Faction A night out on the town

[Lesya Kosarev]

Lesya journeyed through the crowd of Nar Shadda clad simply in a form fitting black outfit with a hood over her head. Why she had come here was anybody’s guess for somebody so broken being in a crowd would be the last place anybody would look for her, perhaps that is why she sought refuge among the masses. Taking a turn down a side corridor she wandered into one of the sketchier sides of Nar Shaddaa, perhaps her intent all along even she was not sure, still she continued on. It was a foolish risk but she really did not care, almost as if she was daring the galaxy to try to kill her. She would get her wish momentarily when she was hit by a stun baton and a hood thrown over her head before being dragged off by a group of armed men. The stun baton didn’t even really phase her, but she pretended as such and they quickly had bound her hands. For the moment she didn’t fight back she would let them drag her to whatever served as their hideout. Had this been her intention? To find some thugs to take out her anger on, to bathe Nar Shaddaa in blood it was a worthy question, but she did not have the answer. When the hood was finally taken off and she saw where she was her eyes scanned the room taking in everything she saw, different cages containing people, mostly aliens it seemed, a slavers outfit not surprising considering where she was. What was surprising is they had grabbed her without checking what she was one of them paused when he looked at her face and saw the lines separating her features.

“Shes a cy!…” as he began speaking she snapped the binders off her hands and his panicked words were cut off by her reaching out and grasping him by his throat, promptly she lifted him off the floor and with flick of her wrist snapped the man’s neck. This of course drew immediate attention of everyone else in the room and she threw the lifeless man in her grip into the group of slavers that were closing in on her at the sudden exclamation, this further caused chaos in their ranks and she used the moment to run at them at full speed, much faster than a human was capable. Panicked blaster bolts flew past and around her one hit her arm, and another flew past her face narrowly missing but she could feel the heat from it, but it would not be enough. One man was grabbed by his face lifted off the ground and then slammed as hard as she could manage into the floor he would not be moving again. She then turned and ran her fist through the chest of another man who simply ceased moving as she unceremoniously dropped him from her arm and let the body fall to the floor. She stood picking up a pair of blaster rifles from the pooling blood at her feet. The remaining slavers in the room turned and ran toward the exit door to the room too panicked to even open the door properly, she would ease their suffering she fired a single shot at the backs of both men and then turned and fired at one of the cages holding the slaves “Run” it was all she had to say, then she turned and fired at the other cages before heading deeper into the slavers hideout.

 

[Tyrias Aran]

As Lesya ran further in, the freed slaves sought to flee fast as they could. They didn't get far before those at the front came to a sudden stop, muscles tense with indecision for just a moment.

"Keep moving." While a rebreather mask hid the lower half of her face, the blue skin and glowing red eyes visible were unmistakable. The Chiss tossed a thumb back over her shoulder as her boots carried her ever closer.

As the slaves darted by, the black-garbed woman strode into the room they were eager to vacate. She paused to survey the area noting the condition of the the slaughtered slavers. One of the corpses in particular caught her eye and drew the Chiss toward it. Using the tip of her boot, Tyrias rolled the body over to get a better look at the wound. Strange wound. Blunt force trauma impact given surrounding tissue damage, but the amount of force necessary...

Tyrias' eyes lifted in the direction Lesya had gone. Her right hand rested atop the pommel of a blade at her hip.

Looked like something other than herself was eager to polish its skills on Nar Shadda. Perfect place to do it. A lawless land where the only thing you had to free was reprisal by whoever the gang leader was -- assuming you didn't kill them. Allies? If the battle ended soon enough the so-called Allies would simply claim the emptied territory. Though they would try to kill you if found within a few days. After all, they wouldn't want a visit from you either.

The lower lids of the Chiss' eyes pulled upward as a smile blossom behind the mask. Looked like her vacation was going to be a fun one after all. With that buoyant thought held close to her heart, Tyrias strode forward to find the blood thirsty creature or whatever slavers she hadn't found yet.

