The Fun Part

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Zeltros was one of the last places Rook would have ever chosen to go. Unfortunately, that did not mean he would never find himself there. The planet of sin was certainly not on his bucket list -- whether he liked it was going to be marked off before the day was through.

His shuttle had landed a few hours ago. In that time, he'd managed to navigate through two bars, a casino, and pleasure pool. All in all, he looked quite awkward in ceramic armor. It wasn't the most protective stuff, but it was lightweight, and more importantly, legal. If he'd strutted down the gangplank in military gear he would have been turned away. This would have to do.

A long coat black coat swung down to his midriff. It helped to hide the bulky, earthy-colored plate that protected his chest. He was forced to forego any sort of firearm too. Laws were stupid. For defense, and the inevitable conflict ahead, he'd smuggled a long vibroknife in his boot. The blade was laced with an ion coating -- the weapon would do its job.

His target? The droids. They were starting to turn up in this side of the galaxy. Big spindly things that looked like mechanical spiders. They moved liked droids, but talked like people, and threw ridiculous amounts of credits around. Some of the Jedi had already been sent to look into them on Ossus; right under the Republic's nose.

Rook? He took it upon himself to deal with the demons. They were the cause of much of his strife, and that of the galaxy itself. Few knew the root of their wars were the seemingly harmless sentient machinations.

It was said that one was seen in one of the nearby casinos. Stingers, or something like that. The place doubled as what the Zeltron called a pleasure palace. Not the kind of place Rook wanted to be, but ah, duty. He found himself striding through the doors, and the object of some attention. On any other world, his dark, unassuming getup would have fit in just fine. Here, against the bright blues, yellows, and reds, it made him stand out.

"Shab." He grumbled, making his way up a staircase. The building thrummed with loud music, and a thick cloud of smoke hung over the place like fog. It came from the various narcotics the Zeltrons and their visitors survived on. Shaking his head, he produced his datapad, and ran a scan of the place. Few noticed him now; they were all wrapped up in their own personal debaucheries.

The datapad rang. It had found a trail! Biting back some celebratory profanity, Rook turned to follow it. Of course, that trail might not exactly be the kind of droid he was looking for...

[member="Tiam Bai"]

 

[Tiam Bai]

Zeltros was an annoying planet. She had been here before with some crates that had caused more trouble than the payout. It has been awhile since Tiam had worked with [member="Kitt Solo"] and [member="Flint Michigan"] . Who knew what the two crazy kids were up to, probably making babies or something. The Pantorian just knew she hadn't seen the Detroit Nexu in the skies.


It was a big 'verse after all.


Yawning, Tiam looked around the club, taking a sip of her drink. Some contact was supposed to meet her here. Typical place for one. Lots of gyrating tourists. Date rape drugs flowing freely. Lots of bare skin. Which meant folks would be less apt to notice her or the business being conducted.


Zeltros, the one place a blue-skinned girl doesn't stand out.


The guy in the ceramic armor caught her eye. Like a shadow in a sea of rainbow colored folks. If Tiam had to place a bet, he was here to kill someone. Probably chose the area for the same reason. Everyone was too drugged up and horny to notice a damn thing.


Smart. Wonder if its about to go down here? Five credits tells me its some lovers quarrel. Bet this dude got hired by some rich guy.



[member="Rook"]

 

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Any other place, and Rook might have noticed a Pantoran. Here? Not so much. He just continued on following that trail. As fate would have it, the trail led right down next to the Pantoran. Now he paid her a bit of mind. Pretty, alien, the usual for Zeltros. No one for him to be concerned about. What did surprise him, however, was where the ion trail ended up. It was an open window; one that should not have been. It was just large enough for an average sized person to fit through. The bolts that had held it in place lay forgotten on the floor.

Amidst all the chaos of the party, no one seemed to have noticed. No one save for Rook. He placed one foot on the edge of the window, and leaned forward. Zeltros thrummed with life below, but what caught his attention was not the flashing lights, scantily clad women, or other attractions. It was the tall, spider-like droid standing on the balcony of the adjacent building. He stared at the thing for a moment. It did not move.

