Private Lock 'em up.

[Schmarmee]

"[I have reason to believe Bhlarpo is the thief now! Or, one of them, at least.]"

Schmarmee wasted no time letting his thoughts out once the door to the small storage room closed behind him. The walls were lined with containers of varying shapes and sizes, most in need of a paint job, and most of them in the right places. It seemed someone liked to shove things through the doorway and walk away with a job half finished. But that was an old matter. There was a new, more pressing problem in Schmarmee's eyes.

Tensions were rising amongst the crew. Their boss, Jericho, remained solely interested in credits while a thief was in their midst. Jericho had threatened to hunt down the thief himself, tear the base and ship apart. But it was an empty threat. Or, that is how the thief, perhaps even thieves now, have taken it. Mostly small, replaceable personal items have been taken or moved in the last few weeks. But when would it end? When would it escalate?

The pale green rodian crossed his arms as he sat down on a white rectangular container against the left wall. He crossed his legs at the ankle and sighed. Narrowing his large eyes, the rodian continued, looking to his droid companion. "[I saw Bhlarpo poking his big, ugly head around Cinko's bag. And now, I just heard Cinko say he cannot find his ear commlink. Bhlarpo has always been jealous that almost everyone else has one, but he just has a regular handheld.]"

Schmarmee pointed a green finger at the protocol droid. "[Jericho keeps saying he will install lockers. He never will. But he won't let me install them, either.]" Schmarmee leaned his head back, imagining an easily obtainable future that would never come to pass. "[It would be so simple... What do you think about all of this, 80Y ?]"

 

[80Y]

Nasally, conspiratorial hoots filled the droid's audio receptors the instant he and Schmarmee had privacy. Dutifully, he listened to what his partner had to say, and processed each suspicion and sentiment as it was delivered.

::Send a broadcast to the group channel, with a priority alert. It will ping each commlink and the sound will help Cinko discover the location of his missing item.::

80Y had a tendency to be more solutions oriented after a long day's work.

::The installation of lockers would increase the level of security over personal items, and reduce the amount of theft. Without the implication of thieves in the group, infighting would be reduced and productivity improved.::

His neck joints made a noise.

::If the predicted productivity increase is higher, or more latitudinal over time than the one-time cost of locker installation, Jericho may be swayed.

Have you brought that up to him before?::

A place to store their stuff would be nice. It would make them feel a little more special, appreciated, and less like they were just pawns waiting to be deployed.

He said half as much: ::Storage for our personal belongings would also improve morale and could increase employee retention. Reducing the cost of recruitment in addition to the productivity spike.::

---

Schmarmee

 

[Schmarmee]

The rodian patiently took in everything the droid said, mouth gaping slightly at the commlink solution. As usual, all good points.

When asked if he had spoken with Jericho before, Schmarmee nodded.

"[I said that this unbound thief is beginning to cause quite the stir. That I noticed half the crew second-guessing each other over even basic things. That some won't leave a room before others, and it is going to waste so much time. Team moral, productivity, I quickly said it all. I didn't tell Jericho this, but when I was on my break the other day, I came in here to get my cantina. Garock was in here eating, sitting right here.]" The rodian patted his hands twice against the container beneath him, before pointing one suction-cupped finger across the room.

"[I had my bag stuffed behind that yellow container. But, you must remember, there was a large pile of white containers in the center of the room that day, so the view was blocked. Garock snuck around them and was ready to hit me because he had his things hidden in the same container my things were behind! He thought I was the thief!]" The rodian held his arms out in exclamation, before folding them again. Schmarmee leaned his head back against the cold metal wall. "[I told jericho it was a matter of time before a fight breaks out. He said every second I spend flapping my lips is another credit he loses. I asked if I could put in lockers myself. For free, after we complete this job. And he still said no before shoving a crate into my chest and telling me to get my stink away from him.]"

Squinting, Schmarmee shook his head. "[He would not think I stunk if someone didn't steal my perfume,]" he grumbled.

80Y

 

[80Y]

::Jericho should listen to his employee's concerns. Soon he won't have employees.::

The way 80Y said it didn't make it sound like a threat. Just an evaluative fact.