Tag: Lesya Kosarev

 

[Lesya Kosarev]

Lesya was traveling down a long corridor the path behind her stained with blood and the corpses of former slavers. More and more kept coming at her and she dutifully used the blaster rifles to put as many down as she could, eventually she pulled the triggers, and nothing happened. She huffed as another group rushed her some with swords some with blasters, she hurled one of the blaster rifles at one man and hit him square in the face, the spray of blood was impressive. Another closed the gap and got in close to her, for his courage he got the butt of a rifle to the face and staggered back before Lesya kicked him hard into the wall a sickening crunch following the impact. She spun quickly back around and brought he other blaster rifle down on another mans head and shoved him away letting go of the blaster rifle that was firmly lodged in his skull. The hallway now empty save the dead and her, she exited into another room which housed many thugs with guns and somebody she assumed was the boss they were arrayed around her in a futile attempt to surround and overwhelm.

She paused a moment and look around the room taking stock, her blonde hair stained with blood and her cloak ripped and several blaster marks on her augments and more than a few burns on her flesh from blaster fire. Taking stock quickly, she was still functional, and nobody had started shooting yet. She stared at the one who was presumably the boss. From each forearm a blade extended about two feet long and about an inch and half wide. She rushed the middle before they could even react but they quickly recovered and opened fire, fortunately some of them were not that bright and fired at her hitting their allies across from them. One man rushed to cut her off and she simply kicked him to one side and then leapt at the boss crossing the blades in front of her and cleaving the mans head off in a single stroke before turning when her feet landed on the ground and lunging at the rest of the guards. Aside from the sound of blaster and the screams of dying men not a single word was spoken by her, she took a few more blaster shots to one of her arms and it hung limp losing all functionality but she was still able to fight launching herself at the remaining guards she grabbed one and threw him out of the window leaving him to fall to his death. Spinning quickly, she grabbed the last by the throat and snapped his neck before throwing him into the hallway, the sound of boots running down another corridor toward her caught her attention she was about to be overrun. She kicked over what once had been the bosses desk and took a defensive position picking up a nearby blaster with her one good arm. She had not realized but she took a few more hits during the battle than she thought one leg was hit, functional but damaged none the less and in the course of it her right eye was hurt how badly she wasn't sure, she also felt fatigue setting in. She was not totally machine and the one woman siege had been going on for some time now.

Tag: Tyrias Aran

 

[Tyrias Aran]

It hardly took a Chiss to follow the path of blood this murderous, yet freedom-loving monster left in its wake. Some would be inclined to think there was more than one person involved. How could one person do so much damage? Tyrias was not so easily misled, however. Obviously there was only one given the footprints in the blood -- only one set with one weight distribution. Her own footsteps were measured and as quiet as possible to avoid alerting the blood thirsty person she stalked them.

The music had fallen silent as the prowler neared the door to the boss' room. Tyrias made no move to peek around the corner, as the sound of bloodshed and blaster fire soon resumed its frantic pace. Screams and cries of horror and rage followed a desperate bid to survive. One they failed given the body flung back out into the hallway only for it to crumple lifelessly to the floor in full view of the Chiss observer.

Tad disappointing, really. Not a single Slaver aside from those at the front door? A greedy and effective killer, whoever this was.

Sound of 'reinforcements' pounding ground filled the air before the women could meet. Well, much fun as it would be to risk being killed the second she set foot in the room, only to be trapped inside with the killer, Tyrias had a better idea. She turned and strode back the way she'd come.

She turned around a corner and stood patiently for the clomp of boots and shoes to come to a sudden halt outside of the room. At this point they would be discussing their plan of entry. Their leader would be incensed at seeing the carnage and knowing their boss was probably dead. If they survived, maybe he'd take command. Always a silver lining among criminals -- unless the replacement wasn't half the leader the last person had been.

Tyrias reached behind her, pulled out a thermal detonator and depressed the activator. One. Two. Three. Four. Throw.

The first one or two had begun to step through the door, crossing to take up position on either side of the room for coverage when the spherical device sailed through the air. It didn't even come close to the ground before the grenade detonated. The concussion would knock the two spared the full effects of the explosion into the room and off their feet.

