In astorage room of the S.T.A.R. Central Nexus, located in the depths of the Arx ocean, a series of muffled bangs, scruffs, and expletives could be heard echoing from a ventilation shaft.
This particular ventilation shaft led to a surface level HVAC compound which helped supply oxygen, heat, and other necessary amenities to the facility. Clearly the Regent had spared the costs by not having these built on-site.
A lone mouse droid, not equipped with any audio sensors, paused as its sensors noted a vibration coming from the storage room. After a moment it determined this was consistent with the normal bumps and shakes given their depth and various aquatic life forms that would occasionally hit up against the hull.
If the mouse droid had decided to investigate. If any number of the mechanical or corrupted soldiers within the facility had been around, they’d have heard a ventilation grill being kicked out onto the floor. The sound of several boots hitting the ground and the appearance of Thran, Kamjin, and Rayne.
“This is bullshit! I don’t know why I let you talk me into this?” Kamjin was dressed in the skimpiest of body suits. It clearly had been cut for a female leaving Kamjin’s hairy legs and arms fully exposed. Kamjin tugged at the crotch as he shook his legs out after crawling down the ventilation shaft.
“What? All the heroines in the Rebreather franchice wore that outfit. That’s actually the screen used costume from Rebreather II: The Deepening so kindly don’t stretch it out.”
“Stretch it out? It doesn’t fit.”
“Nonsense, it zipped up fine.”
Kamjin rubbed at his throat where the zipper had cut into his skin. Meanwhile, Rayne, who was dressed completely appropriately for an infiltration mission, had crept over to the control panel to check if the room was locked.
“This is all your fault. You had this damn AI commissioned and now it’s gone off the rails.”
Thran held up a finger to Kamjin’s lips, silencing him. “I need you camera ready, so focus.”
The utility closet was little more than a mop cupboard. Thran pressed an orange rectangular button and the door slid open. They poured out of the room, like foam from an over shaken cola. The trio bounced off the conduit lined walls of the service corridor.
Thran knelt. He slipped his bag off his shoulder. It clanged off the expanded durasteel grating. He dove into its depth, returning a moment later with a datapad in hand.
“Ok, scene 12, shot 4.” he read aloud “The hero, me” he pointed to himself “and his faithful companions” he gestured vaguely at Kamjin and Rayne “have infiltrated the evil doctor’s facility. They stealthily proceed forward when they’re ambushed by mutant fishmen.”
“What is that?” Rayne asked, drawing her lightsaber.
“The shotlist. The filming on these guerilla pieces is tough, gotta be prepared.” he said, tucking the datapad away.
“Mutants!? I didn’t sign up for mutants.” Kam added.
“Your brain is a mutant.” Thran said to himself, he hoisted his bag and began to move forward.
“Thran…this isn’t a-” Rayne began.
“Ssshh, Do you smell something?” Thran began to stalk forward.
The utility corridor was a dark, dank place. Drips of water echoed from places beyond sight. Groaning steam pipes provided a haunting harmony to the still silence. In the distance, the dull drone of repulsor lifts could be heard. Thran trained his massive, and obnoxiously gold TL-50, in that direction.
“Come Chonto. Protect Chesti.” Thran said.
“Are you talking to me?” Kam said.
“Chesti?” Rayne added
“Chonto…That’s not your line. Your line is ‘Chonto protect strong’. What is this amateur hour? From the top.” Thran rolled his eyes.
Rayne cleared her throat. “Chesti?” She repeated.
“Yeah. Chesti Longlegs. Listen, I didn’t write it. They said the name appeals to the key demo. 15-28 male.” Thran said resetting his posture to where it was before. “Come Chonto. Protect Miss Longlegs.” Thran repeated, adlibbing the damsel’s name.
“Chonto…Protect…strong?” Kam’s inflection raised, questioning the line.
“Yes, Chonto. Strong.” Thran pressed forward.
Rayne secured a dagger at her hip and sighed. It was going to be a long day.
Rayne tightened the grip on her lightsaber hilt, the cold metal a stark contrast to the sheer absurdity unfolding around her. She took a slow, measured breath, trying to filter out the smell of damp rust, cold seaweed, and whatever industrial detergent Kamjin’s “costume” had been washed in. She felt the hum of the facility through the floor, the massive turbines of the ocean depths struggling against the current.
She moved like a shadow past them, her boots making almost no sound on the durasteel grating. Unlike her companions, Rayne was in her element on this mission. She watched the flickering silhouettes cast by the overhead lumens and listened for any signs of movement in their immediate vicinity.
