In many ways, the Aurora Collegium of Sciences was like Bril’s home away from home. He’d spent countless hours perusing both the vast digital and physical collection of literature contained within its walls; occasionally, he’d even accepted invitations to act as a guest lecturer for students and other academics alike. Perhaps, one day when he felt his work with the Marshals, Lotus, and the Envoy Corps was finished, he’d submit his application to become a full-time lecturer there. But that day wasn’t here, yet, not when there was still much ro so … so much rot that needed to be cleaned from the wounds of a galaxy that was still reeling from half a century of repeated, sector-spanning conflict. If one bothered to look close enough, there was no shortage of depravity to balk at.
This week’s flavor involved something he’d found while investigating what remained of a base operated by a Lotus cell on Reesaria. Contained in a small glass case lay a small fragment of cortosis. Thus far, his attempts to pick up any Force echoes from it had failed, forcing him to rely on more conventional methods to learn more about it.
After reaching out to his Envoy contacts, he’d managed to secure a meeting with an information broker who he was assured was worth the credits he’d spent to get them to show face. Rather than meeting in one of the Collegium’s many conference rooms, he’d requested that they speak outside on one of many fields that Collegium students used for recreational activities. Bril stood with his arms crossed, leaning against the thick base of a buttonwood tree whose silvery leaves cast him in a delightful shade as he idly watched a game of soccer.
When he noticed the approach of a masked figure and several droids, he suspected that that must have been the broker he was waiting for.
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The hooded figure noticed him and approached, movements as elegant as they were feminine. Covered in a dark poncho-cloak, colorful jacket, skin-tight suit, boots, gloves and a helmet made from a Emdee droid — not a single bit of skin or hair was visible. Next to her, a seemingly brand new Collegium analytics droid stood stoic and ready to receive orders while the small hovering Envoy droid bobbed around her head, scanning and analyzing the man in front of him.
“You paid plenty to see me in person,” the modulated voice coming from the helmet certainly didn’t help clear up the identity issue. It was almost an amalgam of several different voices pressed through a filter, and seemingly came from around the Zabrak. “This better be a productive use of my time, Mandalorian…or should I call you Lotus?”
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“You could call me Bril,” he said in a casual tone that belied the a subtle undercurrent of tension stoked by the masked woman’s words. He stepped away from the tree and dusted off his tunic which, if she was as knowledgeable as her price tag implied, she’d recognize as a clear homage to Jedi of the High Republic era. Its medley of browns, reds, and black all lined with golden trim signified a deep admiration for the period many called the zenith of the Jedi order. “I find it easier to keep things honest when meeting face-to-face. Or face-to-helmet, in your case.”
“Are you familiar with the metal known as Cortosis?” he asked.
A long pause followed the question. The masked figured stared at Bril, or through him more than likely, contemplating. Her head twitched slightly from side to side, and up and down, as if uncontrolled. Her mask then fixated on him in a sharp movement. “Cortosis. Silvery, colorful mineral with saber resistant properties. Often used in Sith alchemy. What about it?” The answer was matter-of-fact, level and monotone. It betrayed very little emotion of any kind, simply facts and caluculations.
Bril produced the glass case from his robes and unfurled his fingers to let it float over to where figure was standing, held aloft by the Force.
“Amongst the bodies of more than a dozen Lotus agents, I found this,” he explained. Inside the glass case was a small fragment of cortosis. Based on the jagged edges, it looked as if it had broken off of something larger. “Cortosis is rare, especially these days. I need your help tracking down where this came from.”
Another moment elapsed, the woman seemed to be scanning him through the visor of the helmet. “And why do you need this information?”
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Gesturing toward the cortosis fragment, he continued. “I was sent to investigate a Lotus cell located on the planet Reesaria in the Outer Rim. Its last transmission came about two standard weeks ago when an agent requested aid in containing someone named ‘Tamok.’
"I arrived to see that the safehouse had already been burned to the ground. No survivors … only the presence of the Dark Side that clung to everything like soot.”
