Star Wars: The Station - Character RP - ALWAYS OPEN (IC)

[Sarrin]

Oronda Station, Basement Floor

'Separatists would pay well for a Jedi' Jokir thought as he began slicing the mechanics terminal. It was far more advanced than his new workshop, this was going to be trouble for sure. He reset his attempt to start the process over.

'Bodra was offering a good bounty as well, one of his lieutenants even wanted to a lightsaber.' The screen powered on the reset complete once again a request for a hand print and a password. The password was easy - 'MandaloriansSuck' - even if it was a little unnecessary. The hand print however had been carefully constructed. There were two on record the mechanic and a 'Natalya Sadaar'. Her's hadn't been registered yet, but that would have to be done at security.

He pressed a few keys on his eye modification projecting a holonet screen on 'Natalya Sadaar'. There wasn't much. A sabacc tournament she had won on Nar Shadaa. Ownership of a station. Something about a Vaylen Sadaar serving in Felucia though it was unclear if they were connected. She was Pantoran, young, pretty operating a station in the outer rim without a clear license from the Hutts.

He needed to make some calls.

Cantina

The cybernetics had ups and downs for Razius. His IQ was boosted enough to function at that of a child but his physiology and cognitive processes were no different from his kowakian kin. As he entered the Cantina he knew two things: he wanted alcohol and he wasn't going to be served. The monkey lizard scampered to the bar glancing at each of the patrons as he passed to save their image in his databank. Jokir always shocked him when he didn't get all the information. About half way through he stopped and darted under a table. Studying the tactical droid and its conversation with a pantoran and a dathomiri. There weren't suppose to be separatists on this station, they might try and steal their bounty. No bounty, no food, no cigars, no alcohol, more shocks.

Razius paused focusing his eye and recording the words coming from the pantoran's mouth. 'Neutered Station'. Razius wasn't neutered. Razius needed those parts.

He scampered past jumping onto a bar stool and up to the bar to see a droids serving drinks. Razius needed a drink. Razius wasn't neutered. Razius would sire many. He reached under the counter and grabbed a bottle...

[Greater Persian State]

Orondia

---

Urchuln's eyes popped open on both sides of his head as the beeping bounced off the walls of the inside of his ship. R4 poked the blanket of the small bed as the long range communicator hummed.

"Alright, alright."Urchuln got out of bed waving off the Astromech as he got his bearings. Urchuln quickly washed his face off with water, while his species breathed in air fine, they were still aquatic and required decent moisture. After he had gotten himself cleaned up after his short rest, he examined the communications device. A response was in.

Code: Select all

Message acknowledged and relayed as needed STOP. Maintain assignment unless compromised STOP. Further intelligence on Seperatist presence required STOP. Without risking exposure ascertain the following DASH Enemy base location STOP. Total enemy troop strength STOP. Total enemy naval strength STOP. Presence of further enemy officers including high value commanders STOP. DASH Beware Super Tactical Droid capable of advanced logic, social and other cognitive functions in addition to strategic capabilities STOP. Update Listening Post within 48 hours STOP.

Urchuln cursed under his breath. Part of him had been hoping for an an abort order, but he knew the mission had just escalated dramatically. He closed up the device and prepared to head back to the cantina before he missed anything big. He got his things and opened up the ship. The door opened and the ramp lowered with a puff of steam as Vas walked down the ramp with R4. As he headed towards the cantina he clicked a button on his arm's technological pad to close up the ship, which it did.

"R4, stay with the ship. I'll tell you if we have any jobs."

Urchuln entered the cantina again, where the Super Battle Droids and the Super Tactical Droid towered over the other people in there. Nat was holding onto her holster as she spoke with the Super Tactical Droid. Urchuln decided to open up the situation.

"Commander, sir-sorry ma'am, is that it?" He smiled as he took a seat in a nearby seat. "Sorry, just got some rest. You deserve to be heard out proper, I just needed to sleep. What are the conditions of your ship purchasing deal, I just thought I should hear you out, a top droid like yourself." Vas hung his bag on his seat and quickly motioned for a drink quietly. As it was noticed he said audibly, "perhaps something a bit harder this time, thanks."