As the minutes ticked on, 80Y's solutions started to become less of his first response and he got more comfortable just leaning into the dialogue. It was pleasant that his creative inhibitors were disabled, it let him have more personality. But it was only recently removed, and the adjustment wasn't instant. Old habits died hard.

::It sounds like Garock is more interested in finding the thief than you are. Do you suppose he's cut a deal with Jericho where he gets an additional percentage for his payout if he is successful in apprehending the troublemaker?::

He made a sound that sounded remarkably like a human hmmming to consider his own statement.

::If he has not, perhaps we should.

These are terrible working conditions. Not only do we have any benefits, we risk the loss of our personal items daily.::

---

Schmarmee

 

[Schmarmee]

Once again, Schmarmee quietly listened to the droid, nodding occasionally.

"[I agree with everything you just said! The conditions are terrible, aren't they! It's a matter of time before everyone is over it! And Garock and Jericho... Maybe they have cut a deal.]" Schmarmee shifted, moving to sit up straighter for a moment, then hunched slightly forward.

In times like these, Schmarmee was thankful for 80Y's presence. The last few months have become a bit more bearable since the rodian bought and modified the droid. Having worked under Jericho for years, Schmarmee fell into a state of ignorant complacency. Things just were the way they were, how they have been, and how they will be. Another dangerous job, another day guarding containers full of whatever illegal goods they were moving that week. Another fake laugh at one of Jericho's stupid jokes. Another shoot-out with a client's crew because Jericho felt ripped off even though he was always ripping everyone else off first.

Schmarmee shook his head at the thought. With 80Y now here, thoughts that the rodian had largely kept to himself began to slowly bubble forth. The droid didn't make him feel like he was talking to a wall and became more of a validating echo as time went on. It was beginning to open Schmarmee's eyes. His thoughts weren't stupid, they actually made sense! And they were backed by a droid inherently smarter than himself! So why was he still treated so poorly? Why couldn't he install lockers for the crew? For free! That blasted human loved to get things for free. Stolen or otherwise.

"[Garock has always looked out for himself the most and does very little for the good of others. With personal benefit and credits always being his top priority, he is much like Jericho, so it would make sense for a deal between them to take place... However, any time a thief amongst the crew is mentioned, both seemingly pretend to care or change the subject. Perhaps I should tell Garrock that I suspect Bhlarpo to be the thief. But Bhlarpo will get very...]" The rodian paused, looking for the right word. Upset? Angry..?

"[..Violent.]"

Suddenly, it clicked. A recent memory of Bhlarpo, a large and ruthless gamorrean, standing next to Jericho, a human who was largely talk and used the bite of others to get things done. Garock had more bite than Jericho, but even he wasn't dumb enough to challenge the gamorrean.

"[Wait!]" Schmarmee shot up from his seat as if it were on fire. "[Jericho and Garock can't apprehend the thief because then they'll have to fight Bhlarpo! Bhlarpo is the thief!]"

The door to the storage room suddenly shifted open.

Schmarmee's arms flailed as he attempted to silently throw himself back onto the container in a poor attempt to act natural. He crossed his arms, had one leg stretched out with his foot on the floor, the other leg bent at the knee, foot resting on top of the container in a pose Schmarmee hoped could be summed up as 'relaxed' and maybe even 'cool.'

Bhlarpo entered the room a second later, seemingly unaware of any foolish behavior.

Schmarmee only dared to nod to the gamorrean in acknowledgment, and decided he would say and do nothing else until Bhlarpo left the room. He decided to take solace in the fact that if Bhlarpo had heard what he said, the gamorrean didn't understand rodian.


80Y

 

[80Y]

::They are.:: 80Y reinforced his own sentiment, doubled-down on by Schmarmee . It was the best version of an echo chamber. The droid rarely dismissed his companions concerns. Not because he felt obligated, or indebted in any way, but beacuse the observations were all largely founded in desire for better treatment. And everyone could benefit from better treatment.

::On the last job, where we had to disable the blaster droids, I interfaced with them once they were powered-down and even Jericho's competitors offer medical leave for injuries sustained on a job.:: He tilted his head at the Rodian's elbow. He'd hurt it scuffling with a brute that turned on Jericho's bad terms. It had been so bruised and wroned, that he couldn't lift any crates, and Jericho had the nerve to dock Schmarmee's pay.