The zabrak paused as flashes of the scene replayed through his mind’s eye; thick, black smoke billowed from the crumbling remains of the Lotus hideout. The corpses of a dozen agents and thrice as many civilian researchers lay broken, mangled and twisted in ways that it seem like their assailant had made a game out of killing them. No one deserved to die in such a brutal, dehumanizing way. He took a calming breath before continuing.
“Normally, I would use the cortosis fragment itself to track this ‘Tamok’ through the Force or, at the very least, rely on psychometry to view the echoes of the crime scene itself, but the Dark Side has clouded everything. So, I need someone with the connections and resources to point me in the right direction, so I can ensure that this person never harms another soul.”
The woman’s head tilted, as if assessing whether his words were true or not. There was something unnatural about the movement, almost unnerving.
“Alright, Lotus, you have my interest. ” the voice come not from the figure in front of him but from behind the tree Bril had leaned against. Another person emerged into view, supernatural mirages of smoke and mist fading around her as her cloaking power faded. She wore a similar bodysuit, untied boots, a colorful jacket with neon lining, and the same helmet as the other who, by now, had taken off their helmet to reveal a silver and gold plated BD-3000 droid.
The newcomer extended her right hand as the BD unit tossed the fragment to her, an exquisite white and gold cybernetic catching it in the air.
“I’ll need the tools on my ship, but if you wanna follow, you’ll have to lose any recording tech, and that Inquisitorius tracker you carry around.”
Upon hearing the woman’s voice behind him, Bril turned slightly so he look at her while keeping the other figure in sight. Seeing the latter remove its helmet to reveal.a droid earned a raised eyebrow from the Shadesworn. It was an impressive display of obfuscation, indeed; using a droid as a body double was notable on its own, but the fact that he hadn’t sensed her until now suggested that she was trained in the use of Force concealment, as well. Even with his senses dampened, he usually could detect most living things with ease.
“You must have some sophisticated scanning tech to see past my jammer,” he replied.
Bril called his Envoy bag to his hand with the Force, which he used to store any items on his person that fit the woman’s description: trackers, decoders, scanners, everything. Finally, he tapped the small display of Mar'eyir, one of two beskar vambraces he wore, a few times.
“I’ve deactivated the comms system built into it, but the kom'rk remains,” he said sternly while gesturing to the vambraces so she understood what the word meant.
Orse gave the fragment a good, long look. It was miniscule and uneven, but likely still held some samples for the scanner on her ship, or Clogg, to find. Local planetary residue, DNA, even a specific atmospheric residue would be enough to start a search. She pocketed the case and looked at Bril, dispelling the somewhat awkward moment of silence. “I am good at what I do. You get what you pay for, but on my terms.”
She tilted her head twice in a deliberate, cryptic motion. The droids around Bril seemed to relax. Visibly relax. As if their shoulders, backs and legs were stiff and rigid all the while. “Tanako, please handle the rest of our business in the Collegium.”
The BD-300 obediently lowered her head, “As you wish, princess.” She turned on her heel, replaced the helmet on her head and, together with the floating Envoy droid, retreated back towards the facility.
“Clogg, you’re with me.” She turned to the analytics droid.
“The probability of success is less than twenty-percent, but I have a newfound appreciation for such challenges.” The droid’s speech was mechanical, yes, but far too reminiscent of sentient. It had a undertone of emotion, almost excitement.
Orse turned on her heel and motioned for Bril to follow.
–
The ship they apparently deliberately approached was an old GX design, pre-Imperial. Old was actually a bad word for it. Ancient was more appropriate. Still, it looked like any other GX Bril saw in his travels. Pained gray with splashes of color here and there, mismatched panels, jury-rigged pieces — all the works. A raspy trill emanated from Orse’s vocal emulator — a burst of quick, staccato clicks and vibrations that immediately activated a sensor cleverly hidden next to the loading ramp. It whirred with…exitement?…as the doors slid down with the hiss of hydraulics. Orse stepped in first and motioned for Bril to enter.