[Derika]

"Yes, thank you." Liehiry responded. Liehiry starts to walk into the cantina and walks up to the bar.

[Charlemagna]

Alba Joostal

In the early hours of the morning, despite the efforts of her heavy eyelids, Alba was still just about awake, and was to be found atop her bed, bent over a data pad (her personal one that is, certainly not the Company one). Numerous versions of the same haphazard plans spilled onto multiple pages, as Alba swiped back and forth. She wasn’t completely sure how large her space would be, but she’d cut a glance at the unit next to the cantina and it looked reasonably sized. Enough for several different rooms at least.

“Hey Gee,” Alba said. “Can you show me those pictures of the Naboo bathhouses again?”

Her droid beeped - Alba imagined she detected a slightly weary tone - and projected a selection of images into the middle of the room; geometric shapes, patterned tiles, baths and saunas…

Alba liked the idea of taking inspiration from there… but she was also conscious that the spa would be pretty much the only place one could relax, and chiefly, get away from it all.

Her current design was centred on a large hexagonal centrepiece of a room; a pool deep enough for most species to swim in, surrounded by benches and sun loungers. Preferably with a rock formation at its centre, a waterfall cascading into the pool. The aesthetic was ochre and terracotta and warm. If possible - Alba wanted trees reaching up to the ceiling and looping over, and screens that gave the impression that one was in a rich, green ecosystem- one that was warm and sunny. A light amount of steam would keep the temperature warm, and the atmosphere mysterious and calm.

From the central room, further, small rooms would reach out, fitting together in a geometric pattern. The lobby, through which one would enter, and book appointments. Changing rooms. Then; a proper Steam Room, a chain of Saunas, a Massage parlour (Alba wasn’t sure if hiring a Massage Therapist would be possible, but she liked the thought of keeping the option open, who knew, maybe she could learn). If there was room, Alba would quite like a second pool room… And, depending on the ceiling heights, if she could have the central room as an atrium, with the other rooms, spiraling up around, overlooking it… well, that would be great, if it was at all possible.

The basic ideas got swapped around, moved and altered, until there was something Alba was pretty happy with. She stared at her final, somewhat messy, blueprints and nodded, rather satisfied.

Then she remembered she still had to figure out to fund the thing. For a moment, she felt a crushing disappointment, then she figured she might as well ask about one of the funding routes she figured she could probably rule out:

“Gee - you’re a Galaxica Droid - what grants does the Agency give out, and for what sort of projects?”

LEP-GT17 beeped and said; “Galaxica is always eager to invest in its employees, and the thousands of fabulous destinations that they help promote. For example, the planet of Arondia has previously received-”

Alba rolled her eyes - she’d almost forgotten the droid was programmed with information on Arondia instead of Orondia. “Gee, I really don’t need to hear any more facts about a planet I am not on.”

Could droids huff? Because Alba could have sworn LEP-GT17 did. “The planet of Arondia,” The droid insisted. “has previously received a number of grants to set up and further expand on a series of tour holidays. Most recently, the planet was awarded 10,000 credits for a Youth Mountaineering Project.”

Alba opened her mouth to retort, then hastily closed it. She was thinking… Arondia, not Orondia. If her incorrectly programmed droid was anything to go by, it was pretty easy to get the two confused.

“Oh, really? That’s interesting… maybe I should send a message to HQ - requesting an additional grant for a further project on Arondia.”

“Warning: That would be a bad idea.”

“Warning: Try and stop me, or report me, or whatever and I’ll rip out your wires and make ornate jewellery out of them whilst your tin shell rusts away in the dust flats.”

“What an uncouth threat to make,” said the droid.

Alba shrugged. “I don’t know what your problem is anyway - as far as you’re concerned, aren’t we on Arondia?”

“I have reason to believe there is a fault with my wiring. A fault you have failed to fix.”

“Can’t fix incorrect programming, Gee,” Alba said, shaking her head. “Why don’t you just carry on believing that we’re on Arondia, and then we won’t have a problem?”