"Son of a-..." The machine moved. A shrill beeping could just barely be heard on the other side of the wall. Rook didn't wait for it to finish its short countdown. He doubled back, falling hard on his backside just as the wall erupted into flames. Permacrete and artificial wood rained down on the denizens within. Flames reached out to lick the legs of those standing too close. Rook was forced to covered his eyes from the blast. Something stung on his right arm, but the adrenaline dulled the pain.

He could not hear well over the screaming, nor see much aside from the smoke. What he could make out was the droid's movement across the way. What passed for Zeltronian cops would be arriving soon. His window was closing. Biting back a curse, he stumbled for the stairs.

Meanwhile, per the rather acute Zeltronian security system, a warrant was already being put out on Rook's head. His face had been captured right as the explosion went off. Most would assume he'd placed the bomb in a public place, and it had gone off prematurely. The notice was sent to the datapads of those nearby, and a credit reward was smacked on to it. A hefty one, at that.


[member="Tiam Bai"]

 

[Tiam Bai]

One minute she was sipping her drink, staring at the shadowy guy ([member="Rook"] ) and the next fire and brimstone was raining down on the place. Duracrete chunks fell everywhere, various folks were screaming. Tiam wasn't an idiot and took cover underneath the lip of the bar, starting to edge her way to the door.


Most were in a stampede towards the exits, crushing themselves ans one another. Needless to say she wasn't in a major hurry. By her guess the building wouldn't collapse right away. The bomb or missile or what no seemed to have gone off along one wall. Somewhere where shadow guy had been hanging out.


Bombing the place seemed a mite extreme. Unless whomever he was hunting down tried to out gun him first. A dangerous game of cat and mouse?


Either way, once she was out of this building, the contact would be long forgotten. It was straight back to her ship and into space. She'd find a job elsewhere.

 

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Well that was...unexpected to say the least. Rook knew the Architects were not the type to sit around and talk, but bombing a building? That always seemed below them. They'd never done anything that would knowingly harm civilians, save for their harvesting. It didn't make much sense. Of course, that wasn't particularly relevant right now. Rook needed to get out, an the smoke was making things a bit difficult. He could, at the least, confirm that droids' presence on this world.

Zeltros of all places.

He made out a single shape moving in the smoke. The Pantoran. He'd paid her no mind before, but something was nagging him now. She'd sat right next to the window. Was there the possibility of her involvement? Not likely, but she might have seen the droid prior to the bombing. It was a loose thread to cling to, but the droid was likely long gone by now. He couldn't just give chase.

So the soldier made for the Pantoran woman, likely following her outside. "Hey!"

[member="Tiam Bai"]

 

[Tiam Bai]

[member="Rook"]


Tiam had scuttled her way outside. Authorities were arriving, fire suppression units moving in to try to quell the blaze that had started once the building was attacked. She had some scrapes on her arm, nothing was bleeding thankfully. Not exactly the best of times to pass out at the sight of blood. Nimble fingers went through her short red locks, taming them down into something acceptable.


Boots still rapidly beat on the duracrete walkways, moving at a brisk pace. Chaos was slowly giving away to something more stable. On lookers were gathering to watch the commotion occur outside the nightclub. Tiam didnt think she was going to be interviewed by any authorities. It was best to stay away. If someone saw her talking to the Feds...well....she didn't need that target on her back as well.


A voice called to her and Tiam looked over her shoulder. Brow furrowed.


"Sorry flyboy, you're a little too pale for my liking."

 

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Shab.

It was around this time that Rook took note of the sharp pain in his right arm. It wasn't broken -- he could still move it without screaming -- but there was certainly something quite wrong. If he was truly unlucky, something might have chipped. He couldn't deal with a wound like that out here: too many people, too few places to stop, too many opportunities for the droids to take him out. His best option right now was to get some form of answers out of this woman, whatever those may be. Of course, it was quite likely she had no idea as to why what happened had happened. Unfortunately, Rook had no other leads to go off of.

So he gave chase.

A bloodied man covered in ash chasing a young woman down the road certainly did not look good. Fortunately for Rook, and unfortunately for the Pantoran, most of the authorities were caught up with the explosion. He didn't have much trouble following her. "Hey, I'm tan enough!" He grumbled, biting back a curse as the pain flared up in his arm once again. He really needed to get that looked at.

