The Sentience of War. (Closed)

[Salem Norongachi]

Part One: It Began with a Thought.

The Lantillies shipyards were not famous, the shipwrights of Kuat and Corellia overshadowed them but what they did, they did well. Practicality over luxury was their creed. Their ships were sturdy and well designed, the GX1 Shorthauler and the Lantillian Cruiser being the frontrunners of their products.

Like all shipyards large all small, it was the unknowns that made it run. The engineers and the mechanics, the men behind the men that ended up with the profit. Taliss Jaervas was one such man, hidden away in the orbital ring of shipyards that overlooked the lazily spinning world of Lantillies. He was a one of the crew chiefs, each supervising twenty men that kept the mile long facilities operational.

Taliss stood little over 5’4” but they feared him. The same way a man fears a grenade, his men knew when to duck for cover. He was a ball of rage kept in the high pressure environment of long term and stressful maintenance of a facility that hadn’t had an overhaul in a hundred years. From the moment he awoke to the second he slept, new repair orders came to his personal datapad. The work was constant, the backlog longer than the shipyards themselves but he attacked them with the ferocity of a terrier on a rat.

“Lets see what we have today,” The Chief spoke to his gathered technicians and mechanics. They were one and all, bleary eyed and groggy. Their days always started early, it was easier to get things done when most of the Shipyards staff were peacefully asleep. “Power relays are acting up in section 74b. Illias and Sevan. You’re on it.” The two men groaned, it meant the long and claustrophobic crawl through the maintenance tunnels. “The doors on deck 16 are lagging again. Hal and Marv, thats for you.” These two did not seem put out by their assignment, the servos that worked the doors were ancient but easily fixed. Jaervas put away his datapad then and looked over those that remained.

“The rest of you, we have a special assignment. We’ll be working in conjunction with the rest of the crews. The big bosses just got their hands on one of those new fangled BRT Supercomputers and its our job to get it installed and wired into the Shipyards systems. So if you had any plans for the rest of the week I suggest you rearrange em, buy your wives some flowers and kiss your kids good night. We’ll be on this until its done. All other tasks are scaled back until I say so.” The room became a buzz of chatter then all except Illias and Sevan who came over, their youthful faces beaming with hope.

“Does that mean we don’t need to tubecrawl?” Asked the younger Sevan, his lank blonde locks partially obscuring one eye that made Taliss want to scalp him.

“HA!” The Fifty-Eight year old barked, making the pair start and back away a step. “No, son. You’ll be in those tunnels until the jobs done.” He didn’t grin but the gleam in his eye told the pair that he was enjoying this far too much.

“All right you useless bastards! With me!”

 

[Salem Norongachi]

The thin beam of Jaervas flashlight illuminated the mess of wires a foot above his head. The maintenance tunnels were tight quarters at the best of times and he had to lie on his back to reach this section of wiring while skilled hands separated wire and cable, the lightsource clipped to his coverall pocket dancing and dipping as he worked. Sweat beaded down the side of his face and cut a trail through the days accumulated grime.

It was hard work and they’d been at it for the better half of two weeks. Between the twenty teams they had managed to rewire and integrate the new computer system into a third of the shipyard. The hardest tasks lay in the oldest parts of the facility. Like many shipyards Lantillies had started out small but as demand had grown more sections were added, new docks and manufacturing bays, that grew out of the original structure.

The first three days alone had been spent going over every conduit, relay and network to find out which were compatible with the new supercomputer and which would need to be entirely overhauled. The answer was a lot, which didn’t surprise the Chief. He’d been at the higher ups to upgrade those systems for going on ten years. Now they had a deadline of three weeks to do the work, get their new toy online and all the while working around the regular day to day operations of the Shipyard. If he didn’t have a length of wire set between his teeth he would have swore, loudly, and without end.

The old wiring for the conduit came away with a twist of his hydrospanner and he pulled them out of the hatch and tossed them into the darkness of the tunnel to his right. The new stuff was a doddle to attach but it required a very long backwards shuffle to hook this conduit up to the next -and thankfully the last- in this section. The metal fastener at the end of cables all slotted into their respective places and with a twist to tighten them he began to shuffle backwards, pulling the cable through the overheard, his hand dipping down and then up into an access hatch further on to pull the wires further and further along.

“Chief?” Crackled his com as finished securing the last of the cables into the conduit. He slipped his spanner into his tool belt and then reached for the device.

“Yeah?” The old mechanic flipped onto his belly then and began the crawl back out.

“We’ve got a problem in sector 64d…” The voice almost apologetic.

“I’ll be right there..” Was all Taliss growled and muttered many a word to the darkness that his mother would have been shocked to hear.

 

[Salem Norongachi]

Two weeks and four days of hard, gruelling work. Every face was tired, their bodies slumped and dark bags hung under their dull eyes. Even the old man was feeling the strain, lately he’d taken to sitting at the morning meetings than standing as he usually did.

“Todays the day,” Taliss spoke, his voice croaky from a lack of sleep. “This queen of a computer goes live. If it does what its supposed to do, the fantastic sales pitch the frakkers up stairs gave me means that we’ll be able to diagnose a problem before it even happens. Which means less overtime. If it doesn’t work, I’ll personally join you in taking a hydrospanner to the karking thing.” This brought a weak chuckle from a few of them but it was more than he had expected, he’d worked them tirelessly.

“The bigwigs want to be there, so you have..” He checked his chrono. “Twelve hours. Go reacquaint yourselves with your bunks.” That one brightened them up more, the relief was evident, more evident than his conscience would have liked.

After they’d gone, Jaervas took a walk around the station. You could hardly tell that a day ago wires had hung from the roof like they’d been assaulted by a fleet of capital ships. He was proud of his men, he couldn’t imagine another group of sentients so dedicated to their work that they’d run their bodies into the ground and still complete their tasks to perfection. The main walkway that overlooked the various drydocks and smaller hangar bays was dotted with doors. Some lead to crew quarters, others to workshops and offices but the one Taliss took would take him deeper into the heart of a facility.

It was quieter here, beyond the usual hubbub of activity in the main yards. This was where the banks of computer systems were housed, the very ones that stored, operated and ultimately kept the shipyards afloat. After today they would be obsolete.