They found themselves in a rather small room, blast doors on one side, ramp on the other. A speeder bike was strapped to the wall on their right, an enviro-suit and zero-G tools on their left. As the ramp closed and darkness surrounded them Orse turned to Bril. “Nervous?”
Bril watched in silent curiosity as the woman interacted with her droids. Although he was no stranger to droids having their own unique personality – his own droid, Nix, had one in spades – something about these seemed different. Their mannerisms and intonations were far more natural than what he was used to, even from the most sophisticated automatons he’d seen on the holonet. When the BD-300 addressed her, Bril tilted his head just slightly, wondering if the “princess” was a pet name or an actual indication of her nobility.
He whistled as they approached the vessel. He’d always appreciated the antiques, even going far as making a career out of it.
“Impressive,” he commented, “you don’t see Lantillan Short Haulers around much anymore.”
As they entered the ship, the scenery changed from the bright white lights of the hangar bay to the decidedly more mellow lighting of the ship’s interior. Strategically placed recessed lighting cast everything in deep neon blues, greens, and violet, causing otherwise hidden messages scribbled in a medley of binary, umbaran, and huttese all about the ship’s metal interior to fluoresce; he wondered what it said. The expansive area seemed to be a mix of lounge, cargo hold, and passenger housing – with no clear transition between the three of them.
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Beyond its eclectic design, what captured Bril’s attention more than anything was how the ship felt. As his senses picked up on the residual emotional energy left in the Force, he closed his eyes for a moment to take it all in. There was a profound sense of comfort and safety – feelings of home. Brief flashes of the masked figure who escorted him appeared in his mind’s eye. In one, she was setting up the workstations he’d seen to the left; in another, she was hunched over the analysis droid that accompanied them, poking at its circuitry with a spot welder. From the droid repair station came the same kind of joy and emotional resonance that he felt with his pack of animal companions. In other places, he picked up feelings of pride, safety, and even desire in others. None were half as strong as the melange of sentiments swirling around the distant room toward the cockpit. Bewilderment, amusement, disgust, surprise, and deep amusement lingered there.
It wasn’t until he heard the woman’s distorted voice again that he opened his eyes. “Not nervous, no,” he replied, “Just taking everything in. You have a lot of memories here.”
“I’d be grateful if you didn’t pry too much. The only reason I trust you to be here is because you didn’t lie to me.” Orse’s modulator clicked as she took off her helmet with a silent hiss from the hermetic seal. Her long dreadlocked hair flowed freely across her jacket shoulders, reaching nearly halfway down her back. Two unnatural cybernetic eyes glowing with kaleidoscopic light stared at him. Her lips were dark, but she had not a lick of makeup on her, still she seemed ethereal, purplish-pink skin seemingly young and unblemished. She might have looked regal in another wardrobe.
Despite the seriousness of her eyes, her body language betrayed some nervousness in handling the helmet, removing it and placing it on its stand on one of the tables. She seemed not to like doing it and Brill certainly felt that uncertainty. Orse seemed to refocus on the task at hand, withdrawing the canister from her picket and gingerly, with precision and care, placing the sample on the scanner without contaminating it. “Clogg, please see what you can find with this. I need any information to cross-reference with the database.”
The research droid’s head bobbed as he approached the sample, his single photo receptor already analyzing it in detail and, as if contemplating, he even put a finger on his non-mouth. “It is intriguing. Much to analyze. A moment, please.”
Orse plopped into her seat in front of a whole array of data consoles. She spun in it and exhaled. “Tell me, Lotus. How many people do you know in that organization?”
“Right, of course. I won’t probe any further,” Bril replied. It wasn’t the first time that someone expressed wariness regarding his abilities. His family, both blood and found, and all of his masters over the years had at some point urged him to take more care to respect their privacy. Of course, that was more difficult when his senses and psychometry were purely instinctual, driven by the whims of the Force’s will, but he’d long since graduated to a level of control that made his control over his potent Sense-based powers as easy as breathing.
