Private The Dark Mans Legacy

[Hacks]

Hacks turned to watch the impressive landing of the Jedi, but quickly turned her gaze to continue her search. "Sheesh. Not gonna lie, I'll be surprised if there's much still left in here," Cato said as he wandered the room, "If there's anything of value, it's not just laying about. Look for signs of a secret room or hidden compartment, something like that. Might only be accessible to Force Users, even."

The slicer bit her tongue, almost spilling that it wasn't her first time raiding Jedi ruins. In fact she had raided the Jedi ruins of their temple on Coruscant with Koda Fett and Ghorua the Shark. It was part of her reasoning for moving beyond Galactic Alliance space, she had slowly developed a high profile in the criminal underworld for being behind political assassinations, espionage, corporate manipulation on Denon over the years, then later raiding Jedi temples and slicing into the Galactic Senate to save Koda Fett from the senate guard.

"Hopefully he has some old records," she joked, unable to locate anything worth noting. Unbeknownst to her was the false floor in the warehouse wherein stashed were the blades of Cataris and the Dark Mans holocron. Hacks walked to the far end of the warehouse and looked to Cato, "Dead end," she declared, "I think we bounce from here, nothing but cobwebs and bums."

 

[Cato Harth]

“Hrm.” Cato grumbled, before coming to a sudden halt as soon as he stepped over the false floor. Whisperings of the Force murmured beneath, catching his attention just when it had nearly been lost. “Hold up.”

Anticipation rose, like the Knight was getting ready to open up a present. He bit his lip, dusting the floor until his fingers caught on the raised lip of one of the panels. “What do we have here?” It flipped open to reveal a hidden cache, immediately recognizable within was an old holocron, which Cato quickly snatched.

He then pulled out the twin swords, and unsheathed the first of them. His grin grew wider, “That’s awesome.” A finely-crafted, saber-resistant blade had no use buried beneath a ruined enclave. Cato sheathed it once more, and nodded in satisfaction, “Not such a dead end, after all.”

Hacks​

 

[Hacks]

"What do we have here?" the Jedi said. Hacks watched him carefully as he leaned down and removed a floor panel. When he took out the items she almost scoffed, what was so important about some swords and a blue cube? she thought. "That's awesome," Cato exclaimed, unsheathing one of the two blades and appreciating it, "Not such a dead end, after all."

"I want those swords," Hacks said dourly, eyes watching him intently, "You've got that plasma cutter already, and two swords work fine with someone like me," she said as she opened her four arms wide in show. She had no concept of what those weapons had been through over the centuries, the hands they had been passed through. A rich history in the Force.

The holocron was an enigma to her, she had no concept of the devices. It didn't resemble any data shard she had used, nor was aware of just what a holocron was or did. In her eyes it was Cato receiving the short stick in the deal and not by any small margin. What's a stupid cube worth against two nice blades.

 

[Cato Harth]

Right. Sharing.

Cato frowned a bit as Hacks demanded her pay. "This isn't just a pair of swords. They've got a legacy. You can feel it in the Force," He closed his eyes for just a moment, then shrugged, "Well, I can, anyway."

This was the kind of sacrifice he had agreed to, though. One he knew he was likely to confront. Still he proffered one blade with a sheepish grin, and kept the other close to his chest, "Don't suppose I could convince you for halfsies?" Might as well try. But if she was adamant about the prize, the Knight would ultimately relent and give both, to keep from souring their relationship.

Besides, the holocron no doubt contained valuable information. Which she would likely have no use for, or at least no way to access. With the saber, and whatever secrets the holocron held, he was in fact still getting out a net positive from the experience. "Y'know where I come from, we usually say 'please' when we want something. I think it might do wonders for our little partnership." He smirked, tossing the holocron in his hand.

Hacks​

 

[Hacks]

Cato frowned, "This isn't just a pair of swords. They've got a legacy. You can feel it in the Force, well, I can, anyway." Hacks took a step forward, she wasn't backing down, but neither was Cato it seemed as he clutched one sword closer to his chest, "Don't suppose I could convince you for halfsies?" Hacks snatched the sword offered to her, one of the twin blades. She tucked the blade between her belt as a temporary sheathe.