"Just a word miss. I'm not a cop -- just trying to figure some osik out."

[member="Tiam Bai"]

 

[Tiam Bai]

Tiam didn't have time to listen to his stories. She had heard the muttering, something about tan or pale or what not. Humans always got a little testy when an alien rejected them. Seems like the males had some pride issue about it. One would have to get over themselves in her opinion.


She could still hear his boot steps behind her as he continued to grunt in pain. How long was the creep going to follow her? He ([member="Rook"] ) finally spoke up. Wasn't a cop but wanted to "figure things out". Tiam wasn't an idiot. Shadow man seemed like a bounty hunter. A bounty hunter that would turn an innocent alien over to the authorities and use her as the face of the bombing.


No thank you.


Finally turning around after feeling she had a good distance on him, Tiam caught sight of the blood covered man. Everything suddenly got hot. She could hear nothing but pounding in her ears. Nausea hit her like a strong wave and her vision was quickly blurring.


Next thing one knew, the Pantoran was laying on the cold pavement, motionless.

 

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Kark.

One moment he was chasing the Pantoran woman down, the next she was sprawled across the pavement. Rook hadn't heard a shot, but he knew of some rifles that made next to nothing when it came to sounds. That might have been the case. The logical thing to do was make for cover but there were a few people around, and if he moved quickly enough, he should be alright. That did mean he would need to drag this woman off, one way or another. That was not going to look good. Didn't mean Rook was above it, though.

"Please don't be dead," he grumbled, "Please, please, please don't be dead." He came to a stop above the woman. There were few people around here -- most were busy with their own personal debaucheries. Zeltros wasn't the kind of place you could count on for safety. Sure, folks rarely took to any malevolent acts, but they were also a bit too distracted with their own carnal pleasures to notice when problems arose. That, and most people were still paying the burning building their attentions.

Rook took a moment to check that she was breathing. That answer was a yes. He couldn't make sense of any kind of wounds. If this woman had been shot, it was not with any kind of typical rifle. That made sense though. The Architects had a fetish for technology that really should not have worked. With grunt, Rook heaved the lady up over his shoulder, and made his way down one of the nearby alleys. The little road was host to a few holes in the wall; most of them abandoned. Rook chose the closest one -- a shop that had closed down relatively recently by the looks of it.

It didn't take much work to get the lock open; he just clipped it open with his plasma torch. The doors slid open, and Rook went inside. The store itself was relatively barren, save for a few chairs and a number of empty aisles. Rook chose two near the back of the store, set the Pantoran in one, and took to examining her. He shifted her shoulder; nothing. He lifted her hair up, still nothing. There was no blood on her clothes either. He checked her breathing once again: completely stable.

Did she just have a heat stroke?

What in Corellia's Nine Hells?

[member="Tiam Bai"]

 

[Tiam Bai]

[member="Rook"]



Tiam was dimly aware that her head was pounding. She was bordering in some gray area between conscious and unconscious. The Pantorian was fighting to wake up, to come to once more. Her eyes were slowly cracking open, where ever she was the lighting was fairly dim. In a seated position, Tiam came to rub her neck slowly. Nausea was still rolling through her and she dared not to do anything incredibly quickly.


In the dim light she could make out the Shadow Man sitting across from her. At least in this lighting she couldn't see most of the blood. It just left her with a woozy feeling rather than wanting to pass out and die all over again.


Mouth dry, she cleared her throat. Her voice was a little hoarse and she'd have to seek out water once she felt strong enough. Hopefully that would be sooner than later.


"I passed out....Blood and I don't mix."

 

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"Gods forbid you ever end up in a hospital sweetheart." He mumbled, reaching into his pocket for his datapad. A quick scan of the area eased his worries -- the droids ere not nearby. They were relatively safe. That was, unless this woman had some form of implant to communicate with the creatures. He'd seen it in the past. Rook would need to play this by ear.

"Name's Rook. Just wondering if you might've seen any droids in the joint that just exploded. Two meters high, look like big spiders, talk real fancy, you can't miss 'em." He lofted a brow, and took a seat alongside her. Pretty lady -- most folks were on this world. Fortunately he wasn't here for pleasure, and he probably wouldn't have indulged himself even if here were. Not that he could have. The bloody mugger look did not exactly get the kind of attention you wanted for that sort of thing.