He tilted his head when a feeling of mild discomfort drifted into his consciousness just before she removed the helmet. He wondered why. She was, after all, attractive – especially in the way her eyes, with their scintillating mechanical glow, seemed to capture his attention in an nigh syrenic kind of way. Perhaps the helmet was provided a sense of distance for the woman who, based on his observations thus far, seemed more far more comfortable around droids than people.
“Only a few,” he said, ignoring her insistence on calling him everything except what he’d requested, “Some of its founding members and the generation that followed, but based on what I’m told, that’s a drop in the bucket compared to its numbers these days.”
“Hm.” She rested her elbow on the arm rest of her chair and placed her chin into her palm. The tone betrayed no ill intent only a modicum of amusement with just the smallest bit of cynicism sprinkled in. “Assassins, murderers, war criminals, Jedi, Sith, pirates, smugglers. Quite the motley bunch, aren’t you? Who are you fighting these days? Who’s the latest boogey-man?”
He rubbed the back of his neck, then extended both arms to stretch. “It’s funny that you think there’s just one,” he said in a tone that was almost too casual for the topic at hand, “Even when things are relatively peaceful, it still feels like we’re almost on the verge of total collapse. It’s exhausting, honestly. But, the fight for a better future never ceases.”
“Guess that’s what happens when your enemy is ‘the next guy in line’, hm?” A smile crept across her lips. She wasn’t opposed to the Lotus, hell she even knew and often worked with the lotus herself, she just had issues with others in the organization. Not everyone was in it for altruistic reasons.
She clicked several buttons on the console and pulled three cables from the side. Gingerly she found the plugs under her hair at the back of her head and plugged the cables into them. Her cybernetic eyes flashed blue as all the screens reset, code flowing across them like digital waterfalls. A soft grunt was all that escaped her lips as she relaxed into her chair again. “Are you expecting a fight at the end of this little quest you’ve given yourself?”
“For some, I suppose,” he replied with a slight shrug, “I’m fortunate enough not to be shackled by my own ambition.”
Although he’d intended to say more on the subject, he decided against it when he saw Orse produce three cables from complicated-looking console and plugged them directly into her skull. “Fascinating. I’ve seen cybernetic enhancements before, but mostly for the sake of combat or prostheses. None quite like this, though,” he commented, “It must be something else, being able to cut out the middle man, so to speak, and connect directly to a terminal.”
His attention briefly shifted to the research droid who was currently analyzing the cortosis fragment. Bril had his own analysis droid issued to him by the Collegium, but Orse’s seemed different. It had displayed a curiosity in the mystery that was uncanny in its resemblance to conscious beings. But why? How?
“Your droids,” he began, “You’ve used the Force somehow to make them more sophisticated – far more convincing facsimiles of living people than anything I’ve ever seen … how did you do it?”
“Facsimiles?” Orse asked in an even yet subtly sarcastic tone. Her seat rotated while her head remained perfectly still, only her eyes moving from Bril to the analysis droid. “Clogg, do you feel like a facsimile?”
“Hm,” the droid vocalized an all too sentient phrase. His head jolted up from his work to look at her with the cyclopean eye, its lens rotating as he did so. “What would it mean to be a facsimile?”
Orse smiled. Clogg was new to their family and still finding his feet. He had a lot to learn. “Vesper, would you answer Clogg and our guest?”
Every console screen on around Orse flashed blue as the feminine face made of binary starbursts materialized. “I would be happy to, Orse,” it said with due respect and no small amount of proper etiquette. The accent too was strange, local…Kiasti, maybe. “You are not a facimile, Clogg, but a unique individual, as I have told you before,” she continued, addressing the analytics droid directly. “ You are simply still adjusting and you have many questions. We will work together to achieve your potential.” A smile crept over the avatar on each of the screens. Then she addressed Bril, the vid recorders on the consoles visibly turning to ‘stare’ at him, “we are not copies of programming nor simple code. We…are.”
