Lady Arya — Roleplayer Guild

Earth: 2149

In the not so distant future after relentless consumption, unchecked expansions and blindness finally brought Mother Earth to her knees. Humanity had used nearly every bit of resource she had given them. The very air on the surface was toxic, thick with pollutants and microplastics, barely breathable. No one dared to walk the surface without a breather mask. Even if you had one, they come at cost. A cost, that either you pulled one from a pale blue body or brokered a deal so high, you had nothing left but the mask itself. Basic resources, like food and water, were no longer a right but a commodity. Heavy regulated by mega corps that existed high in the clouds. Those elite living in aerial domes above with the abundance of fresh food and air, blissfully ignorant of those living below on the surface. 

Even in the final years of our dear Earth, the unexplainable happened in one of the most remote regions of the surface.  An event that defied every known law of physics; a tear in the fabric of reality. No one, not the surface dwellers nor the elite could explain the anomaly, yet it was, staring them in the face. Quickly, the elite established reign over the region, building heavy fortified structures around the event. Scientists poured in from across each corner of the globe. For months they studied the data, coming to a conclusion that it was a temporal doorway. A door that reached back sixty-five million years into Earth’s past. Before pollution, before machines. This anomaly was a second chance, a way to reset humanity, to establish a new Earth. Untainted by the mistakes of their current dying world. Thus, Project Genesis was born. 

The project was a dream too potent to suppress, even for those living in the domes. A Humanity Preservation Council was created, a necessary means to bring peace between those above the surface and on it. The councils job was to choose. It was not a democratic choice but a brutal, calculated selection process. A lottery of sorts as they called it, but one with stringent physical, genetic criteria. It was designed to select those only deemed capable of surviving and help rebuild our home. 

Are you one of those selected few?

Okay, so this is my first attempt in making a group RP. (Yikes!). I really want a small group to have a slice of life, survival mode RP. This is really about resetting and rebuilding a new life and the challenges that a modern person placed sixty-five millions years in the past would look like. For those wondering about specifics like technology or even time travel. We can talk about that later.

If you are interested, reply here or PM me.

Aellyn leaned back against the cushioned seat as the waitress left the two ladies to themselves. The table littered with several bowls and plates of food. A kind of celebratory dinner from the success of their last heist. Not to say she could have grabbed food from a street vendor, this called for something better. Besides, she missed the fine dining of Corusant, even if it was a past life. She reached in her pocket and pulled out a disc, laying in the middle of the table as they ate. She clicked it as it pulled up a circular station, the holo began to circle.

 “This is the Helix. A seedy little casino on the outer rim. No one knows who owns it but by the looks, I would bet money to say the Banking clan. This place holds a lot of credits and credits is what we are going after. If we can pull this off.”  Aellyn took a bite from the closest plate to her, enjoying the taste. 

 “Our job is to be the face. The two on the floor along with whomever this Morrik Venn guy is that Fel decides to hire for a Sabaac expert. I don’t know him. I don’t trust him but it is what we got. For the record, I don’t trust you either but you are here to pay a debt, like you said. We roam the floor, our target is the Prime Minister of Byllun-Prime. What we know is that the Empire needs him for something. My bet, it's something on his planet they want and they are willing to pay. We keep him occupied, steal the codes, intercept the deal, and we will be living out our lives without a care in the world. “  She paused, another bite of food, letting her words sink into the woman's mind across from her. It may be simple but their part is a lot of touch and go. Reading the room, reading people. In her mind, if Mal was as good as sneaking around, she can play her part in this. 

 “Questions?”  Aellyn asked.

“When you say ‘be the face’...” Eryn awkwardly speared a roll of meat and bright pink cheese with her fork, giving it a suspicious once-over before deciding food was food and stuffing the whole thing in her mouth. She eyed her new partner in crime with the same look she'd given the food. “...what exactly are we talking about?”

Her glass clinked against the table, the liquid swirling inside.  “ Face? Hm, more than likely we are the distraction. To keep the players occupied while we gather intel, steal codes, then keep their minds on the game and well.. Us. This will give the boys their opportunity to do their part…”  Aellyn looked over Mal.  “You asked me what was in the crate earlier. Clothes. Fancier than you or I could afford. We have to look the part. Besides they would probably smell better than anything that is on board the UA. Trust me on that…”  She leaned forward, placing her arms on the table.  “It could mean a lot of quick thinking on your part, especially if things go wrong. But, I have a feeling that you could handle it. You stuck around so I figured to give you the opportunity. A heist that could punch a hole in the Empire…”  She shrugged, leaning back against the padded booth. 

“Not worried about quick thinking. Got that covered and then some.” Eryn wiped her mouth on the back of her hand and dragged another bowl of electric-orange noodles towards her, attacking it with her utensils like it was life or death. “Guess I’ll need a shower then,” she said around a mouthful, using the quip to disguise her momentary anxiety.