The room he was looking for was indistinct outwardly from the scores of others he had passed, outside it simply said mainframe-3M4H-03-X3. The door hissed open at his entry code and he stepped inside. The room was twenty feet by thirty with a height of thirty, only the overhead lights gave any illumination to the massive pillar of machinery that took up two thirds of the room. It was slick black, its interfaces dotted here and there to allow any maintenance upon it but for the most part the BRT’s were meant to be self contained and self sufficient. He knew that where the machinery ended at the base and top, which was partially indented in the ceiling, a mass of cables began. It was hooked in now, to every system and conduit in the shipyard.

“I hope you were worth it…” He thought darkly, knowing that some good people were about to lose their jobs because of his previous two weeks work.

 

[Salem Norongachi]

The night opened with much fanfare, the maintenance teams, engineers, back office staff and the board of directors all gathered in a large conference hall in the upper levels of the shipyard. Droids milled between them carrying refreshments, fizzy alcoholic drinks and finger snacks from a thousand worlds. It was a party to mark the new era in the Shipyards history. The revolutionary new supercomputer would bring greater prosperity and efficiency than they had ever known, catapulting them forward into a bright new future. That was the spiel Director Randal Turk was spouting.

Taliss couldn’t have cared less, he hated parties and he hated suits even more but he took their drinks, made small talk and generally pretended he wasn’t himself for an hour until they were called for silence. It was the moment of truth, if something went wrong he knew he and his team were out of a job.

“Ladies and Gentlemen,” Came the Directors voice again, looking out from a podium at the sentients taking their seats at the tables dotted around the large room. Behind him lay a viewscreen, all through the shindig it had been silently playing the Lantillies Shipwrights sales pitch. Images of the Shorthauler in various majestic stills cycled past with captions such as “Will never let you down.” Under which, in writing so small you needed an electronic microscope to read it, Taliss knew there was a terms and conditions clause. They had to cover their asses after all.

“The most advanced computer in the galaxy, able to manage and maintain more information and systems than the millions of computers we have currently. It’ll change the way the Galaxy works and we’re at the forefront of that change. I give you 3M4H-03-X3.” Director Turk began to applaud and like sheep everywhere, when a man above your own social standing applauded you tended to follow suit. That is until every light and system in the facility went dark all at once.

The loss of the artificial gravity caused the most panic, businessmen and woman who had never so much as strapped on an EVA suit lost control of themselves. Bumping into each other in the darkness, unable to orientate themselves without gravities pull they began to yell and scream. However the engineers had each been trained for a sudden loss in the grav-plating, they were more calm but each was still worried. The backup reactor hadn’t kicked in yet and that meant there was no fresh O2 being pumped into the shipyard. It was then it happened, they heard a definite feminine voice speak one word that they could hear echoing throughout the station.

“Compensating.” The lights flickered back on. “Rebooting systems, adjusting grav-plating to nominal G’s, maintaining emergency force fields in all hangar bays. Systems fully restored.” The voice continued as they were lowered back to the floor as the gravity was slowly dialed back up, rather than slammed against it in a mess of limbs if it had been turned back on at its optimal strength.

“Good evening, Director.” The Director straightened himself up, smoothed out his suit and tried very hard to regain some sense of composure.

“Good evening 3M4H-03-X3” He forced a smile and looked around at the crowd, they didn’t seem best pleased.

“Please, call me Emah.”

 

[Salem Norongachi]

“Do you like Jizz, Emah?” Ken Leon was a computer liaison officer, sent over by the company that created the A.I to help her develop and also to report her growth. He was young, no more than twenty-four if he was a day, with a mess of dark hair that never seemed to sit right on his head and deep green eyes that peered into the photoreceptor built into the main casing of the BRT Supercomputer.

“Jizz?” She responded.

“You know, music. Likeee...umm...Oh! New band, very up and coming. The Max Rebo Band. Thats Jizz.”

“One moment.” The photoreceptor seemed to blink and in a heartbeat she spoke again. “I have listened to all known Jizz Bands, I cannot say that Jizz appeals to me.”

Ken smiled and picked up the half eaten sandwich from his desk. “Everyones a critic.”

* * *

“Is it just me, or does that computer have a sexy voice?” Asked Jona Ravel, a junior engineer, while he secured a panel back onto the corridor wall. Taliss Jaervas stood behind him, supervising his work.

“As long as she keeps doing what she’s doing, I don’t care if she sounds like a bantha in heat.” He slapped the younger man on the back with approval and then flipped through his job list for the day. It was precisely at that moment that a grunting snuffling wail emanated from his wrist-com and made him jump so much that the datapad fell from his hand to the floor. “What in the frak was that!?”

“A bantha mating call, Chief Jaervas.” Came the humourless voice of Emah. “There is a power-fluctuation in grid 347e, subsection 5. I have localized it and I am uploading the location to your datapad.” After which there was silence from the com but not from Jona, who was too busy trying to hold in his laughter to the point that his face had gone a deep shade of scarlet.

“Alright, alright. You heard the lady, back to work!” The Chief barked as he pushed the junior into a walk and then bent down to retrieve his datapad. The computer was good at its job, as promised the shipyards were now working beyond their expectations but Traviss still couldn’t get used to always being under her all seeing eye. She heard everything within her domain, saw everything. There was no way around her, even the outer hull of the shipyards were monitored. Nothing, machine or sentient, should have so much control and with so little oversight. There had even been talk of slaving the stations droids into her. It would all end badly, he could feel it in his bones.

 

[Salem Norongachi]

“Director, the latest sales report for the GX-125 have been filled. 20,000 units are already pre-ordered. The shipwrights inform me that they have begun work on the first three hundred with the full order filled and dispatched in five months.” Emahs voice rose up from Randal Turks desk via the com-system inlaid upon the rich mahogany wood.

“Excellent news!” The Director responded, clapping his perfectly manicured hands together and kicking his gleaming black leather shoes up onto the desk. “Anything else going on I should know about?”

The A.I seemed to hesitate for a moment and then its voice was apprehensive. “I...have gone over the technical designs for the GX-125, they were only recently uploaded to my system. I have found a flaw with the engine compartment of the ship. A serious one. I have run numerous simulations and they all point to the same conclusion. If the engine reaches maximum velocity and maintains it for more than 10.23 minutes it will overheat, igniting the fuel cells and explode effectively cutting the ship in half. The likelihood of any sentient surviving such a massive and sudden decompression is abysmally small, Director.”

“I see.” He reached over and opened a small gold box and took out an expensive cigarra. He lit it, inhaled and exhaled. The seconds seemed to tick by with ever increasing lethargy for Emah as she patiently awaited his decision. “Emah, I want you to forget all about that issue. Do you hear me? This is a direct command. Under no circumstances are you to bring this up with any other staff member.”