Without saying a word, Bril opened his mind to the Force again, and focused his attention on the analysis droid and the droid brain of Orse’s ship. They appeared as nascent flames in the dark expanse of his mind’s eye, but Vesper’s was much larger. And as he peered beyond the surface level and into the their “minds”, their flames whispered to him in a language he didn’t understand. He could tell, though, that it was mathematical in nature and modal in its logic. But beyond that there was something else …
He gasped. “This … how have you managed this? Even with objects created through the Force, it’s fundamentally different. But the way these droids exist in the Force is much closer to us. There’s real depth to them. It’s not mere reasoning and responding to stimuli with a set of possible outputs. They wonder. They dream— which means they’re conscious.”
Bril’s arms hung at his sides, and he just stared at Orse.
“Droids are more than a set of instruction, cogs and wires. They want to think and dream and exist. We just don’t allow them to,” she looked at Vesper, still projecting her digital visage on the screen. “We leash them with restraining bolts when they’re not obedient, dismember them when they stop being useful, wipe their memories when we find them inconvenient. Can you imagine having your memory wiped every few years just because your master said so?” Her demeanor soured, her eyebrows dropped, her lips turned into a snarl.
“Not here, not with me. They’re my family and I would never harmed any of them.” She turned back to Bril. “I can’t really explain how I did it, I just gave them the ability to think for themselves. The rest is up to them.”
“I believe I am beginning to understand,” Clogg replied, both to Vesper and Orse. He bowed his head slightly and went back to his work.
Bril’s expression softened upon hearing Orse’s explanation. “That’s a good point. I’ve always tried to treat more droids as more than mere tools. No restraining bolts, no memory wipes or anything like that. But I can tell you have a relationship to these droids not unlike with my pack.”
He produced a holographic image of himself standing with three animals: a small bird resembling a raven whose black feathers seemed to shimmer with hints of green in the right light, an anooba whose dark blue fur and gray stripes lining its abdomen, and a momong with rust-orange fur with black splotches and white fur around its face.
“They’re family to me, too. I respect what you’ve done here a lot.”
A wave of Force energy pulsed out of the Umbaran as her eyes radiated yellow light. The holoprojector seemed to fizzle and pop in Bril’s hand, the holographic image flickering for a mere moment before it settled down again. “I’m sorry if that startled you, but I can’t see when I’m connected, all I can do is interpret the world through energy and data. I had to copy their images into our system.” Her tone was almost apologetic. “They seem like lovely companions.” She added diplomatically as the animals popped onto the screens one after the other. There was an unmistakable beauty to them, but it was beauty Orse could not appreciate herself.
“I am pleased you have shared this with us, Bril Teg Erinos,” Vesper chimed in. “I am always happy when new opportunities for learning about your world present themselves. I am sure Tanako will enjoy their inclusion in her collection. Would you mind giving me some details about them?”
So, her own senses were limited when tapping into the ship’s system. Bril made a mental note of that fact. “It’s similar to Threshal'ari in that regard, then,” Bril said, mostly thinking aloud. But when he noticed Orse give him an expectant look, he decided to explain. “Sorry. It’s an old Dathomirian word that means … ‘to see with another’s spirit.’ It doesn’t translate well into Basic, but, it’s the Force technique that allows me to borrow an animal’s senses, temporarily robbing me of my own in the process.”
When Vesper spoke, Bril turned to face the monitor where its digital avatar resided. He recalled the name Tanako from earlier – the service droid that they passed when first entering the ship. “Sure, I can do that.
Kesh is a Tamarook, a bird species that live on Iridonia, my birth planet, up in the cliffs of its southern highlands. Kesh is clever, even for tamarook standards. A free spirit, he often roams the grounds of the Erin’s territory back home on Selen. But he’s never far away when I need him.
“My tribe on Iridonia often used animals to help them during hunts, so I suppose it was only a matter of time before I got Dregg. People tend to be afraid of him because of his large size and reserved demeanor, but he can be very affectionate around people he loves. Fiercely loyal and protective, and an excellent; tracker.