"Y'know where I come from, we usually say 'please' when we want something. I think it might do wonders for our little partnership," the Jedi said, tossing the holocron in his hand. "Where I come from there's no time for courtesy," she said, holding out a mechanical hand for the other blade, "I'm not going to ask twice, you got the cube, you even got the other plasma cutter from the corpse, meaning you've got two of them now. So I want my fair share."

With one of her four hands held out to accept the second blade, her other three hands rested on her hips in defiance. She was born and raised in the gutters, a dog eat dog world. If you back down then you didn't earn respect, perhaps the opposite of how this Jedi was raised. Politeness may get him far, but it would get Hacks a bullet in the back. In her circles it showed weakness, but for Jedi it showed strength of character.

 

[Cato Harth]

"Alright, alright. Fair's fair." Cato relented, handing over the second blade. What started as a twinge of irritation quickly transitioned into a look of subdued melancholy. Pity, in a sense. Her attitude was one he had been familiar with, given his own youth in the grimier parts of the galaxy. He had moved past it since becoming a Jedi, but it was easy to be reminded of hard times.

There was an air of awkward tension that hung for a moment after, which he then tried to dispel with a clearing of his throat. "'Kay. Well. Treasure acquired. You got a step two in mind?"

The Knight began meandering towards the exit, whistling a tune as he did. He looked back towards Hacks, "This droid ain't gonna kill itself. I assume." As it was, though, he pretty much had to rely on her more intimate knowledge of KV-N1 to make any progress. At least in any sort of timely fashion.

Hacks​

 

[Hacks]

"Alright, alright. Fair's fair," Cato relented, Hacks snatched the offered second blade and sheathed it between belt and waist where metal met flesh. The Jedi began to walk away towards the exit, "'Kay. Well. Treasure acquired. You got a step two in mind? This droid ain't gonna kill itself. I assume."

The slicer took a moment to think as she caught up to him and walked side by side. "There's a club in the Refugee Sector," she explained, "Count Zero. Type of place slicers and infochants frequent. Lots of black deals in that joint." Hacks gave the Jedi an appraising look, "Don't go announcing yourself as a badge or you'll quickly get shot, and I don't want that association with my name."

Hacks had a lengthy reputation in the underworld, but it wasn't the first time she had cooperated with law enforcement. Hell, she had been under their thumb on Denon, doing the dirty work they couldn't. To save face the badges would pretend to hunt her down and sometimes arrest her, only for her to walk out of her cell an hour later. It was a mutually beneficial relationship, and once again she would work with keepers of peace to achieve her own goals.

"We can ask around, see what connections people may have," Hacks said, "Hell, some droids go to the club to cool their circuits. Maybe one of them is part of the hivemind. Watching." She craned her neck and looked at Cato, "If you're serious about taking down KV it's not going to be pretty." They were crossing the walkway over the vertical city and Hacks began to guide him towards a metro station.

 

[Cato Harth]

"Don't go announcing yourself as a badge or you'll quickly get shot, and I don't want that association with my name."

Cato laughed incredulously, then straightened up to set the record straight on her many doubts, "Hacks, honey, I got this," The knight flared his jacket, "I dunno what you know about Jedi, but I wasn't just locked away in a monastery basement for two decades, yeah?" There was a pregnant pause before he spoke again, this time more subdued and reflective as he continued, "I had a life before all that. This stuff? It's nothing new, trust me."

"Besides, I've been getting my ass kicked across Nar Shaddaa for more than a year now. If I'm not dead yet, clearly I'm doing something right," He smirked and returned to his more casual demeanor, although a hint of his ruminations still lingered on the surface.

"Hell, some droids go to the club to cool their circuits. Maybe one of them is part of the hivemind. Watching."

