Questions

[Munin]

[member="Irajah Ven"]

There were very few things in this galaxy that Munin didn't understand.

He was a scientist of a sort, an engineer of the highest quality, and above all a slicer. Most of what he did was parse through datafile after datafile, checking systems and constructing information resources from scraps dug out by informants or malware. Munin knew a little bit about everything, and a lot about some things. It was who he was, by nature alone. His job was to collection as much information as possible, and then sell it. That insured that he had about as much knowledge as any government spy agency did alone, plus with Huginn at his side there were very little aspects of this Galaxy that Munin didn't have a firm grasp on.

The force?

The force was one of those few things.

Spark had tried to explain it to him more than a few times, though her descriptions had always fallen rather short. Not because she wasn't a good teacher, but because the concept was simply foreign to him. He had tried to equate it to something he knew about, something in his head that he could link it to, but it always fell short. At first he'd tried to think of it like an energy field, something that was naturally occurring and that could be harvested, but from the way Spark told it that wasn't at all accurate.

So he had moved on to a different theory, one that was more substantial. That of course had also been quickly debunked by Spark. Eventually he'd simply left the conversation alone, if only because he was growing incredibly frustrated with the very concept of the force itself.

Of course, just because the discussion had come to an end hadn't meant his curiosity was sated. That was why he was now making an effort to take clients of a certain sorts.

He and Huginn were contacted thousands of times a day by a variable figure of people that one couldn't even begin to plot as datapoints. Hundreds upon thousands of questions, each with a different background, each with a different story. Most received simple automatic responses, but a few? A few earned a meeting. This one especially had caught Munin's interest, a mystery that needed to be solved.

A question that begged for an answer.

He leaned back slightly the booth of the musty cantina, waiting for the client with silent agony.

 

[Kuzo]

Irajah had waited. And waited and waited. Someone had promised to help her- but eventually it became clear that she wasn't going to be getting the aid she so desperately needed, not from that quarter at least. She had exhausted her own leads, every potential thread she could track down herself. And the choice yawned in front of her- give up, or push harder.

And there was no way Irajah was giving up. She'd contacted a few people in the criminal underworld (fortunately for her, people willing to patch up a blaster wound at three in the morning, with no questions asked, were few and far between), and they had directed her to a pair of infochants. While the last one had failed her, maybe these two could do more. So she'd sent out a query, knowing she risked so much just doing that. Perhaps it was part of the reason she could find so little- how hesitant she was to share her own information. But now she knew she had to.

She was seeking the progenitor of a particular virus. Not just any virus. But an engineered version of a deadly strain of the Hive virus. Why anyone would fiddle with that was beyond speculation, but it had happened. She disclosed sheer deadliness of the 'improved' version, as well as how it could be staved off only with the use of the Force. She left out the location of her homeworld in the message, and she knew that a trail of her own identity would turn cold on Tatooine. But beyond this strange information, she was looking, now, for something else as well. But she would ask this person, this [member="Munin"] , about it in person.

Dressed in a blue high necked tunic with sleeves that went down far past her wrists, Irajah ducked in to the old cantina. The air was thick and damp, and dust swirled up around the denizens of the shadows as they moved and murmured. Short, dark curly hair bounced around her face as she looked around, hazel eyes trying to pick shapes out of the fugue.

Heading toward the corner of the cantina the response had directed her to, she caught sight of (what she hoped) was her contact. Breathing in deeply, absently tugging at the cuffs of her sleeves, she steeled herself. For what?

For success. For failure. For whatever might come next.

And slid in to the booth across from the figure.

"Munin?"

 

[Munin]

[member="Irajah Ven"]

What was in a name?

Huginn and He had asked themselves that over and over again. Growing up as Orphans had been difficult, having their names changed over and over again to make them more "appealing" had been more so. It was something that had stuck with the both of them, the fact that neither of them truly had a name. When they escaped the orphanage the first thing they had done was pick names. Munin and Huginn. They weren't official in any sense of the word, just two words picked up from some ancient legend that had been created long ago.

It seemed fitting really, that their names meant nothing, given that their lives held equal worth to many.