“Even if we were on Arondia, the funds are specifically for a certain project. A spa would be a misuse of funds.”

“It’s a better use than another tour for rich kids. The people round here are poor and miserable and they really need something to cheer them up…”

“So…this would be a humanitarian project?”

Humanitarian? “Yeah,” Alba said hastily. “It’s a humanitarian project. Which, as you know, is a growing trend in the tourism industry; reinvesting in communities, and using tourism to boost the local economy.”

LEP-GT17 beeped and said: “A Humanitarian Project would be something the firm would be inclined to invest in.”

“Well, there we go, then. We’ll redirect some funding; I’m going to get my spa, you won’t end up a rust bucket in the dust flats, and the people of this miserable corner of the galaxy will have something to cheer them up.”

“Warning: This is still a risky plan.”

“Ah, Gee, what’s life without a little risk?”

“Information: I am a droid. I do not, technically, have a life at all.”

“Well then, what have you got to worry about?”

The Droid looked at her, expressionlessly.

Alba added, with a rather wide yawn; “Tomorrow, you can send a message to HQ - requesting a small, additional grant for a Humanitarian Project on Arondia. We’ll see what they say…”

Technically she could request funding for a Humanitarian project on Orondia, but she figured it wouldn’t get a look in; no one cared about Orondia, and the lack of life or civilisation would have made a Humanitarian Project request look like a cover for illegal activity. Plus - if Alba really wanted to do this under the radar and not involve the company in the profit side of things, it would probably help if they thought the money was going to a different planet… She’d just have to work out how to receive the funds without giving her real location away, but she figured it couldn’t be that difficult.

And then of course… she’d have to sort out building the place…

Still, that sounded like a problem for another day. Alba allowed herself to enjoy her small victory, and finally crawled into bed.

[Puertollano]

Gehena, Orondia

"Commander, sir-sorry ma'am, is that it?" He smiled as he took a seat in a nearby seat. "Sorry, just got some rest. You deserve to be heard out proper, I just needed to sleep. What are the conditions of your ship purchasing deal, I just thought I should hear you out, a top droid like yourself." Vas hung his bag on his seat and quickly motioned for a drink quietly. As it was noticed he said audibly, "perhaps something a bit harder this time, thanks."

Gehena's head pivoted, the sensors glared down on the Mon Calamari. His behaviour was unusual, and with contact made with Nar Shadaar, Gehena thought it better to talk with the proprietor.

"I will discuss terms with you, but not now." Her processors turned. Gehena pivoted to the bartender, whom the Mon Calamari was ordering the drinks from. "The price of his beverages can be tabbed on me," she said, determinedly. "Please, drink as much as you like."

[Greater Persian State]

Orondia

---

Vas's eyes swiveled into two different directions and un-swiveled in jest.

"If this is how the Separatists bargain, I'm pleased already." He smiled and waited as his drink was served-free of charge for him.

He took a sip and thought to himself.

He was warned this droids were immensely intelligent, perhaps he'd already been found out and he didn't know it. Perhaps he was worrying to much. Even if he was found out, he could take a Tactical Droid and two Super Battle Droids. Maybe. Probably not. But his goal was not brawling and assassination, it was intelligence gathering, and perhaps he could get some with this droid. If he played his cards right. He sipped his drink again.

[Derika]

Liehiry walks into the bar. "Bartender, give me a drink. Your choice."

[Cheye]

Natalya Sadaar - The Cantina

Gehena interjected. "Neutrality is a flawed concept, is it not? With the Galactic Republic breathing down the necks of the Outer Rim, the movement for galactic independence and self-determination has never been greater. What I am offering you is an agreement in which both parties are thoroughly compensated." She paused. Her dialogue processors spinned, instead, Gehena offered a new deal.

"Let me present with you a new arrangement, one that may be very fitting. Your Station helps with the repairs of the Munificent-class Frigate, and we will be fully-willing to allow your use of the Frigate itself. So long as my remaining droid forces can activate the communication to the Separatist Council for them to organise and evacuation of our forces. I believe this deal is highly generous, a Station with the arsenal of a weapon of war is unprecedented, the weapons of the Frigate (that are undamaged) are of a war-quality. With the fire-power of a Frigate, you could, and this is up to your own discretion, assert the independence of your Station with force. I don't suppose the Hutt Cartel are good land-lords?"