"Learn something new every day," The mental image of a droid chilling at the club amused him quite a bit. He took it all in stride, trusting that she knew what to do and where to go. There were plenty of reasons to be apprehensive about a random street hacker on Narsh, but he didn't think this was one of them.

"If you're serious about taking down KV it's not going to be pretty."

"Nothing ever is around here," He sighed. This moon was ugly through and through. The crusade he waged was, realistically, futile. One man could not upend the systemic corruption that defined Nar Shaddaa, but that thought had never stopped Cato before, "This Count Zero a frequent haunt for you?"

His gaze turned absently to the endless stream of airspeeder traffic.

Hacks​

 

[Hacks]

The two chatted as they walked their way to the station. The pair were tall, with Hacks substantially taller than Cato. It made for easy work to push her way through the densely packed streets. Few street kids were keen to start trouble with a seven foot, four-armed cyborg. The way to the station was mostly littered with human detritus, spice junkies that lay slumped against dumpsters, pain-filled moaning in spice-induced delirium. Droids with their internal components ripped out by scavvers were left helpless, eye-lens lacking any expression stared at the passerbys.

Nar Shaddaa was the galactic cesspit. You either fought every day to survive or you fell behind, and no one wanted to know just what falling behind meant on the Vertical City. Hacks plastic eyes scanned those around her, searching for threats unseen as she listened to Cato talk, "This Count Zero a frequent haunt for you?" She tucked her four hands into her jacket pockets and said absent-mindedly, "I suppose." She anxiously turned her eyes to the Jedi, never quite trusting her safety in this part of the city, "It's a nice place for a drink and to talk code. Doesn't beat Denons clubs but it does the job."

As they entered the station a whole new breed of rats scurried along. Roving bands of snickering teens who blasted synthwave from stereos hoisted on their shoulders. Corporate suits with briefcases in tow, talking on their comlinks about their latest figures on some chemical weapon. Badges who never gave up the fight when the Silver Jedi left, now acting as judge, jury and executioner on the streets, dealing death sentences to those who dared question their twisted idea of the Law.

Hacks wondered if Cato had any dealings with them, but thought it unlikely, Those badges were no better than the gangs in the lower levels. "We've got to catch the Ueno Line towards Hikone Markets," Hacks said to Cato as she approached the train gates, placing two mechanical hands on either side and quickly vaulting them. She never paid her dues for transport, and she wasn't going to start doing it anytime soon. She looked back at Cato as she waited for him, their train coming to a stop at the platform behind her.

 

[Cato Harth]

"Hm." Cato said little more as his focus had dispersed to the crowded path. One walk down a Nar Shaddaa street was enough to get an idea for the rest of the moon; A microcosm of its incalculable corruption, violence, and inequality. The acid in the air would have burned his nose, if he hadn't gotten used to it by this point. That same familiarity was the reason he kept his sights forward, relying mostly on his extrasensory abilities to register more peripheral stimuli.

Weakness was a crime on Nar Shaddaa. In his earliest weeks here, the fight not to try and help every wayward soul that caught his eye was ceaselessly frustrating. But now, he knew better than to try; Not for lack of a desire to, but simply because it was an impossible battle. Half of them either couldn't or didn't want to accept his help, and the other half would've tried to kill him for stepping out of line. Making any sort of impact was more a matter of cutting the head off the snake. But even then…

Well, Cato had plenty of moments where he questioned what he was even doing with his time.

Hacks vaulted over the turnstile, and the knight simply sighed. He'd be lying if he said he didn't have half a mind to do the same thing, but relented to his more courteous instincts by the time he approached. Slipping a few credits into the machine slot, it then beeped at him and unlocked the gate.

One more inconvenience interrupted his walk, as a gangbanger felt the need to shoulder check him as he moved past. They exchanged a glare, and the gangbanger shot a wad of spit onto Cato's boot before departing.

