The offer sounded appealing to Mars' ears. Leaving this place was a good idea, and the woman offered a good plan of doing exactly that. But then Ara had to bring up a "no killer" speech.

"Speak for yourself," Mars said in a low voice, but then spoke up. "I am a mercenary, and if the money is right my weapons and skills are yours."

He was ready to follow Maya as soon as they would leave.

Ithiria moves and retrieves her daggers, wiping the blood off on the storm troopers body before resheathing them, her mind wandering and saying a prayer for forgiveness for killing the storm troopers, she stands and bows to the shop owner “Our apologies for the damage to your shop” she hands her own 75 credit chip over as well “if her’s does not cover the costs mine should as well” with that she moves with a grace, calm on her face as she listens to the others.

A small smirk crosses her face at Mar’s comment. “Typical merc, following the money or the booty always hard to tell with your kind mars” as she nods to lead on.

Gundark looked Ara’ala and Ithiria over as they handed over their credsticks. “Hmmm… yeah, that will more than cover it,” he said grimly, the sure knowledge that these two fine ladies wouldn’t be dancing for him any time soon darkening his thoughts. “I don’t know what kinda trouble yer lookin’ ta brew, but when them troopers come by, I ain’t never seen ya.”

He paused a moment before shaking his head. “Don’t come ‘round here any time soon. I don’t need ta be mixed up in yer mess.” And with that, he went back into his cantina.

Having come to an agreement, Maya led her rescuers to a nearby maintenance room. The companions could tell that the woman’s injuries were affecting movement, a noticeable limp and a sharpness of breathing clear indicators.

In the corner of the small room was a service elevator. Maya made her way on to the platform, and motioned for the others to join her. The platform creaked and groan a little under their weight. The woman worked the computer quickly, punching in the unlock sequence and the deck request – P-12.

The ride up smooth and swift, as they rushed passed more than ten decks. Stepping off the platform, Maya led them out of the maintenance room and through a series of corridors. The heros notice that amongst the people that they pass by there are fewer non-humans than even on the promanade. No one seems to pay them much attention though. Finally, Maya stops in front of a door. Sliding the keycard, she enters in and invites the others to join her. The room is another maintenance space, with two enclaves to the right and left. The one to the right seems to contain only a bed and chest, while the one to the left looks like a small workshop with a table and numerous tools. A disassembled R2 unit is laid out on the table and on the floor around it.

Maya moves to the table and takes a seat on the chair. She indicates that the companions should gather around, and find makeshift seats from the boxes and crates nearby. When they are settled, Maya begins her tale:

“Like I said on the Promanade, I’m Maya. My employer is Senator Bail Organa of Alderaan. I’m with the Alderaanian Security Force and part of the Senator’s personal security detail. I arrived of the station nearly four hours ago to recover some valuable cargo for my employer. I’m supposed to meet a droid named Switch in Deep Storage Bay V-14. This droid, Switch, was responsible for receiving and storing this cargo, which was shipped all the way from the Deep Core.

As she continues, Maya begins sliding out of the top half of her coveralls, revealing a tight, black halter. “Before I could contact Switch, however, I was laid up by the Empire. Apparently,” a sharp gasp of pain escape her lips as she gingerly lift the bottom of her halter slightly to examine her wound. “the fact that I’m working for a vocal opponent of the Emperor has red-flagged me as a troublemaker. I get the feelin’ that the Empire wants me off the station one way or the other.

“So, here’s what I need,” Maya says, looking at each of the companions briefly, grunting a little as she tries to sit up straight. “I’m in no shape to be moving around this station. I need you to meet up with Switch, find out the location of the cargo, and recover it. I will provide you with transportation to Alderaan once you have secured the cargo. From there, you can decide where you want to go.”

She added, “Let me say, your efforts could possibly save many lives.” Focusing on Mars, “And Senator Organa will be more than happy to reward you for your work. “

“What do ya say? Interested in some work that could actually make a real difference?”

Ithiria followed behind quietly, contemplating and thinking about what they were going to do next when they arrived at Maya’s hide out. She moves and sits watching and listening as maya explains the situation. “Well The good Senator was a Friend of the Jedi” she says in a calm tone “I would be willing to assist in such an endeavour as long as it is for a good reason.”

As she waits for the others to decide she pulls her throwing daggers out and starts to clean and sharpen them, as well as oiling them just for good measure.

‘Does he care about anything except money?’
The thought troubled Ara as she followed Maya through the winding passageways and service elevators that led to the apartment. Ordinarily her attention would have been drawn to the scattered parts of the astromech droid that lay in one alcove, and her mind would have begun to compute what needed to be done to re-assemble it. But at that moment all Ara could think of was whether Mars would betray them for a handful of Imperial credits.

She had no answer. Her blue eyes fell upon the quiet, almost sullen, mercenary but she could read little emotion in the implacable mask Mars wore as his face.

“You’re hurt,” Ara remarked at last to Mars, pointing at his midriff where a blaster bolt had scorched a hole into his jumpsuit.