In no particular hurry, the Chiss strode back down the corridor toward the boss' room once more. She paused in the doorway and turned her head side to side for a moment. Unlikely they would have survived, but you don't make that assumption if you wanted to survive yourself. A moment later she turned and looked into the room and at the desk that had been flipped over. Wonderful. So whoever or whatever it would have survived; and possessed some manner of intelligence.

"I would have preferred something more personal," Tyrias said aloud as she idly juggled a dagger in one hand. "But I didn't want them shooting you before we met. Nice job freeing the slaves, by the way."

Tag: Lesya Kosarev

 

[Lesya Kosarev]

The explosion was unexpected, more so the deafening silence following it, she paused a moment before she heard somebody talking to her, not trying to kill her. She peered over the desk like a cautious animal seeing if it was safe to come out her eyes watching the being across from her. She seemed to have no hostile intent disregarding the knife she played with in her hands. Deciding finally she stood up, her right eye had a cut above it blood running into it forcing her to keep it closed, her hair and armor likewise were covered in blood and her general appearance was disheveled. Through it all she would be able to make out multiple military grade augmentations, though her left arm hung limp and her her right leg was slightly bent which made standing slightly awkward.

”It was not the goal, they attacked me, i responded. Rescue was...” she paused a moment as if thinking of the word “a secondary objective” it was a cold statement but only partly true it. True it had started off as a purely defensive action until she realized they were slavers, though it was different she thought it a similarity between what was done to her and depriving one of their freedom and that motivated her to further action. With her good arm she threw the blaster aside and reached down moving the desk out of her way so she would not have to go around it. “Time to go” she slowly moved toward the Chiss intending to go back the way she came uninterested in further conversation. She kept a wary eye on her but continued to not regard her as a threat

Tag: Tyrias Aran

 

[Tyrias Aran]

Cyborg? The Chiss regarded the woman from head to waist with the desk in the way. Augmented, at least. There was something 'off' about this one, however, which had Tyrias wondering how much remained organic, or whether the person suffered some manner of mental side effects from the procedures. Some would worry about losing one's "humanity" undergoing such pervasive modifications. A Chiss wouldn't worry about that at all -- in fact there might be a pleasant marrying of non-Chiss and technology that would make them more... pleasant to deal with.

For example, a Human could have easily take credit for being a liberator under the circumstances. Claim they'd intended to get captured, brought into the facility, and then dismantle the operation from within. Effective. Fraught with risk as they could have easily uncovered her nature sooner -- though a Cyborg could be useful to the right buyer. This woman made no effort to take credit for the 'secondary' objective. She simply sought to neutralize a threat.

"Laudable." Annihilating the enemy was a response. It was not the typical response, however. What motive did she have to risk her life killing them all?

Not that the woman seemed interested in prolonged conversation. Tyrias caught her dagger and slid it back into its sheath along her arm. The Chiss pivoted and took the lead down the hallway in no particular hurry while the Cyborg's own gait was hampered.

"Who do you work for?" Tyrias called back without turning her head. Apparently the woman wasn't a vigilante looking to make Nar Shadda a better place. A capable soldier. One that had no problem waging a one-woman war on a slaver operation in hostile territory. Lone agent? Her skills could prove useful if she was available and interested.

Tag: Lesya Kosarev

 

[Lesya Kosarev]

Lesya hardly paid attention to her at this point as she warily stepped over the mess she made in the hallway before stopping and leaning down to hit her leg hard with her hand trying to force it to move right. She lifted her leg and tested its ability to move, it functioned well enough for now but running would not be advisable until it was properly fixed. Scanning ahead of her with her one currently open eye to see what lie ahead before quickly settling on the chiss in front of her. A part of her was still unsure what to make of her or why .