"Never gets old," He rolled his eyes as the pair squeezed into the claustrophobic subway car, each of their heads sticking out over most of the crowd. With little else to bother over at the moment, Cato found himself staring at Hacks. His brow slowly raised, until he finally mustered up the urge to ask, "So… Just how much of you is cybernetic, anyway?" Was that a rude thing to wonder? Frankly, he didn't know. He just thought they were cool.

Hacks​

 

[Hacks]

Hacks watched the brief encounter with the crim, puzzled why Cato did nothing when he was spat on. Just as the man walked past Hacks, she reached out for his face and pinched his nose between her cybernetic fingers, "Oh hey, got your nose!" she chirped and squeezed tight with mechanical strength. A loud pop then blood shot out from his nostrils. The thug shrieked in horror as she had shattered his bone with the ease of snapping a twig. He heaved in long whimpering breaths, reaching up to gently cup his crushed nose as Hacks let go.

Cato was in the carriage and Hacks retreated from the site and slipped through the train doors just as they closed. She looked to the Jedi, "Hey, down here, don't let folks disrespect you and get away with it. They'll think you're weak and an easy target." She looked back to the thug as the train departed, blood dripping from his chin as he stood hunched over on the platform. "I know the types. I was that type. You don't say or do anything, I know I'll get away with worse next time I see your face."

As Hacks eyes turned back to Cato, the man now too far out of sight, she noticed his staring. "So… Just how much of you is cybernetic, anyway?" he asked, studying her cybernetic physique, brow raised. She rolled her shoulders in a shrug, "Enough that there's not much of me left." In her shorts most of her legs were on display, powerful mechanics and smooth plates. Her heavy leather jacket and top hid the rest, she opened her jacket and pulled her top up enough to show Cato. "I'm mostly chrome these days," she said.

The flesh of her stomach met durasteel plates around her waist and hips, extending back to her spine. The cybernetics were extensive. Few parts of her were left untouched. "The only things of me that are still human are my organs, stomach, chest and skull, but they'll be gone soon too, at least that is the plan," Hacks commented, lowering her shirt and pulled her jacket taut. If Cato looked close enough he would notice her jaw was synthskin with lines above her cheeks where the real and fake flesh met. Her eyes rarely blinked, exhibiting an unnatural sheen. "My arms were the first implants I got," she remarked, holding up her two lower arms, "It is incredibly handy having four arms, can't even remember how I lived just having two."

Hacks wasn't just a slicer, she was an addict. An addiction that was consuming her soul and life, one implant at a time. A mod-junkie who pushed cybernetic enhancement to the extreme. With each new surgery she found her recovery took longer, the list of medications that kept her organs going was dizzyingly long, and her touch with reality slipping. She had lost most of what it meant to be alive. She could no longer feel the touch of someone, the warmth of holding a friends hand, or the kiss from a love. It was all cold, emotionless metal. These days all she lived for was spice highs and writing code.

 

[Cato Harth]

Hacks' display with the man at the station had shocked Cato, but he said nothing about it until they were in the train car, "I don't think that was necessary…" It was all about strength, sure, but with his Jedi training, Cato was pretty confident that the vast majority of Nar Shaddaa's lowlives couldn't outfight him if it came to it. If they tried something worse, they would find that out soon after. Still, he smirked, "But I'm flattered that you care so much."

When his question led her to begin lifting her shirt, Cato tensed up, unsure of how to react until she stopped short just to show off the cybernetics. "The only things of me that are still human are my organs, stomach, chest and skull, but they'll be gone soon too, at least that is the plan," The knight studied and listened with intense curiosity, only betraying more surprise when she voiced her intended plans. "All of it?"

"D'you ever…" He shrugged, trying to find the right way to ask, "I dunno, regret it? I mean I always thought stuff like that was cool. When I was a kid, I told my mom I was gonna cut off my arm so I could get a robot one instead," He laughed at the memory. He still imagined one would have its uses, but he wasn't exactly going to start chopping off limbs to accommodate, "But… at a certain point it's like… what's left, right? Ghost in the machine, and all that." Cato posited.