“Like I said on the Promenade, I’m Maya,” a voice interrupted before Ara could offer her aid. Which was just as well, as her skills lay in welding broken circuits rather than healing bleeding arteries. Maya continued by talking of her employer, the droid and cargo she needed to recover, and the chance to make a new start in Alderaan.

“I don’t suppose you’re going to tell us what this cargo is?” Ara asked after Maya had finished. Her fingers fished for another cigarra and her laser welder-cum-lighter. She lit the end of the thin tabac stick with another puff of sweet-smelling smoke. “Not that it matters. I’ve done my share of smuggling in the past. And, if you can make good on your promise to get us to Alderaan, I’m in.”

Moving quickly, Mars had his eyes peeled all the way to Maya's hideout. Luckily for them all, there were no stormtroopers on their way to stop them.

At last they got to the hideout, Ara pointed out the wound which Mars had suffered a little earlier. "You’re hurt," she said to him. "I'm fine," he replied, "it's only a fleshwound." He was lying, it hurt like hell, but this was not the time to worry about little things. Later, when time would permit him to, he would deal with his wounds.

Maya spoke of a good job, and reward for said job. Find the droid, get the cargo. Sounded simple, but like Mars had found out the hard way the job was rarely as simple as they sounded.

Both Ithiria and Ara accepted the job, and Mars was not going to turn it down either. "I'm in as well," he said, "but the reward better be worth it." It was a fractional lie. He didn't really care about the reward, although it usually served as a good bonus. But if he could help annoy the Empire, he would jump to the task.

[OOC: Instead of giving you all an XP bonus for your prompt posting, I am giving you information instead. I had Maya roll Computer Use and Gather Information skill checks to provide your characters with information regarding Deep Storage Bay V14. She rolled an 18 and 20 respectively… extra nice for you!!]

Maya gave a wiry smile to her rescuers, which quickly turned to a wince as she tried to manage the pain. “Thank you,” she said simply, giving them a nod, and taking in a deep, cleansing breath. “Alright then… let’s get to work.”

Taking out a datapad, Maya connects it efficiently to a nearby holoprojector. A 3D schematic diagram of Sel Zonn Station flashes to live in front of the companions. Using a touch pen on the datapad screen, the security officer quickly zooms in on deck P-12. “Here we are,” she says, highlighting one of the rooms. “And, as far as I can tell, you need to get…” her pen traces a line down, down, into the lower portion of the station, “here. Deck N-14.”

She pauses a moment to look at the companions before continuing, “From the intel I was able to gather, before the Empire became aware of my presence, N-14 is off limits to all non-Imperial personnel. It’s been quarantined for the last year and a half but, get this… no maintenance requests have been made to date.

“So, I asked around a bit,” Maya gives the group a sly smile. “Seems our dear Switch runs his operation out of the storage bay. He’s got some Twi’lek character delivering a monthly bribe to the station manager to keep quiet and keep the maintenance down to a bare minimum. The Imperials don’t like it much, but the local security seems to be keeping them off the deck.”

Turning back her datapad, she zooms up Deep Storage Bay V14. “Speaking of security, our droid has apparently got some Gamorrean thugs on his payroll. You’ll likely find some of them guarding the entrance here.” She points out the entrance before making one final note, “The station’s primary exhaust systems also run along the storage bay… or, rather, through the bay. You’ll know you have the right place when you see those exhaust conduits.”

A quick tap on the datapad and the image from the holoprojector disappears from sight. Maya removes the connection cables and returns the pad to her pocket. “I’ve got one keycard for the service elevators, and I’m going to need it to make contact with our ride off of here,” She says grimly. “I know you’ve made a name for yourselves on the Promanade, but you’re going to need to make your way down the main elevators to N-14 quietly and meet up with Switch. I don’t know of another safe way there.”

Changing subjects, she asks, “You got a comm unit?”

[OOC: Assuming Ithiria says yes…]

“Great,” she gives the Twi’lek a channel frequency. “When you’ve secured the cargo for transport, use the frequency to contact me. But!” she says sternly. “But, don’t use it until you’ve got the cargo secured. I think the Imperials are monitoring the frequencies.”

Looking around the room, she offers, “You’re welcome to take whatever you think you might need from here.”

"Any questions?"

Ithiria listens to maya nodding as she hears things, when asked if she has a comlink she nods “yes I do”

Her mind wanders for a few moments, thinking about plans and routes, storm troopers and other possible bad guys, the droid, the bays, the cargo as it dawns on her slowly.

“We need to get down there without attracting to much attention and with what we did earlier they will be looking for gun toting imp killers, so what about disguises?” she asks looking at mars.

Looking to Maya she speaks softly "there are other ways other than a Comlink to communicate"

Typical mandalorian as well, couldn’t even try to talk out just rushed and jumped into things without thinking what problems could arise, if master yoda saw him doing that I could see his cane smacking this one on the nose. She thought to her self.

‘She sounds like a Jedi.’
Ara pondered over the revelation for a full twelve seconds, rolling her cigarra between her fingers slowly as she did so. When the seconds were up she spluttered into a sudden laugh.

