P.O. Box 666

[Sal Katarn]

Hegemonic Automaton

A package arrived in one [member="Gerion Ardik"]'s P.O. box. The package was summarily processed through the proper channels. Top of the line security droids ran the parcel through a series of scanners, because the CEO of Hegemonic Automaton wasn't about to die by opening a manilla envelope full of anthrax. The package, however, appeared to be toxin free. So far as the droids could tell it was just a thin obsidian cylinder with a bronze dragon wrapping around the length of it. The dragon's jaws formed the emitter head, because the cylinder was in fact a lightsaber, as the droids had surmised.

But lightsabers, unless programmed to explode, did not pose a threat to the master. So they sent the package through.

It was there, in the mailroom of the Hegemonic Automaton, that one of Ardik's organic employees picked up the package to deliver it in person.

The secretary was a rather unimpressive fellow. Brown hair, slightly balding. Short. A little overweight. Completely ordinary, just the way Ardik liked them. Allegedly.

"Hmm, what have we here?" Cheer looked over the small parcel. "For Mr. Ardik?" He reached a hand out and picked up the package.

A frigid shockwave washed over him, as if someone had soaked him in ice water. Cheer let out a gasp. He felt numb, all the way through. His fingertips tingled. A slow sensation crawled over him, something rich and musky. His head spun. He closed his eyes and shuddered, struggling to keep his feet.

"Hello, Cheer."

"Who?... What?"

"Open me, Cheer. Open me."

He looked at the package and watched his hand move. He tore off the top of the package and seized the cylinder inside.

Another gasp as his fingers felt shocks, like static.

"Do you want to see me, Cheer? I want to see you."

Cheer fumbled with the activation switch, then thumbed it on. A bar of violet sprang to life with a snap-hiss and he felt a surge power roll through his being.

"Swing me, Cheer. Watch me dance."

And Cheer did. He swung the blade in a crude arc and split the table the package had been resting on in half. His eyes widened.

An alarm keened and two droids clanked into the room. "Lower your weapon," one ordered in an emotionless monotone.

"What do you feel, Cheer?"

The secretary stumbled forward and hacked and hacked until he stood in a pile of dismembered droid parts. Then he ran out the door and down the hall as fast as his legs would carry him, longing to feel the wind on his face, feel the bodies of his enemies give way beneath his new, wondrous blade.

"What do you feel?"

Cheer cackled. "POWER!" Cried the running fat man, "UNLIMITED POOOOOWER!"

 

[Caulder Dune]

Hegemon Towers
Lianna City

Hegemonic Automaton's headquarters was, quite simply, a pair of large towers connected by a covered bridge. Obviously Hegemonic Automaton had no need for that much space, so they rented a majority of it out to other companies and businesses. Providing high-quality, high-security office space for the minor enterprises of the Tion Hegemony was always something he had ment to do. That and charge rent while they were there, making a good measure of profit from the whole spiel. They got nice offices with quality security services, Hegemonic Automaton got nice credits. Everyone wins. Gerion Ardik reflected on all of this as he strode up the external steps to the larger tower, H1, ready for another day in service to the capitalist cause.

But the Umbaran abruptly stopped, a chill running down his spine. Instinct demanded he looked up, but he didn't see anything other than his very own tower of Babel.

Then the glass on one of the uppermost floors burst outward and tumbled to the ground. Amidst the various glass shards that rained downward was a portly man. Gerion narrowed his eyes and stood there, only half-aware of the screams of the various other onlookers as the nameless fat man descended to his death. There really is no putting into words the sound an overweight man makes when he falls over five hundred meters to his death on a concrete pavement. The pavement itself was cracked and damaged as a result, but that was nothing compared to what became of the fat man- namely a horribly mangled corpse. If Gerion had known he was going to be in the splash zone, he would have moved.

Gerion plucked a handkerchief from within his suit, using it to wipe away the stray flecks of blood from his personage. "Is that the mail room attendant?"

"SCANNING." Announced one of the two TA4s standing next to him. Going to work without bodyguards was for plebeians.

A moment passed, perhaps two, before the TA4 blurted out its answer. "AFFIRMATIVE. REGINALD B. CHEER, DEPARTMENT OF-"

"A yes or no will suffice."

"YES."

Suicide on the job was not a very prominent thing at Hegemonic Automaton. Most employees preferred to off themselves more quietly. Reginald had never been anything but unassuming. If this was going to be a new trend, it looked like nets were going to have to be installed. Gerion returned the handkerchief to his pocket, looking over the corpse a second time. Then he saw what Reginald was holding in his hand- a cylinder, clearly a lightsaber, but with a bronze dragon wrapped around the hilt, its head forming the emitter. His heart sank twenty leagues at the sight of it, and now Gerion no longer had the desire to push pencils in the name of glorious Tion.

Many people would attest that the galaxy worked in mysterious ways, but Gerion found those ways to be more idiotic than anything else. It wasn't mysterious that a powerful, vile artifact like the Soul Saber ended up in the hands of a mail room attendant. It was ridiculous. Tempting as it was, he couldn't just leave it there. Then some paramedic might try and pick it up, and whatever kill count was already established by Reginald before the tossed himself out of the building would increase. Gerion, well attuned to the Dark Side, already felt nauseated by its presence. He already considered himself treading the edge of psychosis, he wasn't going to let the Soul Saber push him over the edge. Not without acclimatizing himself and making the proper preparations first.

Until then, Gerion would have to find someone who was dead or dull to the Force to safeguard the lightsaber. Truly a difficult thing to do when one owned a droid manufacturing company.

"Go pick up that lightsaber." Gerion instructed the TA4 "I'm afraid I've lost the stomach to work today."

"AFFIRMATIVE."

Once the droids had finished callously looting the Soul Saber from Reginald's still-warm corpse, the Umbaran departed.