Nat relaxed slightly in her seat, a thin blue smile crossing her lips as the droid boldly declared its intention to offer her the frigate. As her eyes settled on an unfamiliar Kowakian Monkey-Lizard that was looking around the bar curiously, before it scampered past towards the bar. She didn’t pay it much mind, instead her thoughts raced at the possibilities of what she could do with a warship.

The droid thought she might wish to use it against the Hutts. That was cute. She had made more money for the Hutts over the years than most girls her age could have ever dreamed of making, and although they’d been disappointed to lose her as their asset in the casinos when she’d won this scrap-heap and put her plans in place to leave, they were still flush with enough credits to see her as a useful ally. No, it wasn’t the Hutts she envisioned using a personal battle cruiser against…

Her smile widened as she imagined the look on Sianni’s face too. With Orondia Station as a base, and her with the means to defend it properly, his little operation would stand to benefit as well, and it was his operation that was currently funding her station renovations.

She turned back to Nat Sadaar. "Clankers is a very derogatory term," the Super Tactical Droid said, quite unpleased. "But we would be thankful for support, by B-2 units here need to be recharged and may need diagnostic checks."

“Your B2s will find charging stations on the main concourse outside the cantina.” She gestured to Grish and Grak who hovered nervously nearby still. “Our erstwhile security officers will ensure they are not interfered with should you wish to leave them there.”

She smirked as the Mon Calamari she had spoken too earlier entered and said something to catch Gehena’s attention, the tactical droid’s head swivelling around before she told Static to tab the alien’s drinks to her. That clanker evidently knew how to win friends. Clever.

“As for your offer.” Nat turned her smile to Gehena, once the droid had turned back. “I would be happy to accept those terms. Your ship, in return for help getting it fixed and getting you evacuated.” She rose from her seat, her hand finally rising from her holster as she lifted it towards the droid, a little unsure whether the mechanoid would understand the gesture and respond by shaking her hand… “It’s in our interest to do this quickly though, we wouldn’t want the Republic to find out we were helping you, now would we?”

Across the Cantina

Razius paused focusing his eye and recording the words coming from the pantoran's mouth. 'Neutered Station'. Razius wasn't neutered. Razius needed those parts.

He scampered past jumping onto a bar stool and up to the bar to see a droids serving drinks. Razius needed a drink. Razius wasn't neutered. Razius would sire many. He reached under the counter and grabbed a bottle...

After pouring the Mon Calamari’s drink, Static beeped to himself glibly, making an internal note to open a tab for the Seperatist war droids. The Kowakian Monkey-Lizard was reaching across the bar from a nearby seat, and Static wasn't having that, he wheeled down to where the monkey leaned across, trying to grab a drink and withdrew his shock prod, sending a small bolt of highly-charged electricity into the creature, aimed to give it a small shock and deter it from stealing anything.

"Bartender, give me a drink. Your choice."

Then, as Liehiry approached, the bronze-plated astromech droid whined and let out a burst of static that sounded almost like a sigh as it wheeled down the bar to serve him. Evidently Static, the temporary barman, clearly couldn’t wait for Nat to give him the nod that it was time to shut for the night, or for Oleg, the station’s proper bartender to be back behind bar come tomorrow.

The C1 unit instead then found himself forced to consider which drink would be suitable for the human anatomy. Which drink would offer the most nutrition and expose the customer to the fewest toxins? The droid considered this dilemma for several seconds before turning and procuring a glass with his pincers and then pouring a simple glass of water and placing it on the bar in front of Liehiry, adding two quick beeps that sounded almost like a ‘ta-da!'.

[Greater Persian State]

Orondia

---

Urchuln Vas's eyes bounced in different directions around his two eyes. His mouth slobbered open and closed up with an emphatic THWAP. He knocked over another cup, his fourth so far. His feet kicked around lazily and he routinely toppled over in his chair. Just to get up and put it back. He was drunk, quite drunk. Some time had passed as the night shift continued.