“I don’t work for anyone” She shook her head slightly before looking away “The ones who made me… died” there was a bit of anger in that last statement mainly when she uttered the word 'made' it was almost as if she choked on the word perhaps the first tiny bit of emotion that she would show, perhaps the only bit of emotion she was capable of, whatever had damaged her was severe. As they walked and mainly Tyrias talked she attempted to do what she could for her left arm, trying to get it to at least move again, but for her ability in combat repairs were beyond her as made evident by her repair attempts resembling more of poking at it or hitting it. Then suddenly she thought of something but at the same time she wondered why she asked. She didn’t care, did she? “Who are you?” giving up on the arm she directed her attention toward the Chiss again, she quickened her pace a bit she almost seemed inquisitive suddenly. “Who do you work for?”

Tag: Tyrias Aran

 

[Tyrias Aran]

Free agent. Civilian? Refugee? Wayward soul? The worlds outside of the Ascendancy were chaotic. People here had no respect for themselves, so they had no respect for others, the world around them, or the factions to which they belonged. Deplorable. Too much for the Chiss to correct; they could conquer the worlds and over a thousand years perhaps educate them to rise above their weakness -- if it benefited the Ascendancy to do so. Otherwise, what reward would they receive? Knowledge of improving the worth of others only went so far. Empires had limits on their resources to balance with ideological desires.

Ones that made her? Tyrias found the sentiment telling. Then it was not something she'd sought out. The woman might not appreciate being told those she killed had been quite skilled. Perhaps a sad loss for the galaxy that they'd been slaughtered. On the other hand, if they'd abducted this woman then the Chiss might have found working with them untenable.

"And you don't remember anything before the procedure." There was no need to ask if that was the case, Tyrias deduced as much. Traumatic procedure that left an enraged cyborg that killed her creators for their effort. Not the first time it had happened in the galaxy. They lacked proper containment protocols -- like so many others. Such scientists should take greater precautions, or hire someone competent to ensure their operational security.

Surprisingly, the woman spoke up and asked a question of her own. Tyrias was beginning to think the cyborg had forgotten the fundamentals and lacked any shred of etiquette. For the Chiss' part, she'd neglected introductions in the slaver leaders' room and awaiting the Cyborg's reaction. "Tyrias. I'm on vacation, so I work for no one. Normally..."

The blue woman stopped and began to turn around. The fingers of her right hand reached up to the dagger along her left arm. In one fluid motion, the blade was drawn and thrown in a blink of an eye. It sailed over Lesya's shoulder and sunk into the throat of man that propped himself up against a wall and had been struggling to lift their blaster. With a soft hum, Tyrias strode back toward the figure to retrieve her dagger. The blade was wiped off on their outfit so the blood didn't etch the metal.

When she returned, the Chiss stopped to look over at the battered Cyborg. "Confederacy of Independent Systems. Have you heard of them? There is a Minister of some renown that is a Cyborg. You may find him trustworthy for maintenance and," Tyrias paused to indicate Lesya's present state with her red eyes, "repairs."

Tag: Lesya Kosarev

 

[Lesya Kosarev]

Lesya visibly winced when she mentioned the procedure, and became quiet again, were she a droid you might liken it to a self-shutdown. She looked down a bit while Tyrias gave her name somewhat distant, but she nearly jumped when Tyrias suddenly turned and flung a dagger at Lesya or at least she thought as much she quickly dropped into a stance ready to rush her but then stopped when she realized the dagger was not meant for her. She waited only a fraction of a second and then turned looking to where the dagger had gone, she was able to see the dagger sticking into the neck of one of the guards. She blinked a couple of times a slightly confused expression on her face before she relaxed and turned back to Tyrias.

The words she was looking for should have been thanks but in her own way it came out to “Good throw” she listened as she told her of the confederacy and this Minister she spoke of, a cyborg like her? It intrigued her but not enough for her to venture out. When she mentioned he could repair her though she looked down at her arm and thought for a moment weighing carefully what it would mean, she did need repair but then what would they want in return? And if what she knew of the Confederacy was true she could do far worse. Closing her eyes, a moment before finally nodding her consent. “I know some of your Confederacy.” she shrugged, she knew a few of the major players in the galaxy mainly enough to know who not to cross. “Mostly good things” she started walking again but then she stopped and turned her head slightly back to Tyrias “I am Lesya”


Tag: Tyrias Aran

 

[Tyrias Aran]

"Mostly," Tyrias agreed. "There are some that claim the Confederacy is responsible for genocide. An accusation that is categorically refuted." If Lesya had not heard of that, she would have eventually. No point hiding it behind a potted plant hoping it would go unnoticed.