"Yes." He said with a smile, looking at the woman who sat down across from him.

Munin didn't know much about her, though of course he'd tried to look into her past as much as he could. Ironically enough most of his clients had some form of mystery about them. It seemed that people who looked for knowledge often had a bit to hide themselves. Munin didn't judge them of course, he hid almost everything about himself. Even now he wore contact lenses that changed the color of his eyes, wore clothes that didn't fit him properly, and sat in a way that didn't denote his natural posture. All done in an effort to keep who he really was hidden.

"Miss Ven, I presume." He said with that same smile. "What can I help you with?"

He already knew the answer of course, in part at least, but hearing her say it out loud was a way to confirm the path they'd be setting out upon.

 

[Kuzo]

His search would have turned up the last six months or so. She'd spent a lot of time on Coruscant, after the war there, working as a Doctor in civilian aid. She had connections with the Mandalorians, certain elements of the criminal underground. She spent some time herself in a hospital on Mon Calamari- though she'd been discharged, there was no record of her leaving the planet (despite the fact that obviously, she had). Strange. Before that, Tatooine and then... nothing. Either she'd changed her name (and someone had covered those tracks well), or she had come from some backwater frontier planet.

She nodded.

"Yes. Irajah Ven."

Chewing on her lower lip, she was quiet for a moment before leaning in. Her tone was quiet, carefully controlled. Too carefully.

"I'm trying to track down information about.... a bio-engineered virus," she paused, swallowing. She had already decided what information she was holding back for now, until she knew if it was necessary or even helpful. Reaching in to her pocket, she pulled out a slim data pad and slid it across the table to him.

"Someone engineered a version of the Hive Virus that wiped out Firrerre, over 800 years ago, utilizing every known mutation of the virus." It came out in a rush.

"That has all of my research on the virus itself. I don't believe it was made by a professional geneticist. It's.... sloppy. Too much background noise in the DNA. Instead of carefully splicing the mutations in to a single version of the virus, they created a.... for lack of a better word.... mega-virus. It's enormous. It contains the full genome of every version, which is, technically speaking, absolutely ridiculous. But they did it. I don't know why. And I don't know who. But I suspect this isn't the first project they've done. While it's sloppy, it's too complex for a complete novice. And I think that maybe that's.... a clue? Maybe there are other instances of these sloppy, complicated illnesses breaking out elsewhere in the past. Not this one in particular. But if I can find MORE of them, I might be able to.... establish a pattern? I don't know."

She sat back, looking down at her hands.

"I've been coming up against dead end after dead end. I thought I had a lead, a half dozen times. But every time I ended up following it to someone who obviously had nothing to do with this.... abomination."

There was also something else. Something more personal. But it had nothing to do with this particular undertaking.

Or so she assumed.

[member="Munin"]

 

[Munin]

[member="Irajah Ven"]

Munin looked somewhat surprised.

Usually he had to drag details out of his clients. Oddly enough most people weren't too willing to divulge information to him. They probably assumed that he would turn around and sell it. It was a fair enough thought, but Munin held strongly to the idea of...information broker and client privilege. He would not sell information that he got from someone while they were buying information from him, that was simply good business. Still, even with that stated clearly people were often very unwilling to actually tell him about what they wanted or needed.

"I see." He answered.

This was hardly his forte. He knew a little bit about the gulag plague, as much as one could in fact, but he was no doctor or geneticist. That of course didn't mean that his databanks had no relevant information. Incidents like these, plagues, they were always recorded. Things that could wipe out entire towns and villages were important events, not to be downplayed by those involved. As such there were records, records that Munin surely had.

"Records." He began. "Tales, even myths, all easy to find."

That was certainly true. "There would be a commonality in symptoms I assume? Something that marks this virus out from others like the Neimoidian Plague."

Such a distinction was important. Tracking down every instance of disease in the galaxy was easy enough, but narrowing their focus down to this particular issue required more exacting details.

 

[Kuzo]

Irajah was silent for long enough that he might suspect she'd never speak again. Her eyes had cast down to the table top, her hands very still, folded together upon it. Suddenly, she breathed in deeply and looked up at him. Though her gaze met his, it was impossible to hide the fact that she wasn't really seeing him.