"You've got a bit of blood on yourself too...you want me to patch you up?"

[member="Tiam Bai"]

 

[Tiam Bai]

Tiam lofted a brow. Shadow Man had gone full crazy. [member="Rook"] , if that was his real name, was chattering on about large spider droids that could talk like a professor. Maybe the man had injured his head in the explosions. Maybe he had a mental disability that caused him to see things. She would have laughed if not for the headache. The Pantorian focused on drawing in deep breaths of clean, cool air to ease her sickness.


Looking past the blood also helped.


"You know what I think? I think someone slipped something in your drink if you're seeing large talking spiders."

 

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"I wasn't drinking."

The soldier frowned. She wasn't taking this seriously. The damned building was bombed, why would she doubt him? He gave her a blank stare as he mulled it over. The problem with Rook was that he didn't understand people particularly well. He knew his brothers and sisters. He knew Stanley. He knew his mother. Strange woman who spent their rec time on Zeltros? Rook hadn't a clue. Sure, the Architects were a vague subject, and it was true that most of the galaxy had no idea they still existed, but would it hurt to listen to him?

Considering I chased her down and plucked her off the street, probably. This looks kind of bad.

Shab.

Rook sat up straight in his chair. He gave the woman a once over -- memorizing her features the best he could in the darkness to find her later if need be. He made a conscious effort to try an smudge some of the blood off his arms and shoulders. It wouldn't do to have her passing out on him again; not that he intended to stay around if she truly had no idea.

"Look, there are these droids. Semi-sentient. About six feet tall, look like spiders, talk like people. I'm looking for them, evidently they knew that. I think they bombed the place," he paused, "I'm a soldier for the Galactic Alliance, not a nut."

[member="Tiam Bai"]

 

[Tiam Bai]

[member="Rook"]



Why do I attract the crazy ones?



Tiam focused on breathing in and out, trying not to vomit or get too dizzy once more. She was going to have to get out of here shortly. Talking, six foot spiders? Sounded a little non-believable to her. Yes someone blew up the nightclub. Did she believe it was this man? No, not really. However she wasn't buying the spider story either. There were lots of unknowns in the galaxy but it didn't mean she had to believe everything heard on the streets.


Carefully she stood up, testing her legs. A little weak, a little shaky. Tiam should be able to slowly get back to her vessel.


"This isn't Galactic Alliance territory. All I hear is you guys have Sullust....last I checked this ain't Sullust."

 

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The whole galaxy might as well be mine.

She was right. The Alliance didn't have much jurisdiction at all beyond Sullust. Anywhere else and the rank meant nothing -- Zeltros especially. Why he'd thought it would give him some credibility was anyone's guess.

Suppose anything is better than nothing.

Rook pushed up to his feet. This lady wasn't going to be any help, and it was clear she wanted him out of her hair. Had their roles been reversed, he would have done the same. Grumbling a string of curses under his breath, Rook reached for a sidearm, realized it was not there, and shook his head. He'd have to get creative in dealing with these droids.

The problem? He didn't know Zeltros at all.

"I'll pay you to show me around," he blustered, "A few hundred credits to guide me through the seedier districts? They're good credits." He reached into his pocket, and produced two chips with some rather large denominations for emphasis. He'd seen what direction the droid went -- problem was he had no idea what route it might have taken. That, and he had no idea how to deal with the locals. Something told him this lady would.

"As for the Alliance...you're right. Throwing the title around has a bit of weight back home. Guess it just makes me sound pompous out here, huh?"

[member="Tiam Bai"]

 

[Tiam Bai]

Truth or credits?


Since the job didn't pan out for her, Tiam was going to either have to track down another haul here on Zeltros or swindle [member="Rook"] out of his hard earned credits. Tiam had only been to Zeltros once before. She had no idea where the seedy places were or what when on in them. Probably sex for money and drug use, seemed the basis for most seedy places around the 'verse.


C'mon Tiam, those are probably just Galactic Alliance coffer credits anyways....not like you're going to cause this guy harm.