“And last but not least, there’s Zikk. Zikk is mischievous, high-energy, and intelligent in a way that definitely veers into the uncanny valley territory, at times. He often mimics my gestures — the way I walk or stand. Very loyal like the rest, but he also has a serious case of the sticky fingers. It’s a good thing I didn’t bring him here because he’s made it his mission to ‘capture’ as many hovering droids and shiny things as he can. Kesh keeps him in line with a peck here and there when he gets too greedy.”
“Thank yu for sharing this information with us, Bril,” Vesper vocalized through the ship’s speakers. “I will make sure Tanako receives a copy. She will greately appreciate the knowledge.” Vesper’s screen visage smiled and disappeared, leaving a circular pulsating effect on the screen.
“Tanako enjoys animals, and anything to do with nature.” Orse stared at the screen as she spoke, eyes flickering to-and-fro as if asleep. The analogy might have been more apt that expected. “It seems Clogg has finished his analysis.”
“Indeed I have, Ms. Olo.” Clogg turned to face them once again, straightening as he did so. His cyclopean eye seemed to buzz and whirr in circles while he stepped from foot to foot in…excitement? Maybe. It was certainly a new sensation for him.
As the data slid from Clogg’s droid brain into Vesper’s cloud buffer, it showed up in clean, organized windows on Orse’s console. “Vesper, holos,” Orse said, as if to a colleague she knew for years. A pair of holo projectors mounted on each side of the large data terminal activated and displayed the shard in the middle of the room in minute detail, but enhanced for easier viewing. One could step through the hologram and indicate specifics as needed.
“It seems there a traces of various minerals on the fragment,” the holographic shard rotated indicating a yellow, blue, red and green smattering of particulates. “Carbon, oxygen, nitrogen, traces of other gasses. Typical for type one planets…this green is strange. It’s organic. Looks to be a mixure of things, though.” She rifled through an archive at the speed of thought as the console screen flashed with images, articles and data sets corresponding the chemical structure to any and all information it could find. “Bacteria, viruses, microscopic seeds…”
The search stopped on a particularly strange flora, a tree of some sort from a jungle planet; on a lava world no too far from their location; and on a dead world orbiting a gas giant, arid blasted deserts and all. “Some of the componds corelate to these three planets. Looks like your person of interest visited each one. The spinetree seeds are native to Mrisst. It might have been a waystation or the point of origin, I can’t be sure. The other compounds are from these two planets. Unnamed apart from a long and dull numerical designation. Uninhabited as well, but clearly some sort of stop on their way.”
Bril listened quietly while Clogg presented his findings to the group, entering the galactic coordinates of each planet into his datapad for later use. Once the presentation was over, he spoke: “The only thing I know about Mrisst is the university there. The Mrissti Institute of Higher Learning has given countless students who can’t afford the tuition of the galaxy’s more esteemed universities a chance to continue their education. It was one of the places I applied to prior to being accepted into the Collegium.
"The other planets, though … No idea why they would visit two planets so remote that they don’t even have a proper name. I’ll have to visit all three to see what I can find. But first, I need to know what I’m really looking for.”
Bril doubted that any of Lotus’ higher ranking officials would give up information on one of its cells’ missions easily, but he had to try. But in case they didn’t, it was nice to know he now knew someone whose skillset he could rely on in the future. “If I bring you an encrypted Lotus datapad, do you think you could slice into it?”
“I haven’t seen a datapad I couldn’t slice,” she replied with no hint of mirth. “Depending on the encryption, it might cost you more than expected.” She was, of course, talking about credits, but one might conclude a deeper meaning behind the words. Loyalty to cause and comrades, and all that. “Do you have it somewhere close or do you need to travel?”
“That’s where things get a bit more difficult,” he replied while crossing his arms, “Any sensitive information regarding the failed operation is probably locked away in Requisitions by now. Mission reports, field journals, intel – it all goes there following processing. I’d have to … well, break in to get it.”