Thran didn’t even look up from his datapad, his thumb scrolling feverishly through what appeared to be storyboards sketched in crayon.
“Look,” Thran said, gesturing to a heavy blast door on his datapad labeled SECTOR 4: PRIMARY COOLANT. “The script says this is where we encounter the ‘Mini-Boss.’ Rayne, try to look more… brooding. Like you’re harboring a secret. It tests better with the mid-rim markets.”
Rayne’s composure broke and she smiled. At least it would be an entertaining mission. They moved towards the main building.
The unlikely trio moved through the hallways of the complex. Rayne occasionally giving Thran a nudge on which way to turn as his nose was buried in his datapad.
Kamjin followed behind, constantly pulling the wedge that threatened his modesty.
Rayne held up her hand then motioned them to the side. Kamjin read the signals, there was a guard ahead of them. Thran beamed.
Leaning in close to Kamjin, Thran whispered behind the datapad. “Scene 15.” Kamjin stared at Thran. “Scene…15…you know.” Thran pantomimed what he wanted Kamjin to do.
“You can’t be…”
“Yes, I can. You will not ruin my vision for this masterpiece. Now do it!”
“Thran!” Kamjin seethed as he plucked out his wedge again.
“Shut up and act!”
Kamjin could tell the guard heard the raised voice. “Fine!” Kamjin zipped the wetsuit down to his navel and stumbled out into the hallway. A lone guard, pivoted and raised its weapon. “Halt!” the voice was metallic and cold.
“Oh, thank you. Thank you!” Kamjin cringed. “I’m lost and don’t know how I got here.”
Rayne rolled her eyes and she watched Thran mouth the next line. “Would a big strong man like you help a damsel like me?” She gave Thran a knowing look that Thran missed in the moment.
“Hands up. You’re coming with me.” The guard kept the barrel leveled at Kamjin as he reached for a pair of binder cuffs.
“Uhh…oh no, what are you doing?” Kamjin fumbled as he backed away.
“Damn, I said no ad libbing!” Thran and Rayne stomped around the corner. Rayne raised her energy bow and let a bolt fly into the guard’s head. Kamjin rushed forward to grab him before he clattered to the ground.
“Remind me to have K'vin firing the casting director. I told her only to get me top tier talent.”
“That nearly took my head off!”
Rayne rolled her eyes as she and Thran approached.
“We’ll fix that in post” Thran whispered. “Watch out Chonto!” he screamed
He turned to a blank space and delivered a flurry of martial arts moves against an invisible foe. The trained actor even feigned his incorporeal rival landing a few blows against him. Had there been a combatant to show down with him, it would have been quite the pugilistic display. The mimed battle went on for a painfully long time.
Panting and playing up the exhaustion of post hand to hand combat, Thran rested his hands on his knees and took in some deep breaths. Puzzled, Kamjin looked at him in pure confusion.
“What the frek was that?” He said.
“We’ll fix…it…in…” Thran said between deep breaths.
“Post.” Rayne added.
Thran snapped his fingers and pointed at her. Having caught his breath, he stood up and looked around. They had made their way into the secure sections of the STAR Facility. Somehow this bumbling cadre of clowns had stumbled dangerously close to facing down success.
“Listen, mutant fishmen ain’t cheap and we can’t pay union rates.” Thran said. “I wouldn’t expect you to understand the intricacies of film making. This isn’t like the law…This is complicated.”
“The Law is very complicated.” Kamjin said.
“If Kevin can do it, how complicated could it be? He’s a dog.” Thran replied.
“Shut up, you two.” Rayne said, a she tucked herself against the corridor wall and prepared her weapon to strike again.
Rayne pressed her back to the cold bulkhead and let the Force stretch outward like a lazy cat down the corridor. Beneath the ocean, everything felt denser. Pressure against the hull, the groan of distant turbines, the anxious flutter of organic minds ahead.
She exhaled slowly, analyzing the situation. “Two guards ahead. Real ones. Try not to choreograph them.”
Thran’s eyes lit up. “Excellent. Practical effects.”
The guards rounded the corner. They stopped short at the sight of Kamjin’s exposed chest hair and trembling bravado.
There was a long, painful pause.
Kamjin struck a stiff pose. “Chonto protect strong.”
The shorter guard blinked, utterly dumbfounded. “What?”