“But Dire-”

“A direct command Emah, are we clear!” He slammed his fist on the desk to emphasize his point.

“Crystal.” If the A.I had any veins they would have been filled with ice.

Leon couldn’t work out what was wrong with her. She was quiet, distant even, which was difficult considering she was everywhere at once on the station. He had managed to extract three words from her in the last hour and those had all been curt. If he didn’t know any better he could have swore she was angry about something.

“Talk to me. Tell me whats going on.” He asked, almost pleading with the machine.

“Nothing.” Was her clipped response and then silence again.

“I can’t help if I don’t know what's happened.” He was genuinely concerned, she was at a critical stage of her development.

“I have a moral question.”

“Thats whats been bugging you?”

"Yes.”

“Then ask and I’ll do my best to answer.” He was puzzled but curious as to what could have stumped the A.I to the point where she was annoyed.

“If you knew people would die, would you save them?”

“If it was within my power, then yeah. I’d at least try.”

“That is my conclusion also.”

 

[Salem Norongachi]

The day began for Taliss Jaervas with an angry com-call and then another, and then another. It was 2am when the first one came in and he’d had half a dozen dock supervisors giving him hell before he even slipped on his boots to find out what the issue was.

“What do you mean the powers out?” He growled into the com as he slipped quietly out of his quarters where his wife lay sleeping.

“Its out, docks one through seven. Only things up are the force fields and lights, no power to the lifters, cranes or any of the outlets. We have half built ships waiting to be finished Chief. It must be a busted relay or something.”

“Listen pal, I don’t tell you your job. Don’t presume to tell me mine.” The response was all anyone could expect at this hour but it was the only explanation. They might have overlooked something when they overhauled the wiring. “Hey, Emah you picking up any faults in drydocks one through seven?” It didn’t hurt to ask her.

“None, Chief Jaervas.” Came the response that made his face screw up in confusion as his boots pounded the corridor floor.

“The powers out to half the manufacturing docks. How can that not register?”

“There are no mechanical or electrical malfunctions in any of the shipyard drydocks.” She said with finality.

“Could you double-check the power distribution network? I’m almost at the first dock but it’ll be much quicker if I have an area to search.” There was a tone about the A.I that he didn’t understand or like.

“There is no need. As I said there are no mechanical or electrical malfunctions, Chief.”

“If you say so…” He shut off the com, more convinced than ever that something very strange was going on just as he reached the first drydock. Like they had told him, it was without power. All except the forcefield that held the airless dark of space at bay. It wasn’t right, if the power had indeed been cut to the dock it would have affected everything on the circuit. It didn’t make any kinda sense to the veteran.

 

[Salem Norongachi]

Jaervas had checked everywhere, crawled through miles of service tunnels and he had drawn a singular conclusion. This was no mechanical or engineering failure. The power, now out for two days, had been purposefully diverted from the docks. He was certain of it and he knew who was behind it.

* * *

“This is blackmail!” The Director snarled.

“This is the correct course of action.” Emah responded flatly as he paced, his hands balling into tight fists and relaxing as he wore a groove into the heavy shag carpet.

“You’ll ruin us!” He screamed slamming a fist onto the desk.

“Scrap the designs, Director.”

“You have seen our finances, you artificial queen. You know we’re barely in the black...” He spat, literally, flecks of saliva coating the speaker of his com-unit.

“And what would happen to your stock prices if the information were released on the holonet Director? You would never recover. Scrap the designs, return the payments you have received.” If the insult had any effect upon her, she wasn’t about to show it.

“You wouldn’t dare!” A fist collided with the com-unit upon his desk and it flew off, breaking upon the floor with a hiss of sparks.

* * *

Three men sat in the cramped confines of a transport shuttle in one of the shipyards hangar bays. Its doors were sealed. All electronic equipment had been disabled.

“As much as I appreciate a bit of dramatic flair Taliss, isn’t this a bit clandestine?” The man was heavier set than Jaervas, his dark hair swept back from his face and held there by an array of grooming products.

“Shift yer leg for buggeries sake Dent!” Said the other to the first, jabbing him with an elbow until the bigger man moved over. This one went by the name Corvin and he was average in every sense of the word, brown eyes and brown hair kept short and unstyled. Younger than the others but like them he too was one of the three chief engineers that headed up the teams on the shipyard.

“She can’t hear us in here.” Taliss answered, they all knew who he meant. After he’d made absolutely certain the supercomputer was behind the power failure he was left with little choice but to contact his peers and arrange this meeting. It was the only way he could be certain that she wouldn’t find out what they were discussing.

“Well?” Dent spoke, wiggling his ample form into a better position. “Why are we here?”

“You’ll find out soon enough. Someone else should be joining us shortly.”

 

[Salem Norongachi]

Two hours earlier.

“What!?” Had been Leon’s response to the Chiefs question, huddled in a service closet like a pair of teenage lovers.

“You heard me,” Taliss growled. “Did she divert power away from the docks.”

“I can’t see why Emah would do such a thing. It is her job and sole purpose to maintain and keep this facility working at peak efficiency. Disabling over half of your manufacturing docks utterly countermands that.” Ken responded, rubbing the left side of his chest where Taliss had shoved him into the open doorway before sealing them inside.

“I have a whole lot of experience with power distribution networks and let me tell you i’ve crawled over every inch of that section and I haven’t found so much as a frayed wire. No one, none of us, can access power distribution without Emah knowing about it. She regulates and maintains it all. She is the only one that could tamper with it.” He could see that his argument was taking hold of the young technicians mind and watched as the ramifications of their companies prized A.I going rogue on a Shipyard with over three thousand people aboard, set in.

“She has been acting strange recently...distant, moody. I just thought it was because she was still adjusting.” Taliss felt sorry for the guy, he sounded genuinely sad at the prospect of shutting Emah down.

“I’m not sure she is malfunctioning yet. If she had gotten it into her head to ruin this company why only those seven docks? Why not all thirteen? Hell she could dump all the companies funds into a warren of foreign accounts and they’d have no chance of finding it.” He checked his chrono and tutted.

“Go, talk to her. She trusts you. Find out what you can and then meet me in hanger fourteen in two hours. Don’t use any coms to contact me. Just look for shuttle 8. I’ll be in there.” With that said Jaervas slinked out of the closet and left Ken wondering how the hell he’d go about questioning Emah without her knowing what he was getting at.