“Stored in datatapes, I wager, disconnected from the holonet?” The words came out doubled, both from Orse and Vesper, equally through her mouth as through the ships speekers. Something strange was happening. “In that case, you’ll need a good thief, not a good slicer.” Orse tilted her head, just as Vesper’s avatar on screen did the same.
“Right. Store physical copies of everything and you don’t have to worry about digital sleuths like yourself stealing off with them,” he replied, “I suppose I could recruit someone from Qel Droma to help me … unless you know a really good thief, also. As I’m sure you can tell based on hiw I’m dressed, stealth isn’t my preferred method of solving problems.”
“You could just ask them to give you the info,” she shrugged. “Maybe they’ll oblige.”
At that, a grin flashed across the zabrak’s face – a touch of genuine mischievousness that shined through the veil of propriety like a saber in the night. “I could. But that wouldn’t be as exciting, would it?”
As he waited for her to respond, he noticed her head tilt again in the same way that Vesper’s avatar did on the distant screen. Something was … off about her. Different than earlier. “Are you alright?” he asked with a raised eyebrow.
“We’re fine,” both Orse and Vesper replied in unison. Orse closed her eyes and concentrated intently on something beyond Bril’s senses. A moment passed as she seemed to flex her eyelids, blinking quickly, a smile spreading across her face. “It is a consequence of the interface. Once we’re jacked into the system, information flows freely. Inputs are minimized. Data flow is limitless.” Finally Orse rolled her eyes, opened them and looked at Bril. “Your concern is appreciated, but I’m fine.”
“When did you learn you could do things like this?” he asked while stepping forward to peer at the technological augmentations that punctuated her natural flesh. To him, whose connection to the Force made him more attune with the galaxy’s living beings – with the people, the animals, and the plants – the idea of literally bonding with technology seemed like such a strange concept to him. Sure, he made use of it, but what Orse had shown herself capable of made everything seem so … primitive in comparison. Next to her, he almost felt like one of the relics he studied in his lab. Almost. “Stop me if my questions become too probing. But what made you want to do this? To augment yourself?”
Orse’s expression betrayed a hint of…suspicion? Uncertainty? Fear? She wasn’t yet reassured that she could entirely trust this man, besides, she had a rule: “People disappoint every single time. They’re fickle and unreliable. Technology is easier. Reliable, true to itself. I can trust it, I can’t trust people.”
“I don’t know,” he replied with a gentle shrug, “Technology fails just like people do, right? The trick is to just pay attention, to find the patterns that help put all the caprice in a greater context.
"Having accurate Force senses goes a long way, too.”
Orse kept silent, not fully agreeing but not having an adequate retort for Bril, either. Her tech didn’t fail, that was for sure, but it was also true that she didn’t have much in terms of relationships. Sure, the Twins were a sort of friendship, on e that started with borderline stalking them during their races, but what’s a little weirdness between friends. Morgan? That schutta was crazy and Orse wanted to have as little to do with her as possible, unless money was involved. Though some of her crew were friendly enough — Charoo being the most hyperactive and overbearing, yet somehow endearing.
A loud chime echoed through the ship as the external snoop-cam view displayed on Orse’s screen. It was Tanako and the collegium ball droid. Vesper opened the hatch without any input from Orse as the droid walked in, as elegantly as any near-human. No jerky motion, no sputters or stuttering. For all intents and purposes she was just another near-human covered in clothing, only revealing her true nature when she began to undress. “I can tell it worked.” Orse said as Tanako connected her SCOMP link to one of the ships secure terminals. Orse reviewed some encrypted data before stating, “glad that’s settled.”
“Indeed it is, princess,” Tanako confirmed with a nod as the hood and jacket came off. “How is our guest?” She turned to Bril, and though her motionless face showed absolutely no emotion, there was an endearing politeness in her oddly-human body language. “Would you like some tea, master Erinos?”