Oh, Irajah thought she hid it well enough. But it was the absolute control in her voice, in her posture, that gave her away. The level of effort there was clear. Despite the words, this was not a recitation of a text book example of the virus she was searching for.

"This version of the virus has a 99.9% casualty rate," she said, her words careful and precise. "Initial symptoms are fever and fatigue. Shortly after infection, the virus begins to rupture the red blood cells, binding with the iron, causing bruising-"

An absent movement, her hands in turn tugged first on one cuff of her sleeves and then the other.

"-and pain. The red blood cells disintegrate, flooding the plasma with cytoplasm and additional viral bodies. These travel to the patients internal organs. In this form, bound with the iron in the host's blood, the virus becomes hydrophobic. Meaning it repels water. Due to this and the sheer density of the virus, it is pushed into and then, back out of the organs- through the walls of the organs themselves. Or punctures the circulatory system, in areas of the body with no convenient organs. Though it starts in the red blood cells, the virus isn't limited. It affects, and breaks down, multiple types of cells throughout the body. The red blood cells are simply the first. Death is usually caused by massive internal bleeding, but from no single source. And the blood plasma, flooded with cytoplasm and shredded red blood cells, is unable to even begin to clot in response. In a patient with an already compromised system, death occurs less than eighteen hours after infection."

She paused for a long moment.

"In healthy patients, onset of death occurs three to five days after infection."

[member="Munin"]

 

[Munin]

[member="Irajah Ven"]

Munin hated germs.

He well understood that viruses were not germs, and that this disease in fact was probably more horrible than anything he could get by touching a dirty table but...well as she spoke Munin couldn't help but curl into himself just slightly. His stomach lurched somewhat and his fingers balled into fists, his eyes set on her and his lips steadily began to thin. There was no arguing that such a disease would be an absolute horrid way to die. In truth, such a thing had to be engineered. Natural diseases did not work in that way, at least none that he knew of, and those that killed that quickly generally tended to burn themselves up rather quickly, not spread anywhere else.

Certainly not to different planets.

That was mostly due to incubation times. If a disease began somewhere in a settlement and killed everything within three to five days, it was unlikely that the infected would actually be able to travel off world. It was only when a disease had a longer period of incubation that it spread, such as the Neimoidian plague several centuries ago. Munin considered this for a moment, doing a few quick checks in his head before offering her a slow nod.

"Alright." He slowly slid up from his seat and out of the booth. "Follow me please."

Munin motioned towards a far back door in the cantina, heading towards it and simply assuming that Irajah would follow along with him.

Huginn, his partner, and he had long ago set up dozens of access points all across the galaxy. These access points allowed them to tap into their datacenter within the outer rim, letting them see all the information they had at a moments notice. Something like this...it would require searching the entire set of what they had stored. "I don't know If I can give you everything you're looking for, in fact I very much doubt I can, but I will most certainly find you a lead, and once we have that...the rest will come."

 

[Kuzo]

Irajah slid out of the booth, following as expected.

"I understand that. Whatever you can find though...." She trailed off.

It was funny, how the people she worked with made assumptions of things. She was a Doctor, but rarely had more than a few credits available for things for herself- nice food, more clothes, a ship or home of her own. Between that, her secrecy and, on the rare occassions they came to light, her bruises, co-workers tended to think that all of her money was funneled in to spice, or some other vice.

But no. In truth, she had money. Just that all of her funds went in to this. This hunt for answers. Paying information brokers, traveling, chasing after leads that went no where. Every time, growing more and more frustrated, more and more helpless. And more grim about her chances of finding anything useful. She'd been let down too many times to be outwardly hopeful. Yet she still kept trying, grimly determined.

[member="Munin"]

 

[Munin]

[member="Irajah Ven"]

The terminal that Munin lead her to wasn’t anything fancy, in fact, the thing looked half broken and busted, wires sticking out of its side and the screen barely flickering to life as Munin pressed the power button. He looked around for a moment, then typed in a few simple code commands into the prompt.

The screen flickered again, becoming brighter.