A faint smile touched Tyrias' dark blue lips when Lesya introduced herself. "Lesya. It is good form to introduce yourself to allies and enemies."

"Do you require assistance? Someone you trust on the planet?" Lesya hadn't jumped at the chance to take advantage of the Confederady's services just yet. Perhaps there was a trusted soul on this rotten moon she favored? Or perhaps she intended to find a nice, dark corner and fend for herself. Tyrias was not in favor of the latter option. "I can help you get that far, if you prefer to remain here."

Perhaps Lesya was too much of a loose canon. However, there was potential in the cyborg that had Tyrias interested in having her brought back. Introduced to the right people perhaps she'd find her footing somewhere that wasn't as putrid as Nar Shadda. A Chiss never liked to waste talent, after all.

Tag: Lesya Kosarev

 

[Lesya Kosarev]

Lesya listened while she walked ahead of Tyrias, who apparently was being honest about the Confederacy most people would have thought to hide such information. Then she commented on her introducing herself she also glanced over her shoulder at her noting the smile. “I will keep that in mind” was all she said before turning forward again finally leading them out of the blood-soaked corridors. Shaking her head, she spoke again “I trust nobody. People I could work with? Possibly. People I would tolerate for repairs or supply? None.” clearly she had nothing tying her to Nar Shadda then she turned and looked at Tyrias dead on her eyes meeting hers.

“You say I should come to your Confederacy, that they can help me.” she paused a moment thinking before tilting her head “Nothing is free” she declared as she folded her arms in a challenging way as if saying I dare you to prove me wrong. Though even in asking the question she admitted to Tyrias she was considering it and not dismissed it outright, the young Cyborg in the light showed more signs of fatigue than the dimly lit corridors of the slaver den, the battle more intense than she had perhaps bargained for.

Tag: Tyrias Aran

 

[Tyrias Aran]

Tyrias had been forthright in an effort that others, unbeknownst to them, would cement the fact that the Chiss -- if no one else -- was honest and had not tried to hide something most would consider suspect or outright deplorable. If that took an hour or a year, eventually that narrative would touch the Cyborg's ear; and in that moment know Tyrias took no effort to keep it out of the woman's decision to venture into their territory. Though certain calculations were made with regard to whether she should or which narrative to pick.

That the battered woman had taken the lead was filed away, but meant little in the moment to Tyrias. Not so distrusting she expected a knife in the back. Not being the target of a dagger flung through the air at one of the risen guards likely had that effect. Despite Lesya's lead, there was no expectation she'd suddenly gotten a second wind, however. The change in lighting would only reinforce the poor state battle had left her in. No chance she went without medical and restorative attention -- despite her complete lack of trust in qualified personnel.

The guards once loitering out front had been passed further in the entry hallway. While it was Nar Shadda there was no need to inform friend or foe of these slavers their territory was up for grabs.

Twin, glowing red eyes stared back at Lesya when they stood before one another free of the cesspit. A slight smile patiently awaited the Cyborg's thoughts. A concern for one's well-being in entrusting herself to the purported faction of someone she'd just met was reasonable. In fact, Tyrias would be concerned if that thought had not concerned Lesya at all. "Whether something is free or not is immaterial. Whether the cost is reasonable and the circumstances manageable is all that matters," she replied calmly. "The Confederacy presents itself as a coalition of planets united in ensuring their own stability and safety in a turbulent and chaotic galaxy. It is not a charity, though it often sends its fleet out into the galaxy to support those of similar pursuits so long as they are not the aggressor. How this concerns you," Tyrias got around to stating as a prolonged civics lesson might not be received well as Lesya suffered, "is they could use someone of your skills."