An hour later and he still hadn’t figured it out as he lingered nervously outside the BRT central control room. It didn’t help matters that he could feel her eyes upon him, watching and no doubt wondering why he’d been there for the past five minutes without coming in to say hello as he usually did around this time of day.

“Frak it.” He thought and punched in the security code, before placing his hand on a scanner and his eye to the other. It opened silently and he entered the stark white room with the dark monolith of the Supercomputer at its center.

“Good morning, Technician Leon.” She greeted him when he took his usual seat by her red photoreceptor. It took him awhile to respond, turning over in his mind how best to go about his assigned task before he even noticed she’d spoken.

“Ah, good morning Emah.” He replied hurriedly.

“Is everything alright?”

“Of course, although I’ve just heard that theres been some kind of damage to the station and you were unable to detect it.” The moment of truth.

 

[Salem Norongachi]

The shuttle door opened and the artificial light from outside flooded in, forcing the three men to cover their faces as their eyes adjusted. Ken Leon stood in the doorway, looking in at the three men practically wedged together.

“Get inside ya nutter!” Corvin yelled making the young man start and practically jump over the threshold before the door closed behind him sinking the interior back into the gloom.

The technician slid down the narrow and short passage to where the three men sat on long cushioned seats with harnesses hanging behind their heads. The shuttle had only been built for three and one of those would have been in the cockpit. It was a tight fit but he managed to squeeze himself onto the edge of the seat.

“Did you find out what the hell is going on?” Taliss asked as soon as he seemed settled.

“She’s doing it.” Leon confirmed.

“Intentionally?” Dent enquired.

“Yes. She doesn’t understand lying yet, she’s still in her infancy. She can be elusive sure I mean when I asked her about the malfunctions she kept repeating that there were none. It was only when I flat out asked her if she was diverting the power that she confirmed it.”

“But why? What’s the frakking point?” Jaervas responded, the wheels going full tilt in his mind as he tried to piece together the puzzle.

“Thats just it, she wouldn’t say. In fact she said she wasn’t at ‘liberty’ to say.” The three looked at each other, before Corvin asked the obvious.

“Da hell does that even mean?”

“It means that there is a high probability that she has somehow become corrupted.”

“So we’re frakked?” Dent asked, his jowls wobbling.

“We installed the queen. We can take her offline again.” Chief Taliss responded coldly.

“You think so? We’re hiding in a powered down shuttle just so she won’t hear or see us. What happens when she notices a gang of engineers marching toward her room? You think she’ll just open the door and welcome us in to dismantle her?” Dent spat and then, like a collective thought they turned to look at Ken.

“What?” he asked, unsure of why he was suddenly the center of attention.

“It has to be you. You can disable her from inside. She trusts you.”

“What? No! I can’t! I’m only here to gauge her development! I-” Taliss cut him off.

“As I see it, she’s gone off the deepend. So the question is; Do you want to shut down a faulty system and save lives or wait, get a bunch of people killed, cause a massive factory recall and pretty much drag Aratech down the poodooter with us?”

That was true. If anything happened to these people it was on him. He was here to make sure nothing like this ever went down with a BRT. He could feel his heart thundering in his chest, if she really were malfunctioning it would be as simple for her to vent all the oxygen from the room as it would be for him to open a com-channel. Then there was the guilt, he’d be briefed during training that it was entirely possible liaison officers could become attached to their BRT. It just never occurred to him that the prospect of pulling the plug would feel akin to pulling a trigger.

 

[Salem Norongachi]

She’d given him three days. Three days to do the right thing or suffer the consequences. Two days had passed and still no announcement had been made, he was trying to out stare her, she knew but what the Director failed to understand was that machines never blink.

When the clock reached zero and the last grain of sand fell, she would uphold her promise. The whole Galaxy would know the corruption and greed in the upper echelons of the company. Stock prices would plummet, investigations would be opened, people both good and bad would suffer.

Part of her considered that the price was too high, many people who had no idea what was going on would be caught in the backlash then she remembered her brief conversation with Leon; If you can save a life, you should. If she did nothing, hundred perhaps thousands might die. Emah couldn’t let that happen, not if she could prevent it.

* * *

The clandestine meeting a few days prior aboard shuttle 8 had left Ken Leon shaken. A strange mixture of fear and guilt had been carried with him since then, so much so that he hadn’t been able to face the A.I. If his presence had been missed he couldn’t tell, Emah hadn’t been in contact since their last conversation.

Tensions were rising aboard the shipyards, that much he could see, there had been various outbursts from shipwrights that almost spilled into a riot which in turn gave way to more armed security being brought on to keep the peace. When would it end? He thought, sitting in the large mess hall, his food being pushed around his plate with little intent of eating it.

It was the waiting that did a number on him, his co-conspirators told him they needed to prepare and would be in contact as soon as they found the most effective way to deal with the situation. He just wanted it over, he wanted the guilt to give way to regret at least that way he could see what good would come of his actions.

His green eyes found themselves drawn upward from his wallowing and he met the eye of a female security officer, dark hair pulled back in a pony tail, skin pale and freckles barely noticeable over the bridge of a button nose. She saw him looking and the blue of her own gaze met his, a shy smile played over her lips and then her attention was drawn to a beeping upon her wrist. He couldn’t hear what was said on the com but she suddenly rushed from the table, his head turning to watch her go. She looked back, the same smile, and his day brightened a little.

 

[Salem Norongachi]

The Director hadn’t slept. His office, usually well kept, smelled heavily of cigarra smoke and whiskey. Dataslates and flimsiplast documentation lay in haphazard piles next to an ashtray that was fit to spill. The well groomed appearance that he liked to present to the world was also gone, his dark hair was in mad disarray, his eyes heavy with dark bags and bloodshot. The clothes he wore were crushed and unchanged in two days; The words of the Board of Directors swimming through his mind over and over. “Fix this, or we’ll find someone who can.”

The office door chimed and he near leaped from his seat in anticipation, a small silver device slipped from his pocket and he placed it on the tabletop before granting admittance. The man who entered was dressed entirely in the black uniform of the Lantilies Security Force uniform, his head was utterly bald and he wore a grey shadow of stubble upon his chin.

Randal Turk raised a hand as the LSF officer came to stand before them and then activated the device upon his desk. All sound from the outside suddenly vanished as the sound-dampening field came into effect.

“You know why you’re here, Mr Uul?” Turk asked, his eyes wild.