Hacks​

 

[Hacks]

"All of it? D'you ever…" Cato shrugged, "I dunno, regret it? I mean I always thought stuff like that was cool. When I was a kid, I told my mom I was gonna cut off my arm so I could get a robot one instead." He laughed, then continued, "But… at a certain point it's like… what's left, right? Ghost in the machine, and all that."

Hacks frowned, it wasn't something she had considered. Her obsession was so all-consuming that the mere thought of cybernetic regret wasn't a factor. She ran a hand over the shaved sides of her head where metal plates were fused through flesh and bone, and cosmetic spikes jutted out. "No, I don't think so," she answered, "It's given me more than I've lost."

Her eyes pierced his, staring down at him, "I can control things with my mind, and not like your hocus pocus Jedi ways. The processors imbedded in my brain translate thought to code. I need only think of what I want to do, and I can do it. It's why I'm the fastest code-jockey this side of the galactic belt." She held up her four hands and turned them over and stared at the crude metal fingers, "And four hands make quick work."

All business, there was nothing in her life beyond job. She had few allies and fewer friends. She lived her days as a loner, only talking to the occasional slicer who wants to trade secrets. She spent most nights holed up in her apartment slinging code for the suits, fuelled by copious amounts of spice. If Hacks had a healthy and normal social life she certainly wouldn't have softened so quickly to a stranger in an abandoned building, especially one who stood on the opposite side of the law to her.

The train came to a shuddering halt, the doors opened with a rusty grind and Hacks walked out onto the platform. She raised a pointed finger over the platform railing and in the distance to a club pulsing with neon green. "Count Zero," she said, lowering her arm and walking towards the stairs out of the station, "Not far from here." She looked over her shoulder as she walked, "So what's your story?"

 

[Cato Harth]

Cato seemed to frown a bit at her answer, but listened with continued curiosity. When she finished, he mulled over the information for a few moments before positing a new line of thinking, "So… You'd say you're happy? With the way things have turned out?" Hacks hadn't outwardly said as much specifically, which is precisely why he felt the need to distinguish the concept. Whether she had ever actually delved into that level of introspection, or simply didn't care to, he wanted to at least hear aloud.

Once the train doors opened, they poured out with the rest of the crowd and onto the platform. Sure enough, the club Hacks had pointed out was alive and thriving. He nodded, and joined her down the stairs.

"So what's your story?" She asked.

Cato chuckled, "My story? Ah…" A beat passed as he collected his thought, "Let's see. I was raised on Bonadan. Old school CorpSec shithole. They say it used to be beautiful, but I've only ever known it as a yellow-tinted wasteland. Corpos stripped the planet for everything of value a looong time ago. Now it's just cheap real estate for industry."

"Parents worked dead end jobs at the bottom of the corporate ladder. We lived in the slums like most of the other workers. Somewhere along the way I got caught up in playing messenger boy for a local gang," He pointed to the nape of his neck, where she would see a tattoo: the number 25 inked in New Aurabesh numerals, "Helped pay a few bills here and there. Mom didn't figure out until I was already a year in, and at that point I was too involved to walk away even if I wanted."

He shrugged as the rounded the staircase, "Eventually some Jedi registered my sister and I as Force-sensitive. Parents surrendered us to the Silvers, and I was trained with them ever since." Cato looked back at Hacks for some kind of reaction.

Hacks​

 

[Hacks]

[ Count Zero Theme ]

Hacks paid attention to Cato as she jogged down the steps and left the station, out onto the bustling streets of the Refugee Sector. His life sounded like that of the typical dirtkid living on Denon. Bonadan was on the far side of the galaxy to Denon, exiting in old school corporate space, yet she still somehow felt guilty.

When a fragmented faction of suits left Corporate space and moved to the Inner Rim ten years ago, she had been an instrumental tool in establishing Corporate Authority over Denon and its neighbouring systems. She may have not played a part in the way he was raised on Bonadan, but she was responsible for countless others now living just like that on Denon.