The Chiss tilted her head a bit to one side, "They'll restore you to full health, then offer you the chance to explore and consider whether you wish to stay. You will be free to decline. I have little patience for people that say one thing and do another, so if they attempt to restrain you I will command my ships to secure your extraction." That... would be a court martial offense, of course. Tyrias could not bind herself to such an aggregious violation of principle, however. Her personal word was being given here to the Cyborg she would be free to leave should she choose.

"You will find they are a faction that touts the benefits of technology and droids. Unlike the Sith Empire or the Jedi, there will many opportunities for a Cyborg in the Confederacy," Tyrias added as something a little more personal to Lesya.

Tag: Lesya Kosarev

 

[Lesya Kosarev]

Lesya simply listened to Tyrias as she spoke and, in her mind, she ran over he options, as it stood, she was too damaged to fight. And the odds of trustworthy repair and medical on Nar Shadda were quite honestly near zero, more likely she would be ripped apart and sold as parts or repaired enslaved and put to work by the Hutts or something more off putting than even that. Her green eyes never parted from Tyrias own but she would be able to clearly see Lesya was considering in detail her options. She absently reached up and twirled a strand of hair between her cybernetic fingers, the first real human action she had exhibited in their short time together, a nervous tick most likely. Putting so much faith into an individual she had just met was foolish more so in a faction she is unfamiliar with, who might give her a purpose with this body she was forced into but still was it an option she wanted to take.

She huffed slightly as if irritated by all the thinking and her hand dropped back to her side almost in defeat. “Fine, lead the way. I will see for myself this Confederacy but you should warn them they should try to restrain me before fixing me” As for her word Lesya would see what it was worth. Finally, she relented moving aside to let Tyrias walk past and she looked down a moment several blond strains of hair falling with the movement, she was still considering things though not as intensely as she had. Not since she escaped the lab did she have to come to terms with being around a group of people that she did not know nor did she care to. That last part did stand out to her, droids and technology she may be less outcast there and that would make for a very nice change of pace instead of being treated like a droid by others. “That does not sound bad” she uttered perhaps unintentionally perhaps not but regardless she would follow Tyrias and see what this confederacy was about.

Tag: Tyrias Aran

 

[Tyrias Aran]

Restrain her? A curious request under the circumstances, but then there must be a reason. Tyrias gave a slight nod of her head in response. With no reason to refute it, the warning would be passed along. Perhaps it had to do with her overwhelming desire or need to wipe out all of the slavers simply to escape their grasp.

Mindful of Lesya's hampered movement, the blue woman strode forward down the metal street of Nar Shadda. "Unlike this moon, there are many environments and a sustainable supply of resources." Not that a Cyborg might prefer a sunny world or suffer from seasonal affective disorder. The variety of environments and lack of daily struggle simply to stay out of a slaver's pen, however, would some worthwhile benefits.

The only disappointing thing, really, was Tyrias' vacation in hunting scum would be cut short.

"I will take you directly to Geonosis, the Capital, where you can be repaired." While the Cyborg was not asking endless questions, Tyria volunteered some information to stave off some of the concern that would be natural to develop over time. Second thoughts and doubts. Whether Cyborgs suffered from those, Tyrias couldn't say. She worked with and appreciated the efficiency of droids -- but did not know how they worked, or the hybrid cousins like Lesya.

The Chiss walked at her full height and daggers sheathed along her arms through the streets. A casual, long stare from time to time helped keep loitering elements lounging back against the wall they claimed. Much fun as it would be to drop three to five men or women one after the other, Lesya didn't need any motivation to go wild again. A short time later the two women strode up to a heavy starfighter. While far from a luxury yacht, it would ferry the two of them with relative comfort to their destination.