Rayne ignited her lightsaber. Bright white light flooded the corridor like daylight, reflecting off wet durasteel and Thran’s absurdly polished TL-50. She didn’t bother with theatrics. She simply raised her hand and clenched her fist.
One guard shot upward and slammed into the ceiling with a metallic crunch. The other fired wildly. The bolt scorched the wall inches from Kamjin.
“Miss Longlegs, get down!” Thran shouted dramatically, despite Rayne already controlling the entire situation.
She flicked her wrist. The second guard’s blaster twisted into a useless knot of metal. He turned and bolted.
“Oh no you don’t,” Thran hissed. “He’s exiting the frame!”
Rayne extended her fingers and yanked the fleeing guard backward by the collar. He skidded across the slick floor and landed at her boots.
“Where’s the AI core?” she asked calmly.
“S-Sector Seven,” he stammered. “But the security-”
A deep alarm began to pulse through the facility, vibrating the walls. All of them looked up.
Thran beamed. “That is incredible atmosphere.”
Rayne closed her eyes briefly, reconsidering every life choice that had led her here.
Then she hauled the guard upright. “Congratulations,” she said flatly. “You’re our tour guide.”
Rayne came back after a few minutes, leading a bruised and bloodied guard behind her. “Tell them.”
The guard looked at her and decided it was best to immediately start talking. “The AI Core is in S-sector Seven and the…”
“Skip to the important piece.”
The guard cringed from the expected blow. “O-o-of course. The core requires massive amounts of coolant and ventilation to operate. My access can get you into the cooling substation and, from there, you can crawl into the AI core room without triggering any alarms.”
“Perfect! This is exactly what we needed!” Thran pulled out a datapad and began drawing up a very crude storyboard. “Here, look!” He turned the datapad to face Kamjin and Rayne. The series of drawings, mostly stick figures but someone Thran was able to add a skimpy outfit to Kamjin’s stick figure to make it clear he was the primary focus on this ‘scene’.
“We’ll get a lot of great angled shots with this. It’ll really help us with the 13-35 demographic.”
“What 13-35 demographic?” Kamjin took the datapad and swiped through the scene. “How big is this ventilation shaft?”
The guard sized him up, grimacing as he got to his hairy legs and not totally concealed modesty. “It would be tight.”
“Thran there’s no way I’m going to fit.”
“I have a solution for that. Don’t ruin my vision!” Thran snapped the datapad out of Kamjin’s hands.
“Thran, you’re not…” Rayne rolled her eyes knowing what was coming.
“That’s right, emergency entrance plan WD-40!”
Our mismatched heroes stood in the cooling substation. Their guard guide tied and gagged against one of the pipes. Kamjin shivered in his continued exposure now made worse by the copious amounts of lubricant that had been smeared over his body. His exposed body hair sliced down as Thran aggressively pointed to the vent. “Now get in there!”
Moments turned to minutes. Minutes turned to half an hour. “Do you think something happened?” Rayne fidgeted with her saber hilt.
“I think he ruined the whole damn scene.” Thran punched the guard in frustration. As the guard slumped against the pipe Thran marched out of the room. Rayne brought up the rear as Thran went straight for the door to the AI core. With an aggravated gesture the door lock groaned and shattered.
Within the room there were several cybernetically enhanced guards with their weapons drawn. Half were pointing towards the ceiling where Kamjin’s bloodied and still overly greased body, was suspended from the ceiling. The other half turned their weapons to confront the entering duo.
“Halt! Your attempt to shut me down will not be successful”
“This is perfect! Rayne, we’re going to skip ahead to the finale! Quick say the line.”
Rayne sighed. “Chonto, I will save you.”
Thran gave her an approving look. “What a star!”
Rayne unleashed a hailfire of slashes. The guards froze. They wobbled slightly before collapsing into a pile of flesh and wiring.
“That wasn’t in the script, but I like the effort.” Thran said.
“You’re taking this too far.” Rayne replied, brushing the hair out of her eyes.
“I could take it further…” Thran said, suggestively raising an eyebrow.
“No.” Rayne scolded.
“Come on…just a lil bing bang bop?” Thran reached out to gently touch her.
She swatted away his hand.
“Eh?” Thran raised his eyebrows provocatively.
“No. Absolutely no.” Rayne said, turning back to progress the mission to stop the rogue AI.
“I’m the hero, you know. The Hero always gets the girl.” Thran called out to her.