Hacks couldn't entirely relate to his own upbringing, if anything she was a rich brat brought low. Born into the One Sith Empire of old, daughter of a Grand Moff in the Imperial Navy. She was given into the care of the Red Raven Syndicate as a political ward. She spent her childhood surrounded by exuberant wealth, learned her trade as a slicer with the syndicate, and when they crumbled and the One Sith were defeated, a young teenage Himiko Ota fled for Hutt Space and assumed the slicer moniker Hacks.

She mulled over the question Cato had asked when they were still on the train. Happy? No, she was not happy. She couldn't recall a time when she had been truly happy. Her cybernetics brought her joy, but it never elevated her out of her depression. It was an all-consuming darkness born out of the life she lived. The gangsters who raised her, the suits that paid for her services, the runners who lost their lives on the job.

"No," she answered, "I'm not happy." But this place makes me happy, she thought as she walked into Count Zero. The green neon inside the club splashed out onto the streets and a holographic chrome skull loomed overhead. The thump of the latest synthwave vibrated down her metal spine, bringing instinctual shivers to the half-borg. Inside the club droids, cyborgs and organics all danced to the beat in an intoxicated stupor.

In the booths lining the outer walls eyes turned to see Hacks, some looked welcoming, others far less so. One figure in a brown trenchcoat never tore his gaze away from the duo, his cybernetic eyes glowed a hellfire red. A slicer known as Cypher, a regular of Count Zero and a close confidant of Hacks. She looked to him and gave him a comforting wave of her fingers, letting him know Cato was chill, then motioned to the jedi to go take a seat next to Cypher.

 

[Cato Harth]

Hacks' answer was simple, but that simplicity said plenty on its own. He couldn't pretend to know every little detail of her struggles, but he knew what this life could do to people. What this moon could do to people. Cato frowned, then tried to smile assuringly, "Well… Never too late to take a chance on something new," Whatever that might be, he intentionally left open for her interpretation. But those Jedi instincts just couldn't stand to not offer help.

There was little chance to dwell, as not long after, his ears and eyes were assaulted by the sensory overload that was Count Zero. Heavy synth and bright neon flooded his attention, creating an initial haze as he stepped into the club. Quickly, however, the Knight fell into line, finding his own enjoyment in the scene despite its darker undertones. A few glances were shot their way, some at Hacks, other at the newcomer. Mostly suspicious or just downright unpleasant, as if they instinctively knew he was a problem.

But Cato had no intentions of starting anything here, and he stuck closely to his cyborg companion until she gestured for him to sit with a particular patron. The knight weaved through the remaining crowd and slid into the seat, offering a raise of his brow as greetings. "So… come here often?" He quipped to the individual he'd just met.

Hacks​

 

[Hacks]

"So… come here often?" Cato quipped to the slicer. Cypher turned to meet the Jedi gaze, eyes of hellfire studied him for a long period, silent. Meanwhile Hacks slipped through the crowd with experienced ease, snaking her way to the bar. She cut the line and scooped up her drinks with echoing grunts of annoyance from those who waited patiently.


As Hacks made her way back to the table, Cypher asked Cato, "What's your deal?" The seven foot cyborg thundered into the booth, three drinks in tow, one slid towards Cypher and the other Cato, the last for herself. Beer, cheap as piss, and often tasted like it too. "It's the cheapest they've got," Hacks announced, "Just how I like it. Cheap is good."

She then slapped a metal backhand on Catos chest, "This is Cato, Cato, Cypher," she introduced them to one another, flicking her hand from Cato to Cypher. "He's one of them Jedi people you hear about," Hacks said with a flippant lack of understanding. Cyphers brow furrowed, but his glowing eyes never wavered. "He has an interest in taking down KV-N1, so we're looking for leads," Hacks said.

Cyphers eyes glanced around the club and slipped a hand under the table, thumbing an unseen button. Yellow light burst to life from the centre of the table, enveloping them in a vibrant, glowing shield that surrounding the booth in a bubble. Suddenly it was painfully quiet, noise could neither get in or out. A privacy screen. "I'd say people just don't help like that without wanting something," Cypher said, "Jedi are different though . . but they could also get us killed for simply being at the same table."