All it took was some flicks and pressed to get the navi-computer course after lift off to get them on their way. Hopefully the woman's wounds weren't life threatening. Lesya hardly seemed concerned, but there was a certain element lack of dimension to the woman. No where special, no possessions to speak of, no friends or family, and filled with wild abandon... She wasn't seeking to avoid crowds or authorities, however, so not on the run. Perhaps there was a lack of self-awareness or understanding, which meant her injuries could be more severe than they knew. Tyrias would keep an eye on Lesya's condition while they were in transit just in case.

At last the ship dropped out of hyperspace and fell into a descent over Geonosis. An authorization code was supplied to keep the automated defenses from laying into their ship. "Commander Aran to Locke and Key," the Chiss changed over from Approach after setting course to a secure line. "I have a Cyborg on board in need of emergency treatment. Please advise." She had offered to introduce them. Of course, abruptly trying to stab at John Locke personal line might be a bit presumptuous. If they could get someone from his company, however, Tyrias was fairly confident Lesya would not be disappointed.

Tag: Lesya Kosarev

 

[John Locke]

One would think that the capital of the Confederacy would be the centre of industry, the centre of galactic commerce for the Confederacy...you'd think wrong. John had based the hub of his company in the west of the Southern Systems, centred around the world of Naboo. That didn't mean you could just ignore the capital, especially not when the demands for a droid army and repairs were so intense. The Locke and Key facilities on Geonosis functioned as little more than a production and repair station, the administrative and research work was all handled off-planet leaving mainly automated processes to take care of the day to day work, which suited John just fine. His few appearances on the planet were primarily in his role as Minister of Science, and the less he had to worry about here the better.

That wasn't to say that he could ignore the company, a screen in his office was dedicated to the company, a constant stream of data he could keep an eye on as he worked. It was how a simple comms message, being rerouted to a handler on Naboo caught his attention, wasn't outsourcing great. A simple command routed the call to his terminal, it would be a diversion from the never-ending tide of paperwork at least.

"Captain Aran, this is John Locke, route your ship to the Ministry. I'll have someone meet you when you land and bring you over to my workshop, we'll see what we can do there."

The paperwork could wait, if he had his way it would wait forever, what was the point of having an AI assistant if he couldn't handle all of that. That was why John had created him after all, well not really but that was his story and he was sticking with it. Regardless, EX would have to handle the paperwork for now, he had a cyborg who needed repairs.

Tyrias Aran | Lesya Kosarev

 

[Tyrias Aran]

Tyrias lifted an eyebrow when the Minister of Science himself responded. "Your fortune has increased," the Chiss commented for her passenger's benefit, "you will have an opportunity to meet one of the most advanced Cyborgs in the Confederacy." That said, she opened the channel once more, "Acknowledged, Minister. Out."

The vessel banked as the course was altered as John Locke had requested. As a Chiss, Aran was quite proud in knowing a great many things. That the Locke & Key facility on Geonosis was not quite as equipped for such work, however, hadn't been one of them. Socio-economic or political strategy were not her personal interests or job requirements. If the Confederacy had her as an Intelligence Operative that might have been different. Nevertheless, they established adequate contact and managed to land an audience at the highest level. Quite fortunate.

After the thrusters fired and the ship settled down gracefully on the landing platform, Tyrias stood to her feet. The Chiss monitored for Lesya to follow, if the Cyborg still could. Otherwise they might need to locate a cart to haul her chassis to the workshop.

As they descended, Tyrias looked over at Lesya. "If you have any weapons or recording equipment, it might be wise to announce them before we are shown into the Minister's presence." Even if it couldn't be removed, they could take precautions -- if deemed necessary.

Tag: Lesya Kosarev | John Locke

 

[Lesya Kosarev]

Lesya’s attention was piqued when John himself answered the comm though she hid her interest well. Meeting another cyborg particularly one more advanced than herself would be mildly interesting she only admitted to herself before she hefted herself up on and gingerly began to follow Tyrias through the ship and out onto the landing pad, she inclined her head as if it was a silly question. “I am a weapon, everything about me is a weapon" it was not stated as anything more than absolute fact though it could be misunderstood for sarcasm perhaps. "As for recording devices those I can shut off.” And she did so immediately not wanting to cause any conflict between potential allies and herself, facing the galaxy alone did have disadvantages to be sure.