”This won’t take long.” Munin quickly began to enter the search parameters into the terminal, a small network line sending out the request back to the datacenter within the outer rim. The communicator was linked through several back systems on the holo-net and towards the planet, eventually garnering them a response in just a few seconds.

”There are several indications…” Munin began as he clicked through several results, quickly parsing line after line of information as he spoke. ”That this disease was centralized here.”

He pulled up a star map on the screen and pointed towards a sector of space. ”There are several genetic labs in that area of space as well.”

Munin went on for a moment, narrowing the search. Then smiled.

”This one dealt with infectious diseases.” Was it what they were looking for? There was really only one way to find out.

 

[Kuzo]

Irajah leaned over, frowning as she looked where he was pointing.

"Gap Nine? I've never heard of it."

In fairness, before leaving her homeworld, Irajah hadn't been particularly interested in galactic affairs or geography. She'd been focused on her career in medicine, on her family. She hadn't paid that much attention to what went on before- and now, her education in that matter was piecemeal and haphazard. It bounced around, the same as she had, following lead after lead, ending up at dead end after dead end.

Her frown deepened.

"I know that symbol though. I mean. I've seen it before. I just can't remember where."

She pointed at the name of the genetics lab, GeneCorp Enterprises. Next to it, the companies logo spun slowly- A circle encompassing downswept, high stylized, wings flanking a snake headed staff.

Where had she seen that before? And why did it feel more familiar than simply a passing encounter? It was going to bug her until she figured it out.

[member="Munin"]

 

[Munin]

[member="Irajah Ven"]

"Then I suppose we will have to investigate." Munin said simply.

He shifted the map slightly, taking a closer look at the system. It seemed that most of it was abandoned, or rather, untouched by any major government. The One Sith had previously held some contact, but it seemed that they had left quite some time ago. That was of no great surprise, the Sith only had limited resources and with things have recently collapsed there were many worlds that now called themselves independent. Of course, a small colony still remained.

"I can get us a ship." Munin said simply. "A three day trip I think."

The laboratory would have a database or something of the like that Munin could access, and from there they could learn more. Everyone left a trail of breadcrumbs, and they had now found the first. It was only a matter of following along until they found what she was looking for. "Is that agreeable?"

In truth, he was beginning to feel curious himself.

Disease was not something that he liked to mess with, but a laboratory that had been constructed about the very idea of it? Manufacturing some of the greatest plagues in the galaxy? There was an odd sort of pull to that, perhaps because of the potential profit that information born there could hold.

 

[Kuzo]

"W-we?"

Irajah couldn't look more surprised if someone had just told her banthas in tutus were about to come out and put on a little show.

It wasn't that she hadn't gotten help in the past. There was no way to undertake this sort of search without it. But this was the first time someone had, without her asking, offered more than what she was looking for from them. He was an information broker, not a mercenary. Certainly not a friend. And while she was paying him for whatever information he could find, that money was not nearly enough to cover a three day excursion in to the unknown.

"I'll cover the cost of the ship," she finally got out. "But I don't know if I can pay you- whatever this would be worth to you."

[member="Munin"]

 

[Munin]

[member="Irajah Ven"]

Money, was hardly the most valuable thing in the galaxy. Munin had lots of money, probably too much of it. He and Huginn had long ago learned that there were far more interesting things that could be used for payment, here, that payment was new information. It wasn’t something that he would divulge quickly of course, but Irajah could probably guess what his intentions were, it was somewhat obvious.

”Payment won’t be an issue.” Munin said simply with a slight shrug. His fingers swiped across the terminal one last time, and then suddenly the screen once again went dark and dim, as though it were nothing but a rusted shell of it’s former self.

”I like a good mystery.” He said as he turned to her with a smile. ”It’s rare to find something so interesting. I would like to see where this leads.”

They could find anything, but the most likely subject was of course some sort of engineered plague. Munin would never proliferate such a thing, if only because biological warfare was the only kind that didn’t make him any money. Yet such a thing could still be incredibly valuable, it could be used for study, further research, development of a Vaccine, any one of a dozen things that could earn him countless advantages.

Munin like the thought of that.