 

[Cato Harth]

Cato rolled his eyes and shrugged as the man refused to play along, “I need some new material.” Maybe he was the problem. He’d probably used that opener about a hundred times now.

The Knight took the offered beer dubiously, giving it a sniff before he raised the drink to his lips. Then Hacks smacked him on the back with a heavy metal hand, making the liquid spill a few drops onto his clothes, “Nice.” Still he couldn’t help an incredulous laugh at his misfortune, which seemed ready to worsen as Hacks casually mentioned his Jedi nature.

“Well, heyyy-” As flippant as Cato was, he fully knew the dangers of touting any claim of Jedi-hood around these parts. People already knew there was a new Watchman prowling the streets; He definitely didn’t need them knowing that Watchman was him.

They were enveloped in a screen shortly after, though, lending a bit of privacy to their motley crew. “Guess it’s a good thing I don’t go around wearing funny robes and swinging a laser sword then. Because I too would like to keep my head attached to my neck.” Cato craned to shoot Hacks a look. Any concern was quickly dropped, though, as was often the case with him, “But- yeah. KV-N1. Got any ideas?”

Hacks​

 

[Hacks]

"Guess it's a good thing I don't go around wearing funny robes and swinging a laser sword then. Because I too would like to keep my head attached to my neck." Cato craned to shoot Hacks a look, "But- yeah. KV-N1. Got any ideas?"

"Yeah," Cypher agreed, "I never got that robe shit, makes your type look stupid, how am I mean't to take someone in black bathrobes seriously?" Hacks reclined in her seat and enjoyed her beer, silent as she let Cypher do the talking. Cypher lit up a cigarette and leaned forward in his chair, "KV-N1 aren't easy to track, but they've got droids in here watching all the time."

Cypher took a drag then indicated a pair of protocol droids by the bar, conversing in binary. Then he moved his pointed smoke from the pair by the bar to another droid that was in the crowd on the dance floor. "They make their creds by pooling their collective knowledge. They are everywhere, watching what everyone does. They get away with it because no one takes droids seriously."

He took another drag from his cigarette and blew it up towards the ceiling of the energy dome enveloping them. "We see it all the time, no one gives a rats arse about the droids on the streets or the droids in the factories." He then shrugged his shoulders, "But I don't know where their hive mind is anymore, they used to be based out of that old enclave."

Cyphers glowing cybernetic eyes met Catos, "But finding them is half the trouble. You start talking about them even in whispers and their audioreceptors prick up. They've got legions of slicer droids to cut away encryptions to listen in what people say about them. I can't stop them, and Hacks here will have trouble too, they simply have more bodies to throw at issues they face."

He flicked the privacy screen and it shimmered, a wave of distorted energy rippling outwards. "But this techs old school, they won't be able to hear what we say, but what I'm going to suggest.. you'll want them to hear something soon. If you can't find KV yourselves then why not let them bring you to her? Let them know what you think of them and they might just black bag you and drag you back to the hive mind. You might get killed. . . but you know that Jedi magic stuff, it could work."

 

[Cato Harth]

Cato rolled his eyes a little as the man began insulting Jedi customs. He’d never been a huge fan of the monastic robes himself, but it wasn’t really the dialogue he was trying to open up.

Once they refocused their goals, he leaned in a little closer, occasionally glancing instinctively around them despite the ability to see any outside threats through their screen.

The ultimate suggestion offered at first puzzled Cato. He opened his mouth to say something, but only managed a chuckle, “So our only option is to literally talk shit until we piss them off?” He looked between the two of them, “For me to talk shit until I piss them off?” What appeared initially as dissatisfaction turned to an amused smirk as he mulled it over, “...Yeah. That sounds like a plan I would come up with.”

A final nod as if to confirm it to himself, “Okay. It’s dumb enough to work. Maybe. Anything else we should know before intentionally pissing off a robot mafia?”

Hacks​