The Empire reigns supreme over the Galaxy, but the brewing civil war gains momentum with each passing day, threatening the iron grip of the Emporer and his minions. The Empire will stop at nothing to consolidate and maintain its control, having disbanded the Senate, restricted the HoloNet, and cut off the Core worlds from the rest of the Galaxy. The once-great Jedi Order has been eliminated under the oversight of the Dark Lord Darth Vader, and any remaining Force users not under the sway of the Dark Side and in service to the Empire are in full retreat, hiding in the far corners of the Galaxy. The shadow of the Empire's influence is everywhere, but in the outer reaches of the Galaxy where control is more tenuous, the Emporer turns a blind eye to the great crime syndicates who operate there ... as long as they don't draw too much attention. These are the times you live in.

At the moment, the great struggle for dominance of the Galaxy seems umimportant as you take in your surroundings. The thin walls of the freighter separate you from the frozen expanses of the galaxy beyond. You can feel the eternal cold of space seeping through and chiling your bones. There are no windows for you to see out of, yet you know that the dark vacuum of space is close. You can hear the steady thrum of the great engines powering you toward your destiny. But what kind of destiny?

For now, fate has discarded you into this predicament, bound by electronic collars on each of your neck, wrists, and ankles. Along with a few other unlucky creatures and droids, you are prisoners of the Bothan crew, most likely taking you to the Outer Rim for a quick sale in the lucrative and highly illegal slave trade. As you know, the Empire's grip on the outer worlds isn't as tight as they would have you believe, so these types of activities still go on. Three humans, several droids, and what appears to be a gagged Kowakian monkey-lizard should bring a handsome price on the black market.

With the exception of the droids, all of the beings chained with you are in a state of semi-consciousness, having been deprived of both food and water for an indeterminate amount of time.

The hatch to the ship's bridge slams open , startling you into alertness. Three Bothans, your captors, are having a heated and animated discussion in Bothan as they spill into the cargo hold where you are located. All three of them are approximately 1.5 meters tall and have simian features like those of all Bothans. You can not understand what they are saying, but they appear to be arguing. One of them sporadically points overhead in a sweeping motion and sometimes gestures back into the bridge where you can now hear the radio crackling.

One of the captured droids, a protocol droid, glancing about, referring to the insistent radio, remarks in a light, pleasant voice to noone in particular, "Oh my! They are quite persistent"

The smallest and most colorfully marked of the Bothans grunts disdainfully at the droid and turns to go back into the bridge, presumably to reply to the radio queries. The Bothan doesn't make it because at that moment, the entire ship shakes violently, as if hit by an enormous hammer. Gasses seep out of ruptured lines, warning sirens begin sounding and flashing.

If the Bothan argument wasn't extremely heated and urgent before, it is all the moreso now. The largest of the three Bothans is grunting out orders to the other two, who respond by chaotically throwing what appear to be food, water, and clothing into a recess in the ship's hull.

The freighter is slammed mightily again from some external source, tossing everyone across the floor from the right side of the cargo bay all the way to the left side. One small power droid hits a bulkhead so hard that it chirps before blinking out for good. The protocol droid asks "Hello? Are you all right? Oh no!" with concern for the smaller machine.

As the Bothans recover from this second impact, you can clearly see now that the depression in the hull is actually the etry to the ship's single escape pod. Due to the impact, the Bothan's supplies have all flown clear from the pod and are scattered across the floor of the cargo bay. The Bothans don't seem to care.

With a wild look in their eyes, the Bothans scramble one over another into the escape pod, no longer caring about supplies, only survival. Inside, they all frantically connect restraining harnesses before one of them presses a large red button that begins to close off the escape pod. As the door begins to close, one of your captor's eyes scans your faces. You see what could only be pity in her eyes as she reaches into her pocket, pulls out the remote control to your manacles and presses the release button as the escape pod's inner door seals off, cutting off your brief eye contact.

Down the line, your restraints hiss as they pop off, one by one. You find it strange that one of your captors would release you considering your prior treatment. Nonetheless, you are free. You can now speak as well, no longer silenced by your collar.

Hardly noticable amidst the cacophony of shipboard warnings and malfunctioning systems, the frieghter gives a small shudder as the escape pod jettisons.

After a few moments, before you have time to react to the situation, you hear an explosion outside the ship, then the screeching of another vessel as it passes by at high speed.

The rusted one-armed protocol droid, summing up the situation, states indignantly, "How rude!"

Your destiny is in your hands......