“The Hero gets the girl after they kill the murderbot…It’s in the script.” Rayne replied
It was only then that they were able to survey the room. A massive chamber filled with blinking lights, bubbling flasks, and more electronics than a Corellian Best-Buy. At the Center, a giant holographic head floated.
“WHO DARES DISTURB THE GREAT WIZARD OF STAR?!” the booming voice called out.
Gouts of flame and the buzz of electrical bolts filled the room.
“Damn. That was cool.” Thran said under his breath.
Rayne seemed to silently affirm the statement with a curt nod.
“You’ve done your last math problem, you overgrown calculator!” Thran called out.
“Hey man. Not cool. My grandfather was an adding machine.” the booming holographic voice replied.
“Oh, I didn’t know. I’m sorry. Can we take it again?” Thran said.
“Sure, but don’t be so robophobic this time.” the floating head said.
“Gotcha.” Thran reset himself. “Hope you backed up your files, cause we’re about to hit reset!” Thran said. “Is that better?” he whispered to the giant floating head.
“Honestly, not great, but…”
“We can fix it in post!” the two said simultaneously. Thran put one finger to his nose and pointed at his rival with the other, hooting as he did so.
“YOU CANNOT DEFEAT ME,” the AI boomed. “I HAVE CALCULATED 525,600 POSSIBLE OUTCOMES.”
Rayne tilted her head. A subtle growl in her throat as she shot back, “And in how many of those do you shut up in?”
There was a pause. “…THAT VARIABLE WAS NOT CONSIDERED.”
Thran leaned toward her. “Okay, this is great banter. We’re keeping all of this.”
Above them, Kamjin dangled from the ceiling, “Could someone maybe prioritize the part where I’m rescued?”
Rayne didn’t look up, “You are a terrible damsel in distress.”
The AI’s hologram expanded, filling the chamber with crackling light. “I CONTROL THIS FACILITY! ONE BY ONE, I WILL TURN OFF KEY SYSTEMS! YOU ARE AT THE BOTTOM OF THE OCEAN! YOU WILL ALL PERISH! I AM INEVITABLE!”
Rayne finally stepped forward, her eyes scanning the room for details. Not on the hologram, not the dramatic lightning, but the actual machinery itself. Massive coolant lines fed into a central processing column. A power conduit ran along the wall into a very obvious main junction box labeled:
PRIMARY POWER - AI CORE Maintenance Access. (Nothing to see here)
She stared at it. Then she looked back at the godlike digital apparition again.
“YOU CANNOT EVEN REACH MY CORE WITHOUT BYPASSING ONE HUNDRED TWENTY-THREE ENCRYPTED FIREWALLS,” it taunted.
Rayne walked to the junction box on the wall.
“WHAT ARE YOU DOING?”
She opened the maintenance panel. Inside was a single, enormous industrial power cable with a glowing indicator strip. She traced the cable to a big gray lever.
The hologram flickered harder. “DO NOT-”
Rayne pulled the lever. There was a descending whine. The lights dimmed. The flaming effects sputtered into now sad sparks.
“NO! NO! THIS IS NOT HOW CLIMACTIC CONFRONTATIONS WORK! YOU MUST ENGAGE IN CYBER WARFARE! OR AT LEAST A SYMBOLIC BIG RED BUTTON PRESS!”
The hologram blinked once. Twice. Then vanished with a soft, pathetic pop.
“Thanks, yes. You all did amazing work. We’ll want to store all of this for the eventual sequel.” Thran was busy shaking hands with the assorted Arx employees who had come in to dismantle the AI.
Rayne sat off to the side in a wood and cloth folding chair. Her name was embroidered on the back in the finest thread count. A refreshing spritzer in her hand. K'vin stood nearby handing her papers. “and…this one is to authorize the release of your new head shot. The agents are blowing up my holopad.”
Rayne casually took the paper, shuffled it to the other side of the chair and let it drop. The pile was starting to climb up.
“Is that K'vin? Tell him I want to ensure there’s a profit share here on the gross and I get the rights to all merchandizing. That’s where the real money is going to be. Can you imagine how excited the kids will be under the Life Day orb when they unwrap their own little S.T.A.R. AI with action phrases and remote datalink?”
Rayne patted K'vin on the back and sent him off towards Thran. After hours of dismantling the last crate was sealed and shuffled out of the room. “That’s a wrap on principle.” Thran put his arm around Rayne as they turned the lights off and walked out of the room. “Anything now we’ll just fix in post.”
As the door slid shut a parched voice spoke out. “Guys…anyone…can you get me down now?”