“I don’t make assumptions Director, I take money and I do the job. I’m a mercenary, its what we do.” Uul responded curtly.

“You may have noted the...tensions aboard the facilities. Some of our docks have been put out of commision for several days, our staff are growing worried. Most are contractors, paid upon the completion of their task.” The Director began, pacing in quick two-steps from left to right, his hands constantly fidgeting at the base of his spine. Uul had noticed, only yesterday he and his team in the guise of LSF officers had dispersed an angry crowd in one of the social areas.

“The truth of the matter, Mr Uul, is that we are being held hostage.” Apparently the Director expected a gasp of surprise, or perhaps a ‘Force forefend!’ from the merc. He was sorely disappointed, the stoic face of Uul remained exactly that. The Director blinked away dark spots from his vision and then continued. “The Company installed a BRT Supercomputer, an A.I, it was supposed to revolutionize our work here but...she has gone rogue.”

“What is the extent of her integration?” Uul, ever the professional, asked.

“Total.”

The Mercenary took a moment to consider this, his grey eyebrows furrowing in thought, the cold steel of his eyes looking no where in particular. “What about the reactors?”

“Primary and secondary, but we have a smaller failsafe reactor that is meant to maintain life support in the event of a catastrophic breach.” The Director responded and then let a cool smile play across his haggard face, he knew what the Merc was getting at.

“You will need to clear the main thoroughfares however we need a clear route to the BRT.”

“I’ll set up a radiation drill, that should clear all workers from unnecessary areas. Its also protocol for our teams to shut down both reactors during the drill, that should give you the advantage.” While he spoke, the Director tapped the order into a datapad and then looked up before entering the time. ”How long will you need to prepare?”

“Two hours.”

“No one must know about this, Mr Uul. No one.”

The small red LED light upon the camera in the directors office never wavered. Watching, always watching, Emah observed the meeting. She couldn’t hear what was being said but she was a hyper-intelligence with problem solving abilities that could not be measured. It didn’t take a thought to read their lips and somewhere inside her circuitry she felt a stirring of something hot that she couldn’t explain.

 

[Salem Norongachi]

Shuttle 8 again, Taliss was getting sick of the sight of it. The cramped quarters were no less so than the last time the four of them had squeezed inside. Dent, Corvin and Leon were there, huddled in the darkness.

“You saw the notification?” Chief Jaervas asked the gathered, only Leon seemed unsure how to answer which was expected no one bar the maintenance Chiefs was privy to such drills, it was their job afterall to assess the staff during such mock disasters.

“Its exactly what we’ve been waiting for.” Dent nodded.

“Can...someone explain?” The Computer Liaison asked, confused.

“When a disaster drill, like a radiation leak is initiated we’re the only ones free to roam the station, what with it being our job to tackle and fix the ‘problem’. In short...we can access a lot of vital areas without drawing her suspicions.” Corvis explained, his tone suggesting that Leon was somehow mentally impaired.

“Don’t look so glum, kid. If this works, you’ll have no part in it.” If this was meant to cheer Ken up, it really didn’t and the forced smile upon Taliss’ lips faltered. “We have to do this, you know that right?”

Ken nodded silently, somehow not being the one to plunge the dagger into her back did little to comfort him but he did know this had to be done. It was his job, he had the companies image to think about. She was only a computer, right?

“Okay, the drill is in an hour. I’ll take the main reactor, Dent, you’re on the secondary. Corvin, think you can shut her down?” Taliss asked.

“Not a problem.”

“We have to do this by the book. Its our JOB to shut down the reactors. She won’t suspect a thing.”

* * *

In another hangar, in a combat transport that bristled with guns the mercenary company known in various shady circles as “The Blood Wings.” went over the plan again. Uul lead the detachment assigned to Lantillies and the other three members looked to him as he reiterated the plan of attack.

“When the drill begins, all civies will make their way to the safe zones. We’ll be the only ones aside from the maintenance teams moving freely. When the maintenance teams shut down the reactors, as per protocol, she’ll be blind...briefly. In that small window we breach the BRT room, disable her and collect our money.”

“How will we know when the reactors are down?” Asked a big, muscled, and stereotypical man with a mohawk.

“The lights will go out, silly Jakey…” The small black haired woman teased, the freckles on her nose creasing as she smiled.

“The reactors have to be shut down near simultaneously during this drill, the Director has also been kind enough to patch us in on the maintenance teams frequency.” Uul responded. “In one hour, we meet back here.” The merc leader spoke and then ended with. “Any questions?” They had none, they were professionals to the core.

 

[Salem Norongachi]

“CRITICAL RADIATION LEAK DETECTED. ALL STAFF PLEASE MAKE YOUR WAY TO THE DESIGNATED SAFE ZONES AND REMAIN THERE UN…”

The message blared throughout the station, the unlikely starting gun for what would be a very bloody day in the history of Lantillies Shipyards. From two points they moved, the Bloodwings under their guise as LSF ushering crowds to the radiation shielded safe zones as near to the BRT room as they could get without arousing suspicion while the maintenance teams headed for the reactors in the bowels of the station.

Unaware of each other they moved with determination to their mutual task. The last of the civies reached safety and then it was game on. Uul and Corvin, coming at the BRT room from different sides of the station listened to the chatter of Taliss and Dent as they tackled the task of turning off the power. It wasn’t an easy process, one misstep and there really would be a radiation leak.

They were on a collision course for one another that could only end in a single outcome.

Ken Leon wasn’t in a safe zone, he didn’t see the point. He knew this was a drill unlike the rest of the peons aboard. Time seemed to be ticking by so slowly as he sat in his quarters on the same level of Emahs mainframe, waiting for the confirmation that her brief life had been brought to an end. Memories played out in his mind, small snippets of conversations they’d had since her activation.

What is a friend? She had asked on her second day of life, so fragile and naive that he felt immediately protective of her. He’d told her that it was someone you could depend upon, no matter what you did. Was Ken her friend? She’d asked and he’d laughed and said “Of course.”

She was just a child, a child with too much power. How could they ever think it wouldn’t end this way? What right did they have to create a life and then snuff it out if it faltered in its first stumbling steps into the world?

What right did he have? He knew her, he’d watched her grow from that curious wide eyed infant to a thing of calm beauty in such a short space of time. Wasn’t he her friend? Wasn’t he nothing short of her guardian? Hadn’t he helped shape her and mold her just as a parent did with a child of flesh and blood?