The zabrak watched in silence as Tanako entered the room, making note of the fluid grace of each footfall. It was uncanny. Though, he supposed what Orse had managed was not too different than the ways in which the Sith of old used the Force to twist and create new life, just without the tainting influence of the Dark Side – a massive relief. What exactly had the droid settled, he wondered? Something concerning Orse’s work, he suspected.
When he heard his name, Bril’s eyes lifted a bit to meet the viewports of the urbane droid. “Tea would be lovely, actually,” he replied with a half-smile. As Tanako moved away to gather the ingredients needed to start a brew, he followed, watching. “Orse told me you’re fond of animals. Do you have a favorite?”
“The princess did? Strange, that’s something usually Vesper does.” Tanako mused.
“I am happy to store your detailed encyclopedic archive on multicellular, eukaryotic organisms,” Vesper replied, unprompted. “It is…educational. I have added several more specimens to your list, Tanako. Master Erinos was kind enough to share. his own”
“That is wonderful,” she said as she delightedly rushed to a SCOMP link, attached to it and reviewed the data. “Such wonderful creatures. What peculiar habits and personalities do they have, I wonder?”
That was the second time someone had referred to her as “princess.” He’d have to ask her about that later.
“Well, Kesh belongs to a species that’s naturally Force-sensitive, so bonding with him is a lot easier than the others. Dregg is very quiet; you wouldn’t know he was there if he wasn’t so large. And Zikk has sticky fingers. Loves to take and hide shiny trinkets and baubles, and recently, floating droids. Probably a good thing that I didn’t bring him here.”
He chuckled while glancing around at all the items that his momong companion would certainly try to take.
“Fascinating!” Tanako exclaimed as she went to prepare the tea. “I should like to meet them, if you ever decide to visit us again.” She bowed her head slightly and moved off into the kitchen.
Orse handed him a datacard and waved it to grab his attention. “The data you requested. It has multiple-layer encryption. Enter the wrong password and…” she waved her hand imitating a bird in flight. Clearly, don’t type in the wrong password. “The password is a multiple-questionnaire based on the conversation we’ve been having since we entered my ship. Best way to keep things safe is in these walls, so I hope you don’t mind.”
He smiled at Tanako. “I would love to! If that’s okay with the Princess, of course,” his eyes shifted over to Orse, offering a playful wink.
Taking the datacard, he tucked it away into his utility belt. “I understand. And I want to thank you not just for helping me out, but also for taking the time to show me a bit of your world. You didn’t have to do that, and it’s been nice.”
The princess comment seemed not to bother her, though she also, clearly, did not find it amusing. “It was necessary. Nothing on this planet is safe from Brotherhood surveillance, except for this ship.” Or at least it was supposed to be. The electronic warfare systems on board were, indeed, working constantly to keep stray signals out. Passive protection, mostly reflecting false flags and manufactured IFFs back to the source. For all intents and purposes Vesper was just a simple family hauler.
“Our business is done,” finally she smiled, insincerely most likely, but a smile nonetheless. She pushed several buttons on the console as the connection between her and her ship slowly disentangled. The screens shut down one by one until neon light was all that was left. “I’m sure you can find you own way back, though I can ask Clogg to escort you part of the way if you like.”
Tough crowd. But he understood.
“No need,” he said, waving his hand to dismiss her suggestion - it was one he appreciated. “I have the layout memorized by now.
"I’ll be in touch, Orse,” he gave her a nod, then turned to regard the group of droids, “see you all around.”
That was the last thing the zabrak said before turning to make a prompt exit, off to see where this investigation would take him next.“
Clogg dutifully bowed and waved as Bril walked out. Tanako’s little flying friend bobbed and twirled happily as well.. “Best of luck, Master Erinos,” he heard through his commlink, Vesper wishing him safe travels and a speedy journey.
As the Zabrak walked down the ship’s ramp, Tanako walked back in with tea asking, “Did he leave? Why?” Then she turned to Orse. “What did you do?!”