Well, at least that's what he hoped everyone else thought. With drink dripping down his chin, it certainly appeared so. But he was exaggerating. He needed an excuse to get back to his ship soon. Given what he'd just heard, there wasn't much time to act. Urchuln got up and went up the bar. He wiped himself off, and cleaned himself up. A bit clumsily to stay in the act. He spoke to Nat,

"Thanks for tha drank. The drink the drink. That clanker sure knows how ta spend. Ahaha." His laugh was sleepy and silly.

"I've wasted time. Imma, Imma gone up for the daaay shift. Yep, I'll be reaaddyyy. You betchaaa." He straightened himself up.

And uh...you ask that droid if he still needs ma ship. If that's mechanic, if that mechanic isn't ah coming back. I'm all good here. Thank. Thank." Urchuln turned to see the Super Tactical Droid very much still in the cantina. Perhaps the drink was getting to him.

[Derika]

"Heh, thanks droid." Liehiry responded. He started to sip the water as he looked around him

[Puertollano]

Gehena, Orondia

Natalya Sadaar - The Cantina


Nat relaxed slightly in her seat, a thin blue smile crossing her lips as the droid boldly declared its intention to offer her the frigate. As her eyes settled on an unfamiliar Kowakian Monkey-Lizard that was looking around the bar curiously, before it scampered past towards the bar. She didn’t pay it much mind, instead her thoughts raced at the possibilities of what she could do with a warship.

The droid thought she might wish to use it against the Hutts. That was cute. She had made more money for the Hutts over the years than most girls her age could have ever dreamed of making, and although they’d been disappointed to lose her as their asset in the casinos when she’d won this scrap-heap and put her plans in place to leave, they were still flush with enough credits to see her as a useful ally. No, it wasn’t the Hutts she envisioned using a personal battle cruiser against…

Her smile widened as she imagined the look on Sianni’s face too. With Orondia Station as a base, and her with the means to defend it properly, his little operation would stand to benefit as well, and it was his operation that was currently funding her station renovations.

---

“Your B2s will find charging stations on the main concourse outside the cantina.” She gestured to Grish and Grak who hovered nervously nearby still. “Our erstwhile security officers will ensure they are not interfered with should you wish to leave them there.”

She smirked as the Mon Calamari she had spoken too earlier entered and said something to catch Gehena’s attention, the tactical droid’s head swivelling around before she told Static to tab the alien’s drinks to her. That clanker evidently knew how to win friends. Clever.

“As for your offer.” Nat turned her smile to Gehena, once the droid had turned back. “I would be happy to accept those terms. Your ship, in return for help getting it fixed and getting you evacuated.” She rose from her seat, her hand finally rising from her holster as she lifted it towards the droid, a little unsure whether the mechanoid would understand the gesture and respond by shaking her hand… “It’s in our interest to do this quickly though, we wouldn’t want the Republic to find out we were helping you, now would we?”

Diplomatic parameters: running. Her database of 1,2390 species and their own forms of negotiation. The hand shake was perhaps the most common. This diplomatic maneuver would be too easy. The Super Tactical Battle Droid shook her hand, but without the capabilities to smile, she responded. "I am gratified that you have accepted my agreement. Work must begin tomorrow, no later. You must mobilize all labour you have on this station - but please make sure they are not intoxicated while making repairs on the Frigate," she specified. "The Frigate will also require every part you've got in your inventory. To be safe, I suggest you transport all you've got to the crash site."

Sadaar's final quip was typical of an Outer Rim ruffian. Gehena calculated whether she would respond or not. "Your amusing attempt at blackmail is duly noted," Gehena spoke. She ushered her B-2's over to the charging stations, but Gehena still had work to do in the Catina.

Orondia

---

Urchuln Vas's eyes bounced in different directions around his two eyes. His mouth slobbered open and closed up with an emphatic THWAP. He knocked over another cup, his fourth so far. His feet kicked around lazily and he routinely toppled over in his chair. Just to get up and put it back. He was drunk, quite drunk. Some time had passed as the night shift continued.