He liked it quite a bit.

 

[Kuzo]

Indeed, Irajah got the gist. For a moment, she started to have second thoughts. Bringing him along- was that a good idea? But she realized that she might not have the expertise necessary to go diving through the archives of a defunct lab. If there was even something as simple as a password on the system, she'd be stuck. And this was the best lead she'd had so far.

She had no idea what they would find. But if it was answers of any sort, it would be worth it.

*****

[member="Munin"] got them a ship, and Irajah procurred a number of extra items that.... weren't standard. She wasn't going to argue about the hazmat suits with their own air system. Or the full medical scanning equipment (as full as was possible in any portable sense). Even though she was already infected with the virus they sought, she wouldn't put him at the risk of it. And for all she knew, there were other things that would put her at risk. A place that would make a virus like the one that had wiped out her planet was a place that very well might have other contagions. And while she had her own infection under (something resembling) control, she couldn't be sure she'd have the same results with a new virus.

Irajah sat in the co-pilot's seat, even though there wasn't much she'd be able to do from there. She didn't even pretend she was anything resembling a proficient pilot. Oh, she could monitor communications and sensors, but that was about it.

It didn't really hit her until she was sitting there. Getting everything ready had filled her thoughts. But she was embarking on a three day trip, to an infectious disease lab, with a stranger. She wasn't worried. Just- what even were they going to *talk* about?

After all, his trade was information.

 

[Munin]

(Sorry for the wait, I was out of town!)
[member="Irajah Ven"]

The ship he'd gotten them wasn't anything fancy, in fact it was probably one of the most common freighters in the galaxy. Large enough for both of them and two or three others if they needed it, cargo hold with enough space they'd need to take with and a medical bay which had been stuffed to the brim. Munin hadn't argued with any of the additional equipment she'd brought with her, he wasn't a doctor after all and in the end he had figured that she would know best.

The Information Broker quickly ran through pre-flight routines, checking all the systems to make sure they weren't going to explode as soon as they took off. "Little warning, I'm not the greatest pilot in the galaxy so if we encounter any pirates...well you better hope they're horrible at their jobs."

It was half a joke, half serious.

He could fly as well as the next guy, but if you wanted to get fancy...well you'd be better served with a bantha at the controls. Munin would get them to where they needed to go, and beyond that...well he hoped that they wouldn't be running into anything out of the ordinary. Quickly his fingers grasped around the ships ignition, the engines flooding to life with a sudden surge. The ship rocked for half a moment, then there was a loud metallic creak as the vessel began to lift off from the ground.

"Best we not think about that though." He offered her a smile. "Brighter side of life and all that."

 

[Kuzo]

(ditto with apologies on the wait! A lot going on here)

Irajah grimaced. She was sitting in the co-pilot's seat, trying not to obviously grip the arm-rests with a white knuckled intensity.

"Well, you can't be worse than me. The only time I ever piloted I crashed the ship on the first planet I came to. I'd say it was embaressing, but, there wasn't anyone to see it in the middle of the desert anyway."

​She offered him a grim smile.

"Seems like something both of us might want to work on? Not now, I mean. Very, very not now."

Normally, Irajah was pretty good at talking to people. She was friendly, outgoing, enjoyed the company of others. So she was surprised to find herself so uptight and awkward in this moment. Was it stress? Probably. This was the first time she was following up a lead with someone who was essentially a stranger. [member="Cait Falcor"] had helped her once before, but that was different- that was a friend. And while she had been gung-ho and on fire to track down the lead that time, it didn't *feel* the same way this did. Then she had been driven, there had been this burning hope that answers would be found. She didn't feel that way now. Now there was this heavy, sinking feeling. Was it because she had come up empty handed already, and was subconsciously tempering her expectations? Or did this dread mean something more real- more sinister?

She had no idea, and it left her unbalanced and out of her comfort zone more than usual.

Despite everything that had happened, Irajah was positive, humorous, extroverted. But she didn't feel any of those things at this moment.

[member="Munin"]

 

[Munin]

[member="Irajah Ven"]

"Don't worry." Munin said as the ship dashed through the sky and headed towards the upper atmosphere, leaving a contrail within it's wake. "I've yet to crash one of these."