“This man you call minister, the cyborg is he built for battle like me?” Tyrias had successfully gotten her to in some small way to be interested in meeting this man. The only other cyborg she had ever met was like her just as confused and broken in some ways though they escaped from same lab they parted ways to elude recapture. She followed Tyrias quietly for the time being, thinking back on those events, she was not like she was then time among people had perhaps calmed her some.

Tag:
Tyrias Aran
John Locke

 

[Tyrias Aran]

"How does that make you different than anyone else?" The Chiss asked as Lesya described herself as a weapon. "You may serve the role better, but don't let it define you. The Confederacy has enough unthinking killing machines." Not that Tyrias thought the woman was lamenting her condition. Then again, given what little had been drawn out of her so far, Lesya might not have time to even contemplate her place in the galaxy. Such thoughts might not have occurred to her, or encountered enough one-dimensional people for it to be drilled into her. Whatever the case, Tyrias would rather this cyborg be something more than a hammer in a galaxy replete with hammers.

The blue woman tilted her head slightly as they moved. Built for battle? Like her? "If pressed to battle, I'm sure he would be formidable. I think his talents lay in the worlds of constructing new technologies and slicing. Areas you could expand into ensuring you never need to worry about having credits to survive." The more rounded out Lesya's skillset, the more job opportunities. Not that Tyrias would try pushing her away from being a soldier or assassin. Not everyone was suited for office work.

Tag: Lesya Kosarev | John Locke

 

[Lesya Kosarev]

Lesya followed along behind Tyria’s at a slower pace but followed all the same, the chiss liked to talk rather surprising for her species but at least a part of Lesya didn’t mind maybe even welcomed it. She found parts of the conversation difficult, but it didn’t mean she was not listening; however, she would only respond to the things she knew how to. “Because I am a weapon, and I do think so I am not mindless.” She tilted her head slightly “If somebody cut you up and turned you into me, would you not be a weapon?” there may have been a bit of irritation in her voice. When she turned the topic back to somebody else it disarmed her somewhat.

Still she considered what she said, there was sense in knowing more than simply how to kill even if it was highly effective it could only carry you so far realistically, at the same time though it was a simple existence she knew what was expected of her and it was relatively easy to carry out. Her mind then went back to Nar Shadda, if not for Tyrias she would probably be sold off to the hutts by now, so there was truth to it. “You make a good point.”

Tag:
Tyrias Aran
John Locke

 

[Tyrias Aran]

Tyrias smiled and turned to look over at Lesya Kosarev with her brightly glowing, red eyes. "That would only make me a more formidable weapon." Physical combat was not what she lived for. The forays as a vigilante were a hobby. Sport. A chance to exercise her mental faculties in a different arena and to contemplate strategy at the micro-level as she often did at larger scale. Nevertheless, the Chiss already thought herself a weapon. One employed in ways other than overwhelming, physical force. The Chiss' strength was their intellect, and the galaxy was fortunate enough the Ascendancy did not extend themselves beyond their capabilities as Sith often did.

A slight nod followed Lesya accepting Tyrias' comment about broadening her set of skills. It was up to the other woman whether she chose to pursue it or not. As her guide had said before, the cyborg would be free to choose her own destiny.

After they met up with their contact, Tyrias would present whatever credentials were necessary to validate their identity. Though it seemed unlikely anyone could mistake a Chiss Officer in the Confederacy for anyone else; there were those able to take on the appearance of others. She would not balk at prudent security measures -- they were only logical.

"This should be a most enlightening encounter," Tyrias commented as they approached the workshop when John Locke would be awaiting their arrival. There had not been an opportunity to meet the Minister in person. While the use of droids was efficient, her role did not require becoming an expert in their creation nor their maintenance. Some of the basics she'd picked up, however, while inspecting ship resources and personnel. Perhaps now she would learn of some of the less common technologies or capabilities of this faction.