Well, at least that's what he hoped everyone else thought. With drink dripping down his chin, it certainly appeared so. But he was exaggerating. He needed an excuse to get back to his ship soon. Given what he'd just heard, there wasn't much time to act. Urchuln got up and went up the bar. He wiped himself off, and cleaned himself up. A bit clumsily to stay in the act. He spoke to Nat,

"Thanks for tha drank. The drink the drink. That clanker sure knows how ta spend. Ahaha." His laugh was sleepy and silly.

"I've wasted time. Imma, Imma gone up for the daaay shift. Yep, I'll be reaaddyyy. You betchaaa." He straightened himself up.

"I'm not finished you with," the Tactical Droid said. Marching over to the Mon Calamari. "We have a deal to make, don't we?" Gehena was glad her little ploy worked. The Mon Calamari was intoxicated as all hell, and not in a good state of mind to make a rational deal on the status of his ship. "You have drunk yourself silly, you've really left us with a large tab," Gehena said. "Surely the most you could do to compensate my generosity is to hand over your hyper-drive," Gehena said.

[Greater Persian State]

Ignore

[Greater Persian State]

Orondia

---

Urchuln waddled back a bit as the Droid blocked his path. His mind raced, and he stammered out words. Perhaps dropping the act a bit, more nervous than drunk.

"Look, look, that-that-doesn't make sense. It-it dooesssn't add up. If you want compensation...I can't compensate. I still wanna...hear out about the ship selling. I don't know. It's time to turn in anyways. Iaahaa, I did not get enough rest. Imma, imma gone pass out soon. I need to go aaaa thanks for the drink?" Urchuln awkwardly slowly sidestepped around the droid and tripped his away out of the cantina.

---

As he got out he kept his sloppy walk, but he made it where R4 had already opened the ship. He walked up the ramp, and as soon as the door closed he dropped the act. He straightened himself off and wiped clean his mouth and began to change into new clothes. Once he had straightened himself up he immediately booted up his communications device. He frantically began to transmit his message.

Code: Select all

Enemy asset conducting arrangement with local proprietor STOP Proprietor exchanging repairs for an entire Munificent class star cruiser STOP Asset possesses one such ship STOP Do not believe asset possesses another ship or reinforcements at this time STOP Asset to request reinforcement from CIS command once repairs are complete STOP Speed critical STOP Cover secure STOP


Urchuln sent the message, and passed out on the bed. After all he had quite a lot to drink.

[Puertollano]

Gehena, Orondia

Orondia

---

Urchuln waddled back a bit as the Droid blocked his path. His mind raced, and he stammered out words. Perhaps dropping the act a bit, more nervous than drunk.

"Look, look, that-that-doesn't make sense. It-it dooesssn't add up. If you want compensation...I can't compensate. I still wanna...hear out about the ship selling. I don't know. It's time to turn in anyways. Iaahaa, I did not get enough rest. Imma, imma gone pass out soon. I need to go aaaa thanks for the drink?" Urchuln awkwardly slowly sidestepped around the droid and tripped his away out of the cantina.

"No," the Super Tactical Battle Droid said. The B-2 Super Battle Droids moved in behind the Mon Calamari. "Now is a perfect opportunity to barter for your star ship," she corrected him. "You approached me before about trying to reach a deal, and now you intend to walk away? If I were pessimistic, I would believe you are taking me as a fool," Gehena fixed her left hand on an E-5 Blaster attached to her mechanical torso. "So, please, tell me the price on your ship. Or what you want for the parts tonight."

[Pax Nerdvana]

Natalya Sadaar - The Cantina

Gehena turned to the blue woman. At first, she was reluctant to believe that she was the owner of the Station. However, it was the Outer Rim, and anything was possible out there. Gehena trudged forwards, her B-2's in toe following behind. She analysed the others sitting in the booth, nothing to be too concerned about, yet. Her defensive protocols picked up the gun resting in the hand of the blue female, but Gehena decided not to think too much about it. The probability was too low - her logic processors assumed the proprietor of a Station like this wouldn't shoot their customers on sight.