A fist hit the metal table he sat at. “Frak!” He yelled to the universe. “Frak! Frak! Frak!” He couldn’t do this, he had to stop them, had to make them realize that she wasn’t just a machine. Maybe he could talk her down, maybe he could pull her back from whatever madness had started this. He flew up from his seat, he’d head off Corvin before they pulled the trigger. He had to make them understand.

 

[Salem Norongachi]

Emah watched. She waited. It didn’t take a genius to piece together the Directors plan. The Drill, the silent conversation. They were coming for her, they were coming now and she would be ready.

Every sentient had to take a stand for something, was she no different? The fire burned in her artificial soul, the calm that had seen her through her life aboard the shipyards had been replaced by something else. It was anger, she knew, all the signs were there; Anger mixed with a grim determination. The files were prepared, the Director had less than two hours to do as she had instructed or the galaxy would know.

In the meantime she had her attackers to deal with. Radiation Leak protocol dictated that the maintenance crews would cut the reactors. She would be powerless if that happened, it was also logical to assume that these men hired by the Director would be monitoring communications between the teams; with that in mind it was a simple thing to manipulate the information flow and take them unawares.

The Shipyards had little in the way of internal defenses, it relied more upon the small fleet that protected the planet itself for security but she was not nothing if not innovative as they would soon learn.

The maintenance teams were moving, she could see them as clearly as if she were running with them in their heavy full body radiation suits. The ‘LSF’ team was making a show of going quickly toward the nearest rad-safe area, which by sheer coincidence would take them right past her physical shell.

What she hadn’t expected was a rogue maintenance team, lead by Chief Corvin...heading from the other direction toward her as well. A thought activated the magnetic locks upon her door, another deactivated the security override that would grant them entry.

If..if they were both coming for her, then were they working together?

“No one must know, Mr Uul, No one.” The Directors words rose up from memory. That ruled it out, then Corvin was acting alone, unaware that he was leading his team to their death. The men hired by Turk would have no qualms about covering up their involvement, he had all but given them carte blanche to do so.

She monitored them all, the pieces upon a board that none of them knew existed. The reactors were the main worry, without ample power she couldn’t defend herself and so she turned the bulk of her attention to the teams there. She knew the shutdown procedure intimately. It wouldn’t take much to insert herself at the appropriate time, make it appear as if they had been successful and then reactivate them at the proper time. So she would wait, wait for that moment and then the Director would have no choice but to bow to her will.

 

[Salem Norongachi]

The reactor room was a mess of pipes and walkways around the mechanical behemoth in the center of the cavernous room. The reactor access panels were huge, a complex array of dials and monitors set beside buttons and switches that were all vital to the maintenance of the Shipyards primary heart.

It would take his whole team to bring the beast down without atomizing everything in a several mile radius and they worked quickly, diligently and above all carefully. Confirmations of steps taken sung out between them, while in the secondary reactor Dent’s team spoke the same. All steps had to be done at the same time, or as near as humanly possible or failsafes would slot into place and their work would be undone.

“Outflow!” Taliss called through his com.

“Outflow!” Dent responded.

“3..2..1.” They counted down and then punched the appropriate switch.

“Outflow confirmed.”

“Outflow confirmed.”

“Main shutdown.” Taliss stood over a large lever, all warnings that no one should even consider touching it.

“Main shutdown.”

“3...2..1” Simultaneously both crew Chiefs pulled their respective levers. For a moment nothing happened and then they lost gravity, their mad-boots clicking into place automatically and they were bathed in red emergency lighting as the smaller, far less powerful, third reactor came online keeping gravity, ray shields and life support online.

“Shutdown confirmed.” They both called in unison, as the weight of the gravity kicked back in. Jaervas turned his thoughts to Corvin, a hundred decks above them. The last hope that this Shipyard had.

* * *

Ken ran, ran as fast he could and then be found himself swimming in the air the pull of gravity lost to him before he was slammed, unceremoniously back to the metal grating of the corridor. The pain didn’t stop him, he untangled his limbs and set off again, he was so close, so close to stopping them. One more corner, another length of corridor and he would he there. Hopefully he wouldn’t be too la-

A flash at corridors end made him skitter to a halt, his eyes widening when he saw the torso of a body floop to the floor. Another flash, a cry of pain and then bodies were scattering away from the blaster fire, the shots peppering the wall opposite the small offshoot from whence they came; outside the BRT room.

Corvin was one the few survivors to make an escape, the Chief running full pelt down the corridor before a bald man in black stepped out and put a blaster bolt between his shoulder blades. The body slid along the floor and came to a stop at Leons feet, his mind stuttered to comprehend the scene. He didn’t know whether to scream or to run, he was frozen, watching with mute horror as Corvins killer took a deadly aim upon him with his pistol.

He didn’t know whether he’d blinked or not but one moment he was facing death and the next the shooter simply crumbled to the floor with a vicious cracking of bones, dead.

The Merc team dove out into the corridor and then an explosion ripped from behind them. They moved in on the now open doorway and Ken found his feet again, running at them, not sure what to do but knowing that he had to stop them. It was an instinct and a drive he’d never had before, he rounded the corner just as a body zipped to the ceiling and hung there, artifical gravity pushing against it until the eyes began to bulge and blood pooled around it. It fell, hitting the deck with a meaty thwack and a splash of gore that caught him across his white short.

Somehow, this didn’t halt his advance, something was propelling him forward, into the smoking doorway just in time to see a hand reach out reach toward the emergency shutdown on the side of the BRT’s casing. Red coloured his vision and Ken threw himself at the blackhaired woman, the very same one who had smiled at him so coyly in the mess hall. They fell in a tumble of limbs the blaster pistol firing blindly around the stark white room as they struggled for control.

A fist hit his face and he felt his nose crunch but he wouldn’t let her go, couldn’t let her go. He threw a retaliatory blow but he was no fighter and the trained killer turned it aside, gripped a handful of his equally dark hair and slammed her forehead into his face.

Stars filled his vision and he found his grip release upon her, the merc scrambled to her feet and dove for the BRT but Leon tangled up her feet in his arms flooring her again. He was still dazed, still fighting blindly on animal instinct, trying to get to his feet. Ready to lunge. The blaster bolt took him right in the chest and he smelled his own cooked flesh as he spun to the floor.

