossibly thin cloaked figure that is undoubtedly the droid they saw earlier or its exact double. His Triumph goes to negating being spotted himself, though the Force wrenches itself within him.

Zareq: You shit yourself.
DM: FORCE shit yourself. It’s going blue.
Kon: “The good news is, I don’t think the droid coming after us, who we stole the ship from, spotted us. The bad news is, I think Malefax knows we’re here.” Do I feel like someone else is…?
DM: Yeah, you pretty much got it in one.
Kon: I had a feeling.
DM: Clearly we’ve been roleplaying together too long, if from me describing that, you knew exactly what I had in mind. I’ve become predictable. I need to start doing things differently. Something goes right! Ha! You didn’t see that one coming, did you?
Kon: ‘All right guys, get ready.’ ‘Here you go, here’s the thing you need! The exact story point. You can leave the planet now.’ ‘What….?’
Zareq: ‘Don’t question it, just go!’
DM: What? Well, you get no experience, is that what—
Zareq: WE’RE FINE. GO.
DM: Is that how all our sessions are gonna go? You show up, do whatever, leave? Never improve? Never have conflict?
Zareq: Sure!
Kon: Did someone set the RPG to casual mode?
DM: For those who want to experience the story.
Bremen: Leaving it in the hands of the dice is like playing on Legendary.
DM: You guys haven’t been doing so bad today…
Zareq: ‘Malefaaaax! Come out and plaaaaaaay! Maaaalefaaaaax, come out and pllAAAAaaaaAaaaayyyy!’
Kon: I just imagine you sitting by the door.
Zareq: Space-bottles.

Bremen calls the guys on the commlink, though the PCs demand he bring hookahs and ice cream (non-worm) up. Kraaax encourages them to go take a walk, though to where?

Bremen: So we’re paying Savan—
Zareq: And – man, these people – everybody!
DM: You’re starting to get how this place works now, aren’t you?
Zareq: It’s called nickel-and-diming. I came here with 2000 credits, I am fucking broke after leaving this planet.
Bremen: It’s been like 6 hours.
DM: Just think, you could have gotten everything for free if all four of you had just pulled a blaster carbine on everybody.
Zareq: And all the Conflict we ever wanted.
DM: Win-win.
Bremen: Malefax is like, ‘hey guys, let’s go get a drink.’

The group debates the price as Bremen pops upstairs almost instantly. Somehow they end up married to Kraaax.

Kon: Either way, we need to be careful. Malefax may start hunting us as well.
Bremen: We’re gonna need those ponchos now.
Zareq: All right, let’s go back and talk to Kraaax. “Location and ponchos, please.”
Kon: She only charged us 200 to keep our ship. I’m pretty sure the location and ponchos aren’t going to be that bad.
Zareq: ‘300. Each.’
Kon: ‘We’ll take one poncho.’
Zareq: ‘One super-large poncho please.’
Bremen: Well, that’s a special order. 500. Blaster carbines it is!
Zareq: We’ll SHOOT the rain away from us!
Kon: As I make the request I put 200 credits on the table and slide it to her.
DM: “Well, big spender, you just bought four of my finest ponchos.” (a pause) ‘I was planning on giving you four of my stupidest ponchos.’
Kon: The rain goes INTO it?!
DM: She quickly whips out a roll of garbage bags, slashes a hole in the top, pops it over you. Why don’t you roll a Charm check?
Bremen: He did, it’s called 200 credits!
DM: You get two boost dice.

Kon fails the test and this costs them the full amount, but his advantage helps him as Kraaax teaches him several quick hand signs for communication. Zareq dubs it Thieves’ Cant, Slug World. And off they head, seeking out a black market built into the underside of a platform!

Bremen: Is the swamp clear?
DM: What kind of a question is that? It’s a swamp, it’s not clear by definition!

The Stormtroopers get distracted by, apparently, a light grenade. The DM calls for them to make Stealth rolls. Zareq rolls so well he disappears and appears back with their master, who promptly kills him.

Bremen: Come to think of it, how does the Empire even know where we are?
Zareq: Wait a minute, are you saying our master is selling us out?
DM: Well there WAS a Star Destroyer.
Bremen: ‘I had no choice. They arrived before you.’
Zareq: ‘No! Bing-Bong! Why’s he all in pieces?”
Kon: No! Now all I can see is the droid that we stole the ship from is interrogating Bing-Bong in the chair, with the shocks.

The group imagines this with such volume that they scare the cat. They make excellent time, not worried about the incredibly corrupt local security. They reach the door to the black market1

Zareq: She tell us how to knock on the door?
DM: She said it’s up to you to make it clear you’re not a threat.
Zareq: Shave and a haircut…
DM: Roger Rabbit bursts out of the wall next to you.
Bremen: ‘Twooooo biiiiiits!’
Kon: ‘Be careful, young lady. We’ll bring out… the dip.’
DM: The salt.

A doorman opens peepholes, and Zareq sets to rolling a Streetwise check. Then they realize Kon is better and he gets to roll instead. The DM shames them for hoarding their Destiny Points. Kon doesn’t need it, though – he rolls excellently!

DM: The peepholes snap shut, and after a moment, the door opens.
Kon: Just a big blaster cannon. PEW!
Bremen: Die, tyrant!
Kon: You’re like, ‘do you use one of the symbols to save yourself from the blaster rifle?’ ‘I’LL DIE!’

Racist jokes ensue, out of NOWHERE. Down they head, stepping into a bustling open market populated by numerous species. It is painfully heavy on slaves; they are shackled, caged, pinned down…

Kon: Thank god my emotional weakness is greed.
DM: None of you compassionate fuckers here.
Kon: (laughing) Why is Bremen giving you that look?
DM: Because he’s angry!
Kon: Are you compassionate?
Bremen: Uh….
Zarshaan: My emotional weakness is weakness, so.
DM: Yeah, you’re like, ‘oh, it’s too HARD to do anything about all this, I’ll just let it go.’

Some of the slavers eye them as speculative wares, but a sneer from Bremen quickly turns them away. They are approached by three droids – a humanoid medical droid and two war droids openly carrying blaster rifles.

Bremen: ‘We are no match for droidekas…’
DM: “Good eeeevening, I recognize you all, your information has been transmitted to my database. You are accredited here as visitors. If you wish to do transactional business, there will be a modest fee to conduct yourselves as buyers or a setup fee as sellers. I warn you I do not tolerate tomfoolery in my business. I suggest you keep everything aboveground, metaphorically speaking.”
Kon: I was hoping he’d be like, ‘Bing-Bong is one of my close friends. He said you are cool.”
DM: “Be aware of the rules. Weapons are not to be drawn against merchants. Droids are not to be brought here as property.”
Bremen: It’s reverse racism!
Kon: “Thank you for explaining the rules. We will not be foolish enough to break them here.”

They inquire about enslaved Werluckians; the droid informs them that they are a rare and unwelcome commodity, but nonetheless tolerated. He directs them to the back and warns them to be discreet. And that is where the game ends, as time reaches its limit. STAR WARS THEME ENSUES.