Jakku had been a close call, but he'd made it out just fine. Huginn had always told him that flying should be left to auto-pilots anyway, and part of him tended to agree with that assessment, if only because it made things so much simpler. The Information Broker gripped his controls a bit tighter as they dropped slightly, the air growing thinner and the atmosphere beginning to break before them. Blue skies turned to black space, and quickly they passed into orbit.

Munin reached across Irajah, stretching his arm so that he could prime the hyperdrive before quickly retreating and tapping his fingers into the small keyboard beside him. He'd memorized the coordinates to where they were going earlier, being somewhat weary of her double-crossing him somehow for some reason. The idea was a bit paranoid of course, but in his line of work it paid to be a bit...skeptical of everyone you talked to.

"Should take us a few hours to get there." He commented as the planet grew smaller and smaller behind them.

"Do you play Dejarik?" Munin asked with a smile. "Sitting around waiting doesn't sound too appealing to me."

The Infochant reached towards the small levers in the center console and gently pushed them forward. There was a loud whir behind them, the engines spooling up, and then suddenly they jumped to hyperspace.

 

[Kuzo]

"Not since I was twelve."

There was a surprising amount of weight in that statement. A story hidden in the empty spaces between the words. But she seemed little enough interested in sharing more than that.

They both watched in silence for a moment as the stars stretch and lit up the view before them.

Standing up, she stretched, grimacing slightly. The pain was a daily companion, and for the most part, she was accustomed to it. But every now and again it flared up beyond easily coped with levels. She put her arms down quickly, pushing the long, loose sleeves back in to place- a glimpse of the inside of pale, bruised forearms.

"So you'll probably kick my rear end all over the board," she said quickly, flashing a smile that didn't reach her eyes. "But at least I'm not a wookiee, so I think I can manage to be a good sport about it. Shall we?"

​[member="Munin"]

 

[Munin]

[member="Irajah Ven"]

Dejarik was a game of skill above any other. There were entire tournaments played around the game, galactic games that had prize pools most would balk at. The rules were somewhat complex, but once you got the hang of it all there wasn't much of an issue. Of course there were millions upon millions of strategies to actually win, and that was the aspect of the game that Munin actually enjoyed a great deal. The idea that there was always a way to beat your opponent, no matter how far gone you were.

As they stepped into the back of the ship Munin swung himself into the seat on one side of the board, pressing the button on the underside of the table to activate the holo-figurines. "My father taught me how to play this."

That was a lie.

Munin was an orphan, and had no actual idea who his father and mother were, but he felt the need to be deceptive. The less she knew about the real him, the better. It was that paranoia again, that small voice in the back of his head that told him everyone was out to get him. It was simply part of his business, it was how he stayed safe.

"I'll try and go easy on you." He said with a smile. "No promises though."

 

[Kuzo]

"My mom taught me," she replied absently, not even really thinking about it. The lie went undetected. She had stopped playing when her mom had gotten sick. And after, well. There seemed like there were more important things to do then.

They settled down across from each other, flicking the game board on. Pretty much every ship like this seemed to come standard with this a holo-chess. In truth, she was little better at the other game either (though that could just be because she played against a droid last time).

Up until now, she'd managed to keep her mind off of [member="Boo Chiyo"], the young boy she'd brought in to her life. He was back on Dosuum. She'd adopted him, opened her life (and frankly panicked a bit) to him. Even found a steady job, rather than following one lead after another across the galaxy. But she'd still had to go. He was staying at the Academy for the time she was away- he was in good hands. She was fairly certain it bothered her more than it bothered him, in all honesty. But this time, after this was over, she had somewhere to go back to. They weren't a family. Not really. Not yet. But they were something. Something that mattered to her.

Looking down at the holo-graphic creatures critically, she decided she'd teach him how to play when she got back.

The pair played in silence for a few turns before-

"This isn't even really a contest, is it?" She said with a grimace. "You'd think I'd get used to losing games like this, or quit playing them. But here we are...."

She indicated her next move as the rancor went lumbering across the board.

[member="Munin"]