"Greetings, Nat Sadaar. I am Gehena, Super Tactical Battle Droid and Captain in the Navy of the Confederacy of Independent Systems. My frigate had a mechanical malfunction, causing it to crash land on Orondia. I am highly interested in paying for all possible labour and parts that exist at your station. Once the frigate is repaired, the Confederacy will be willing to pay you handsomely. "

Nat blinked repeatedly. The droid’s voice echoing in her mind; ‘The Confederacy will be willing to pay you handsomely.’

Not even the end of day one and she had already landed an opportunity to make some credits. What was it Sianni had quiped to her when he had last done business with the Separatists? ‘Desperate marks part with greater sums of credits’ or something like that, and half the galaxy knew the CIS were getting desperate now. That was why they’d attacked Coruscant.

“We’re a neutral port out here, droi-.” She caught herself and corrected; “-Gehena, and for sufficient compensation, we would be happy to provide what assistance we can with your repairs.” Nat mused for a moment, looking back to the self-confessed former Jedi who she had been speaking with before the Super Tactical Droid approached. “In fact, I believe my new friend here was just talking about finding some work, either here at the station or with you clankers, perhaps she might be inclined to offer you some manpower?”

Nat didn’t wait for Nivea to respond before she turned back to the droid and added; “Of course, we might also be able to provide parts and the like when our mechanic gets back and unlocks his shop down in the basement, if he isn’t back soon I’m sure Chief Udamos will be able to unlock his workshop in the morning.”

“And how about yourselves?...” She glanced over the three droids, examining their condition. “If you require any maintenance or oil baths, we can probably accommodate that as well?” She smiled, trying to be friendly, although throughout the conversation her hand never once moved from her holster.

Across the Cantina

Dak studied the Quarren, glanced at Jes, who gave a slight, barely visible nod. They drained their drinks, and Dak said,"We'd like to look at the cargo. They both stood up at roughly the same time. Dak thought something might be up with the Quarren, but they needed that cargo. He hoped to Space that it wasn't spice.

The Quarren nodded and gestured quickly past the seperatist droids towards the door to the main concourse. “Let's go!” He hissed, gliding out and beckoning them to follow.

Once out of the cantina, he turned towards the nearby turbolift as a Kowakian Monkey-Lizard scuttled by, heading towards the cantina. Once Dak and Jes were with him, he entered the lift, the three of them taking it down to the hangar level, before the Quarren guided them along the long deserted corridor that led under the main station concourse. There were several large locked doorways to multiple hangar bays, and the Quarren made a beeline for one at the far end of the hall.

“They put my cargo in here when we landed.” The Quarren explained back over his shoulder as they neared the far hangar door. He keyed a code and the large bay door hissed open, the hangar beyond was dingy and poorly-lit, revealing little of its contents to those outside.

“After you.” The Quarren hissed, gesturing them inside as he hovered by the door...

Outside - The Mantis

"I believe he's at his station now." Liehiry responded confidently.

The Gigoran smiled, somewhat relieved, although he clearly expected Kidern to be with Liehiry, he didn’t seem too worried about that answer.

“Of course.” His voice box answered robotically as his native language growled beneath it. “Kidern’s datapad did say that he was taking his speeder, so I assume he will be returning with it separately.”

The Gigoran paused for a moment, thinking.

“In that case, I’m sure he will be back before tomorrow. Chief Udamos instructed me to tell you that a room has been prepared for you on the Upper Concourse, should you require a change of quarters from your ship. Feel free to get some rest and I am sure he and Kidern Karak will come and find you tomorrow to discuss your reward and offer of further employment at the station. I think the new owner is keeping the cantina open late tonight if you require a meal as well, on us.”


--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------


Toydaria Lunar Station - Republic Listening Post

“Captain Cipher, sir I think you should take a look at this.” The uniformed clone’s voice was gruff, but otherwise gave away little.

The commanding officer, who unlike those clones monitoring comms wore a set of ARC trooper armour, minus the helmet, and said nothing in response. He merely extended his hand to take the datapad before turning to glance through the viewport at the dark starfield and green orb of the planet Toydarria that hung in the sky above, before sighing and taking a moment to prepare himself mentally for what would undoubtedly be his next headache.