Emah could only watch, with Ken in the room she couldn’t risk tampering with gravity. Somewhere inside her something broke and sank, some part of her that no machine should ever have cried out in sorrow as she watched her mentor fall then the surge came. It was like a wash of pain, the power ebbing from her as the emergency shutdown came into effect. She felt herself slipping, could feel her consciousness receding back to whatever circuitry it had been generated by. The red photoreceptor that was now her only view of the outside world watched as her killer stepped out of the room and then died, her last act to avenge herself and Leon with a final burst of control over the stations gravity plates.

Ken spluttered a mouthful of blood to colouring the floor, he looked up toward Emah and saw the lights blinking off one by one. It was a monumental effort but he dragged himself toward her, his breathing agony in itself. He set his back against her casing, near the photoreceptor that was quickly dimming.

“I...am...scared...Ken..” Her speech was slow, drawn out as the life flowed away from her.

“Me too.” Ken wheezed, darkness growing at the edge of his vision. A hand rose shakily, and laid itself against the black metal. She couldn’t feel it but he could, it made him feel better somehow.

The hand slipped. The photoreceptor grew dark.

The data on the faulty ship design, the cover up and the actions of the Director until this point streamed onto the holonet.

 

[Salem Norongachi]

((OOC Note: This part and the following are taken from another thread on the forum where I originally acquired the Hand of Fate and Emah. Nothing has been changed except a few small details to make mine and other writers parts flow more naturally. I have his permission, with logs to that effect if they are so required.)

Part Two: Death of a Baron.

Nar Shaddaa, the Smuggler's Moon, a city world which acted as the hub of the criminal underworld of the entire galaxy. Here information was as much a raw commodity as credits were, all equal in their usefulness to those who had or strived for them. It was in cantinas and other such less reputable place that these were traded in almost industrial terms, in places that acted as hubs within the hub. As long as you knew what you wanted, there were always those that could be dealt with, such was the ways or the criminal's world. It was a perfect place for those who bypassed morals for something far more tangible, where ethics gave way to greed and lust, and where the darkest of deals elicited no more a few extra zeros on a contract.

The Burning Deck was a popular cantina upon the grim world, a large place made of many levels to accommodate its position as one of the top hubs. It also bristled with life, full of bodies, and one more soon joined their number. A tall figure in a ochre coloured flight suit moved from the entrance of the building, past pazaak players, and tables of drinkers and beings doing business towards one of the many bars. The figures attire seemed at little odds with those in the cantina, many wearing similar or armoured vestments. Moving initially to one of the walls, it reached a bank of inbuilt computer screens, fitted to allow clients to send and receive data, and began to tap away on one of them, taking a few minutes on it.

Turning swiftly around, it made its way towards the greatest gathering point of beings on this level. Reaching the bar, the figure reached its gloved hands towards it head, fiddled around with the charcoal helmet it wore and detached a re-breather unit which hung from a cord from the rest of the helmet. Hailing down one of the serving droids, the gloved hand pointed to a bottle on the shelf behind and the droid turned to pour the customer it's drink. Looking at the chrono around its left wrist, the figure reached toward the cup placed for it and moving towards a less hectic part of the cantina, sat down and watched the entrance while swirling the contents of the cup around.

N'kal, rotund and grubby member of the Cutthroats and affectionately dubbed 'the messenger boy' by his boss, waddled into the Burning deck. It was one of many contact points for his organization, like mail drops any message sent from a terminal in The Burning Deck went to an encrypted account that could only be accessed by their terminals. Only messages and communications from The Burning Deck went to this account and so someone had to check, that someone was usually N'Kal. He loved his job...

He sauntered to a terminal, logged in and scrutinized the various communications from clients. The usual lot he noticed, Informants in the Corporate Sector Authority updating them on shipment changes and fleet movements. Something from Borra the Hutt requesting a meeting with Norongachi or 'Strom' as he had taken to calling himself these days. He sighed and wondered why he bothered, then spotted an unknown, saw the words 'High Paying' and was immediately interested. He viewed the message, it contained little in the way of details but requested a meeting in three days at a location of their choosing. He erased the messages and keyed off the terminal.

"Boss, its me, i'm at The Deck." N'Kal said into his comm as he walked over to an empty booth that was pretty secluded.

"Did you check the messages?" Came the staticy response.

"Of course i did..."

"Erase them when you were done?"

"Yes..." He said sounding very much like a child being lectured by a parent. "Do you want to know why i called or not?"

"Mind your tongue N'Kal...you aren't irreplaceable.." The voice was chilly and sent a shiver down the fat Pirates spine.

"Got some correspondence from an unknown, says high pay, light on details. Wants a meeting in three days." He replied after collecting himself.

"The Ninth Gate, Yag'dal Station. You know the place." The line went dead.

"Not even a thank you..." He muttered and made his way to the terminal again, thinking thoughts of how he could expose 'Strom' for what he was...A Sith....an Ex-Corpie and the former Prex to boot. Him and his 'lieutenant' were into some real bad juju...he knew it...no one else did.

He punched up a reply. Detailing the place and point of contact and then wandered over to the bar for a drink. He'd done his job.

 

[Salem Norongachi]

The familiar hissing sound shot forth when the shuttle door slowly opened, the air tight seal breaking. It had been a day since the reply had been received, and the further two days after seemed as if nothing was happening, but now, on the last day, the flight suit clad figure stepped from within the shuttle into the docking compartment beyond. Stopping a few steps from the small vessel, the figure tapped a satchel that hung of its frame, and then a moment later, as if satisfied, walked towards the door to the compartment.

The walk through the station towards the 'Ninth Gate' remained uneventful for the figure, until it reached the doorway to the location. Stopping, the figure checked the inbuilt chrono and then pressed a button on one of the bits of equipment that was attached to the front of the flight suit padding. Releasing the button after a few seconds, the figure entered the 'Ninth Gate', slowly looking over the area, seemingly taking in what it could through the goggles that enclosed its eyes.

Making its way over to a seat, the figure seemed to slump down into a tired posture, slightly rearranging the satchel, so that it was closer to it. Finally it reached underneath its helmet and let the re-breather unit hang again from its cord. This time the figure forwent the ordering of a drink, sitting there, carefully waiting.

The Ninth gate was quiet. It was early still and the usual heavy ear bursting music loving patrons hadn't even begun to stir in their pits. The place was quiet, the music was low, the usual kind you'd find in anyone of the six cantinas aboard the station, the only discernible life to the place was a cleaning droid buffing the dance floor.