“’Other ways to communicate other than a comlink’? You sound like one of those Jedi in the Alexis Cov-Prim holovids. Next you’ll be waving your hands and having Mars believe he’s a bantha, or rushing off to Coruscant to confront the Emperor in a duel!”

Ara flashed a pearly smile in the direction of Ithiria from within the pall of smoke that surrounded where she sat. “Of course those Jedi were merely a myth.”

Ara shook her head still amused by the notion that Ithiria was one of the near-mythical Jedi Order. “I think the idea of a disguise is a good one, though. We could disguise you two as tech-heads with all the odds and ends Maya has here, and disguise our faces behind goggles or a welding mask.”

Mars looked towards Ara as the conversation included the Jedi. He felt the blood boil as the image of a Jedi killing his clan-mates lingered in his mind. Mars even completely disregarded any ideas of disguises.

"The Jedi are no myth!" Mars yelled out. "They are dangerous and deserve little more than extinction! Those bantha brains, poodoo!"

He walked a little around the room, trying to calm down, but the image wouldn't leave his mind for a while.

Ara took a sharp draw of her cigarra, startled by the sudden outburst from Mars. It was the first time she had seen a chink in his icy demeanour.

“Maybe not,” she replied, after Mars had finished his angry pacing across the room, “but if they were real they weren’t the people they made themselves out to be. There’s a lot of frack on Arkania, and no Jedi ever came to help there.”

Ara shrugged, and lent over to put out her cigarra on a durasteel table. “Not that it matters. They’re either all dead, never existed, or don't care enough to help us now.”

Mars looked at Ara. "Do not underestimate the Jedi," he said, calmer now than before, "I've done that once before and it is a lesson I do not want to learn again. By thinking they no longer exist you have shown how you are not prepaired."

After speaking his mind, Mars sat down again and scratched his rough chin. "We won't be able to move around the station without a disguise, but it leaves us vulnerable if the stormtroopers do find us. We will need weapons close at hand, but hidden from plain sight. It will be tough."

Ithiria watched them as they talked about the jedi, the order she use to belong to and shook her head ruefully.

"the Jedi were not a myth or legend, nor were they able to stop everything that went on on all the planets." she said softly to Ara.

Looking at Mars she spoke just as softly "Though I admit mars does have a point, jedi are not to be underestimated but not all are bad, most of the surviving jedi now work for the emperor or some other evil force, but still not all were bad"

She frowned and hung her head muttering in ryl "I'm not bad" before speaking in basic again "Well disguises are good i dont doubt that, and mechanics outfits should work so lets get ready"

With that she stood grabbing some mechanics coveralls and went to change out of sight of the others, making sure when she put the coveralls on that her lightsaber holster was secure on her back hidden but accessable and that her snap baton was back again hidden by her tails.

Having heard Maya, and having agreed to help, the companions made their plans quickly. Deciding to disguise themselves as maintenance workers, they went to work, collecting the needed items to complete their outfits. Ara’ala oversaw her friends’ labours, adding a pair of welding goggles to Ithiria and a half-faced gas-filtration mask to Mars.

Taking a few minutes, the mechanic from Arkania disassembled the blaster carbine she had picked up earlier, carefully memorizing how the weapon fit together so that she could reassemble it at a later time. She also grabbed another medpac to replace the one she had used on the Promanade.

When the companions seemed ready to go, Maya saw them to the door. “Remember: Don’t use the comm frequency until you have secured the package. Good luck!” She looked at Mars specifically as she finished, “I hope to see you all soon.”

The companions made their way swiftly to the main elevator shaft. They passed by a number of the station’s citizens, including a few stormtroopers. Ara’ala’s disguises seemed to be holding up, though, as no one seemed to pay the three maintenance workers any attention.

Mars pushed the elevator call button, and the three of them waited briefly for a lift to arrive. A light indicated that the lift had arrived and they anxiously waited for the doors to open, eager to get off this deck.

As the doors open, the companions are greeted by their worst fear – four stormtroopers stand on the lift talking to each other. Once the doors fully open, two of the troopers exit off on the deck, but the other two make no motion to leave.

[OOC: Alright... so! Now what? See the Q/A board for more details...]

Ara’s eyes drifted upwards, tracing the lazy descent of the elevator. ‘9, 8, 7, 6…’ she breathed, watching each yellow light flash on and then off, trying hard to repress the nervousness she felt at standing our in the open after the fire-fight earlier that morning. ‘Come on,’ she willed, thrusting a hand into an empty pocket, in case it reached for the easy comfort of another cigarra.

When the elevator did arrive with a loud ‘bing!’, however, she immediately wished it hadn’t.

Ara found herself staring into the faceless mask of a stormtrooper. It was the only the presence of her finger-nails digging into the flesh of her thigh that prevented her from twitching in alarm, or fleeing from the scene as fast as she could. ’Just a couple of grunts,’ she reasoned behind her goggles, they don’t know who you are.’
“So…uhh, you guys going down?” Ara inquired, with a half-step into the elevator.