Once the dots connected and the conclusion was drawn, everything happened so quickly. 80Y was running unseen programs to parse the data and recall past events with more accuracy than Schmarmee could hope to with his imperfect eye witness accounts clouded by emotion. He fell into a silent trance when suddenly the door opened an in walked the alleged thief. Schmarmee moved in mysterious, fangled ways, that looked more appropriate for a holoflick than hanging out in the cargo room.

It took a few seconds for 80Y to start laughing. It sounded mechanical and unnatural.

Ha. Ha. Ha. HA. HA.

::Oh, I see, I get it now.:: 80Y lied, reverting back to basic for the benefit of their cover and Bhlarpo's curiosity. ::It's funny because you said banana instead of orange.

You organics are so witty.::

He waited a beat. Bhlarpo looked uninterested.

::I will have to forward this message to the others. It's important for morale that we all have an inside joke. I believe this would qualify.::

As he said it, 80Y fell back into his trancelike state. A few seconds later, an alert sounded from Schmarmee's commlink, and Bhlarpo's. Bhlarop's dinged twice. One, a softer chime from a smaller device, the same ringtone Cinko used to use for his earlink.

Anyone who opened the message would only reveal one of the oldest knock knock jokes in the galaxy. Orange, orange, banana. But to Schmarmee and 80Y, it revealed so much more.

 

[Schmarmee]

Bhlarpo paid the two little attention as he lumbered in. Pausing a foot into the room, he faced them briefly before continuing his trek.

But once Cinko's commlink went off, he froze. Bhlarpo stood like a wall in the center of the small storage space. He turned his head to stare at the rodian and droid.

Kark.

If it was possible for Schmarmee's eyes to open any wider than their natural state, they would have. 80Y was apparently more daring than the rodian, but maybe that could be expected when the consequences of your actions wouldn't result in pain. Physical harm, sure, but a droid didn't feel pain, and could always be mended and tuned up. Schmarmee's squishy organic body wouldn't be as lucky. It would be a more agonizing road to recovery, especially since Jericho was the worst when it came to giving time-off for such a thing. Schmarmee's elbow still hurt sometimes and that was agitating and inconvenient enough.

The rodian didn't turn to face Bhlarpo, and stayed staring straight ahead at 80Y. But that basically meant staring straight ahead at Bhlarpo. With his back to the wall and the droid directly in front of him, the gamorrean was only slightly left of center in his vision. Schmarmee gulped.

Act natural, Schmarmee. Say something.

Following the droid's lead, Schmarmee stopped speaking in his native tongue. With no thought, he replied to the droid.

"Orange is the first word I learned in basic."

Schmarmee blinked.

And waited.

Bhlarpo slowly sauntered over. He stopped about a foot and a half away from the two, to the right of the droid, and peered at the two in warning with a snort. Schmarmee's head turned slightly to watch as the gamorrean did so, in case he had to defend himself and his droid companion. He kept the 'relaxed' pose to convey that he was no threat, knowing he was faster than the gamorrean if he had to draw a blaster. As strong and armored as Bhlarpo was, Schmarmee could probably kill him. The gamorrean had to swing, the rodian only had to shoot. But the gamorrean was worth more to Jericho than Schmarmee ever would be. Bhlarpo could lift more, complained less, questioned less, and Schmarmee was pretty sure that Bhlarpo was most often 'paid' in the thrill of combat.

It didn't matter if Schmarmee was a mechanic and had the fastest draw on the team, or that his eyes could naturally see in a way most needed technology to mimic. The gamorrean's presence alone deterred most fights from starting, minus the ones he started himself.

With one more snort, Bhlarpo's display of dominance was over. He turned and walked directly to the container that blocked view of Schmarmee's bag. The gamorrean picked up the rodian's backpack, fished out the cantina, and poured half the contents into his tusked mouth as if it were his own. The bag was dropped unceremoniously behind the container.

With one last squeal, Bhlarpo looked at 80Y and Schmarmee, and made his way out of the room with the cantina in hand.

The door to the storage room shifted closed with a quiet swish.

80Y