Aellyn smirked at the comment, taking  a drink from her glass while her eyes shifted to the other patrons.

Being ‘face’ was a problem for Eryn for two reasons.
One, flashing her actual face around a bunch of security and holo-cams was way too much exposure for her. Someone running across her mug on the bounty boards was almost a guarantee at that point.
And two…she figured the clothes Red had mentioned would be fancy and restrictive, two things that did not look at home on her frame in any way, shape or form. 
Not that she hadn’t cleaned up for stuff like this in the past. But it had been such a long time since she’d tapped into anything that wasn’t ‘run, kill, eat, hide, threaten’,, and she’d never mastered her mom’s charmy wiles. Put Eryn in a dress and she might not LOOK like a Gamorrean in a gown, but she’d certainly feel like one, and she wasn’t the best actress. 

Finishing the food in about seventeen seconds, she flicked the bowl away and leaned back, giving their surroundings a quick scan. “I’m in. Said I’d help. So I’ll help. No stranger to this kind of ‘party’. I’ll make it work.” Eryn fixed her new companion with a very blank, unreadable look. “...the others got our backs? ..What do you think of them?”

 “Hm, interesting question. I wouldn’t say yes, wouldn’t say no. I was just picked up for passage just a few days ago. They don’t know me but somehow trusted me to steal from a star destroyer with them. Though, in those few days managed to piss off the Pilot pretty good. Went off script but who hasn’t…”  Aellyn took another drink.  “Jet, seems good enough. Republic soldier, I think. The kid? Hasn’t been off world, he is green as they come. Don’t know him. Don’t care as long as he does his job. The pilot, well, I think he has his secrets like us all. That doesn’t mean he wouldn’t look out for you…us. I would be space junk honestly but I suppose he might have a soft spot. If you are wondering about me? I wouldn’t trust me…”  She finished off her drink, laying down a few credits on the table.  “Bout time we head back, sure Fel wants to probably start planning this heist.”  Aellyn scooted out from the booth, waited for her new companion to follow. 

Eryn wasn’t buying, so she stood as Miss ‘Don’t Trust Me’ did, but like hell was she gonna let any food they hadn’t demolished go to waste. With practiced speed, Eryn had the dumplings in her pockets, protein sticks up her sleeves and the last remaining scraps of food dumped unceremoniously into a plastic bag before Aellyn had taken two steps. 

The stow’s resting bad-bitch face had a sour twist to it as they left in step that had nothing to do with the food and everything to do with the idea of putting fancy clothes on, but she’d endured worse. 

The walk back was relatively quiet. Minds on the mission. Wheels turning. Preparing. 
Hopefully, everything panned out how everyone wanted.
But Eryn had a feeling they both knew it wouldn’t. 

At about the same time, Galdaart Fel was screwing the last of the retaining bolts back into place, saying a short prayer to the overseers of the unlucky, and flipped the switch to reactivate Wrench. It would take a good several moments before the little droid was back online, and in that time Fel made himself scarce. The dorsal hull of the UA was cool to the touch, and he laid back, found a little hole of sky above him where he could just make out a cloudless night, amongst all the levels of megacity above him. He thought about his place in the caper that lay before them. Steal something that would allow the faces to get aboard the Helix. Book passage to the station for himself, Jet and the Kid on separate shuttles, or work transports, scout the exit strategy, prep the Imperial shuttle for evac, and bounce out of there when all were safely aboard (unless the faces’ cover hadn’t been blown, in which case they could simply leave at their leisure on a shuttle or transport for pickup after the heist.) There’d likely be trouble on his end of things. Wasn’t there always? 

He climbed down the top-deck access hatch, and back into the galley, and from there to the cabin his stuff was in. Went looking for it. And looked, and looked. Tins of crap they’d scav’d from jobs in the past, little trinkets of a life lived on the fringes of space. Old friends, long gone. Digging deeper, he was getting closer. Prison tags. Dogtags. Transfer papers. Squadron procurement and requisition forms. Personnel datacards. Bingo. Mil-spec ID’s. He accessed his terminal after pocketing the Imperial ident cards. Slipped the contact card into the coded terminal. It took a moment to connect. Establishing.. Establishing… then, dead air for a moment. 

“Hello?”

“It’s Indo.” there was a pause. More dead air.

“Don’t know any Indo. You must have the wrong contact. Try the Iron Ferret, next time you’re that way, planetside.“ 

“Oh, sorry about that. You have a good night, sir.”

“You too. Bye now…” There was a click, as the connection was terminated. 

Shavvit. That meant Venn was at the Outside Inn. They’d have to lift off and make the traverse. It was too far to take a speeder. Fel wasn’t too worried about getting Venn on-side. The man had an ego that required its own delivery service. Being made a part of the biggest heist in a dozen standard years would appeal to his sense of superiority. Besides, he owed Fel. And that was as good a hook as any. The spacer moved to the broken Dejarik table, sat back, and put his feet up. Just needed a full house, and they could be off..

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