"Yeah...sure, seedy. Lets go Mr.Pompous."


The blue skinned woman made her way out of the empty building. Fresher air was helping her feel a bit better, regain her head. Now the trick was trying to convince this guy she knew enough about Zeltros to get the credits. Thinking back to her time on planet, she remembered a sketchy place where she had landed.


"C'mon, we're headed out towards the landing docks."


She took off without even seeing if he would follow.

 

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Not the worst title.

Rook had no idea that the Pantoran was as much a visitor as he was. He had a tourist mentality: meaning that Tiam was not entirely human, and this was a world where most folks who weren't human were natives. It was a bit of an ignorant outlook, but one that worked just fine for the soldier. Perhaps in hindsight he would look regretfully upon his decisions. It was yet to be seen.

"After you," he muttered, "Never caught your name miss."

Regardless, he followed on after her like a loyal hound. Rook had never been the type for these 'party' worlds. He was a soldier, born and raised for the duty given to him. Sure, he'd been allowed rec time, but never anything like this. Such desires were discouraged by the officers, and some of the NCOs. One learned to suppress those urges for the sake of their health; both physically and mentally.

Force knew how many young guys had lost all their credits to a woman with cleavage. Such a fate wasn't going to befall Rook.

Of course, none of these thoughts were relevant to what was about to happen. The Architects were on Zeltros, they knew certain folks were here hunting them, and none of the ancient droids were at all happy with the possibility of being caught. They would bide their time, and when their hunters' guard was down, they would strike, and as they always did, they would win.

[member="Tiam Bai"]

 

[Tiam Bai]

[member="Rook"]


"Hmn?" Name, right. She had one of those. "Tiam is all you really need to know."


The Pantoran looked around as she walked. This looked like the location she had been at earlier....yes, she remembered making a wrong turn after landing late this afternoon. It was clear after a few blocks that the throngs of humans were starting to dwindle. More and more native Zeltrons were starting to mix in the streets. Those who were on the streets didn't look the most friendly.


Trash started to pile up away from these tourist-y areas. Barely clothed women that looked as if they crawled with a million diseases waited in small groups around corners. Tiam was certain a few folks were bounty hunters or warlord enforcers.


"Seedy enough for you? See anything you like? Prostitute talking spiders perhaps?"

 

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Rook kept step with Tiam. Things certainly seemed to match his expectations as they went further and further away from the tourist district. It was the women that caught his attention first -- partly because Rook was a man, and partly because they're presence was a clear indicator of a lack of law enforcement. That was something the droids would need given their operations. Sentient trafficking probably went on here; it would be no trouble at all for the Architects to purchase new subjects. They could move to and fro without having to worry about being picked out because of their bizarre shape. Zeltros was perfect for them. That made it perfect for Rook, too.

"As tantalizing as a six legged cyborg lover sounds, I think I'll pass," he snickered, "If that's what you're lookin' for though, sweetheart, I'm sure one of these fine ladies could accommodate you." He motioned toward the throng of women.

They motioned right back. A chill ran down Rook's spine. There was something uncomfortable about practitioners of the galaxy's oldest profession. It made Rook guilty simply for looking. He was sure a lot of them did the job because it paid well, but a number of them likely had to for survival. That alone made him uneasy. Shaking his head, Rook followed after Tiam, absently scanning the area with his datapad. He knew the droids' general signal -- he would find them eventually.

"Look, I'm sorry for chasing you. These droids -- I know they sound odd, but they're quite real. They've killed a few dozen people already. I'm here to do my best to stop that."

[member="Tiam Bai"]

 

[Tiam Bai]

[member="Rook"]


"Why would I want to be with another female? Especially a prostitute. I bet you're popular with all the ladies judging by your comments."


Tiam listened to him prattle on about the giant six-legged spiders again. He obviously seemed concerned about them. Now either he had her bring him here to find more spice to see these giant spiders or he really saw them. Mental illness?


In her time travelling the space lanes, she had seen and heard of some really vicious bounty hunters that were of the droid variety. History had a long string of them that had been passed through the ages. It was quite possible that Mr.Pompous was wanted and now being chased down. Bounty hunters rarely cared about collateral damage, especially inorganic ones.


"Hmn, good luck with that."