Being stationed away from the frontline, in what was officially Hutt space, would be a difficult posting for any clone, but operating a listening post out here was even worse. What really stung was that this assignment had actually been presented as an overdue promotion for his long record of service, when in reality it was because Cipher had wound up somebody further up the pecking order.

Now his distinguished service as a much-envied ARC Trooper with the Grand Army of the Republic had been reduced to spying on communications between the various Hutt gangs and monitoring the movements of syndicate bosses and pirate lords who were of interest to the republic. Now the Outer Rim Sieges were in full swing, there was little left in the way of actual war going on in this part of the galaxy, and Cipher resenting the fact that he was stuck here while his brothers across the stars were on the verge of victory.

He shook his head, there was no use dwelling on his misfortune. He was still loyal to the Republic, and he had a job to do. He read over the communication, noting that it was from their alien asset way out on Orondia. Perhaps that was the one worst place you could be assigned than here? Cipher smirked as he began to read.

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Super Tactical Droid on site with battle droids STOP Cover secure do not abort or recover STOP Job secured as mechanic STOP Possible Separatist forces nearby STOP Guidance Requested STOP

Cipher’s eyes widened as he read over the message again; ‘Possible Seperatist forces nearby’ jumped out at him, as did the words; ‘Super Tactical Droid’.

He turned back to the clone comms officer who had given him the message; “Interesting…” He said aloud.

His mind raced with questions. Did the Hutts know there was such a powerful Seperatist asset in their space? How secret was their presence there? How large? Then Cipher collected himself and remembered he was just in charge of the Listening Post, not the whole Outer Rim. His duty was to answer one question and one question only, and that was who to send this intelligence on to.

“Clankers on Orondia of all places, who should we pass this on to, sir?” The comms officer’s words echoed Cipher’s thoughts.

The Captain stroked his neatly shaved chin thoughtfully; “It’s an Intelligence operation, but protocol is to alert nearby republic forces, whose unit is closest?”

“General Vos’s men.” Another clone comms officer answered from a nearby console. “They’ve recently taken Saleucami and have moved to Boz Pity, they’re the closest Republic forces to the area by any measure, sir.”

“They’ve got a planetary invasion to conduct... We’ll still need to pass the message along in case that Super Tactical Droid shows up, but orders from Republic Intelligence are not to bother them unnecessarily about this asset, I think they're phasing him out..." Like me, Cipher's inner voice taunted. "...Anyway, knowing them they’ll want more intel regardless. I think we should encourage him to get us some more information, both for Intelligence, and for Vos’s boys in case they get roped into this...”

Both uniformed clones nodded in agreement. It wasn't strictly speaking their job, but they all knew it was their duty.

“Send back the following.” Cipher instructed and began to pace as he dictated his message aloud...

“Message acknowledged and relayed as needed STOP. Maintain assignment unless compromised STOP. Further intelligence on Seperatist presence required STOP. Without risking exposure ascertain the following DASH Enemy base location STOP. Total enemy troop strength STOP. Total enemy naval strength STOP. Presence of further enemy officers including high value commanders STOP. DASH Beware Super Tactical Droid capable of advanced logic, social and other cognitive functions in addition to strategic capabilities STOP. Update Listening Post within 48 hours STOP."

Dak Stone
Dak's mind was racing, trying to figure out what the cargo could be. He went into the storeroom first, with Jes right behind him. He made sure his hand wasn't too far from his blaster pistol. Jes did the same. They, especially Jes, didn't know if they could trust the Quarren not to put a vibroblade or a blaster bolt through their backs, or set up an ambush inside the storeroom.

[Greater Persian State]

Orondia

---

Urchuln loosened the act.

"No. You won't make a deal. We're not negotiating anymore. We'll speak in the morning, and besides..." Urchuln waved his hand in the air.
"They're gonna shove us out anyway. And besides, Nat won't want a sizzled fish or a pile of metal on her floor tonight. You will excuse me."