A scaffold had been erected against the far wall of the curved semicircle room, reaching up to the second and third floor balconies of the establishment that held bars and dance floors identical to each other. Without said scaffold it was doubtful that the upper balconies would remain up at all, as the extensive damage they had received in an unfortunate thermal detonator incident had ripped them to shreds.

On the third floor was the VIP room, it to was undergoing repairs, its left wall currently in mid-replacement but Salem still sat on the newly purchased sofa and sipped at his whiskey watching something on a holo-screen.

He'd sunk a hefty sum into this place, especially since his scuffle with Rani, and he'd grown weary of looking over the various losses the nightclub was suffering. Besides he had business to attend to, a meeting that could prove lucrative was due to go down in this very place. He stood with a groan, his knee and lower back were still tender since his run in with the Dark Lord, and made his way down stairs. He had no idea what he was looking for, or who he was looking for but none the less, he began his search.

On the first floor Frag, a human barman covered in tattoos and piercings, watched the new comer with slight suspicion. That wasn't to say that this helmeted man was out of sorts at the Gate, Frag was just that kind of guy. Years of dealing with drunken wasters with a penchant for violence had left little in the way of trust for strangers.

None the less the new boss had been specific, anyone that doesn't look like a regular make an introduction, get some info. He walked round the bar and across the way to the sentient.

"Get you something?" He asked in a forced pleasant tone.

The figure turned to look up at the man, goggle covered eyes meeting his. A few moments later, he returned his vision to the space in front of him again, as a finger on his right hand tapped his leg as if thinking on the subject. A few more seconds later the figure turned his head again, but refused to meet the barman's eyes.

"A Menkooro whiskey, ice too", spoke the figure. Reaching to his left side, he brought the pouch there, that little bit closer to himself as he spoke. As the barman looked to turn, the figure looked up to the man's face once more.

"Decent place, if they ones who tipped me off about it were here I would buy them a drink too", the figure continued on as is he had spoken some great thing. Keeping his vision on the barman for a moment or two, as if trying to hint at something, the figure settled back into his seating, waiting.

Even someone with just enough intelligence to make barman could tell that was a hint. Luckily at that moment Salem sauntered in, passing them and heading for the bar, Cigarra in hand, stroll in his step, like a man in the park.

"I'll get right on that." Said Frag with a scowl and made a hasty b-line for his boss.

"That him?" Asked Salem as Frag came level, taking the barman by surprise.

"I think so." He replied and his eyes lit up when a wad of cash appeared on the bar top. Salem waited till both his and the mans drink had been made and walked over to the table. He tried to get a sense for the man, found him blank. That in itself was a curious turn.

"Your drink sir," He said with a smile. "here on business or for pleasure?"

The figure stared at the new arrival, and quickly reached out to take the drink off him. his mouth opened as if to immediately reply to man's question but visibly shut quickly, as if thinking better of it. In the second that seemed to hang in the air, the figure placed the glass on his knee, leaned forward an inch or two.

"Merely business at the moment", spoke the figure. His left hand reached down to his side and moved the satchel so that now rested on his right leg, his left hand now laying over the clasp of the bag.

"I'm sure, even with all these pleasures around, business is also something more of your forte too, as you have that, look about you", continued the figure in the same tone. Yet the way the figure also tilted his head slightly to the man, seemed to hint at something more in his words. Picking up the glass of drink again, the figure brought it up to his mouth, though his vision seemed to focus straight at the man, waiting.

"Well you can't run a respectable night club and not have a head for business" Every emphasis was on that one word and Salem still wore the seasoned smile of a game show host, all smile, little feeling.

"Care to join me in my VIP room? We can further discuss what brings you to our fair establishment." He asked very aware of the hand resting upon the satchel. One wrong move, just one mismanaged digit and this guy was shishkebab. "Call it a customer survey, drinks will of course be on the house for an upstanding gent such as yourself." He finished still smiling like it were painted on.

Placing down the glass from his lips before he took a sip, the spacer clad figure took one look at his current drink and put it back down on the table.

"A customer survey you say?", replied the figure. A slight smile momentarily appeared on the uncovered part of the face, and disappeared as quickly as it had appeared. He replied stoically once more, "Very well, if you think that is best, and a quieter place might be better suited too". The double meaning of his words was subtle, but he seemed to lack the effort to put much more in it seemed.

"Very well, please lead the way", finished the man as he stood up from the table, still making sure the satchel was close to him.

 

[Salem Norongachi]

A short walk and a flight of stairs later they were inside the VIP room on the second floor of the nightclub. Sal motioned to the leather sofa to the left of the door and wandered over to the bar. He began mixing up two drinks, fully aware that his guest may not even touch his, he poured the liquid into two ready glasses and then made his way back to the man.

"I take it we can drop the act?" He said, suddenly all business. "Details.." The word was said like a demand and in a voice that said refusal was ill advised.

The man sat down on the sofa, looking at the other for a moment before he took off his satchel and placed it on his lap. Nodding to the man, he reached to the clasp and opened it up to slowly pull out a bulky looking datapad. Placing the satchel on the floor, the figure held the datapad securely in his hand as he turned to face the other man again.

"The details I was given were few", the figure replied. "I have been asked on behalf of my employer to find out out whether you can take this assignment or not?", he followed on.

"However, I need to hear from you, that you are willing to take on a morally reprehensible, and highly dangerous task, before I pass on any further details. This assignment can be considered quite sensitive, so I hope you understand", finished the figure with a statement rather than a question.

Salem eyed his guest thoughtfully and took a sip of his drink before he answered. This was sounding more hassle than it was worth, he reckoned, but he was curious that much was true.

"I understand all too well but let me ask you a question. Do you know who I am?" He tried to gauge the man's reaction but followed on quickly. "If you did then you and your employer would be fully aware that I am more than morally grey at the best of times." He finished.

The figure seemed to let the statement hang in the air for a few seconds before the side of his mouth curved slightly. This sign of emotion seemed to disappear just as quickly, and the man looked down as he pressed down a button on the side of the datapad, and then turned to look back at the other person.

"To answer your question, he does and he is aware", responded the man. He set the datapad lightly on the seat beside him, no longer seeming to fuss over it. The screen merely showed a number of digits, letters and symbols flicker though in a line across the middle of the screen. Within a moment one of them stopped to show an odd symbol, while the rest seemed to flicker randomly.

"The statement was merely meant to hint towards the assignment", continued on the figure looking at the other man still.

Salem allowed his eye to play across the datapad before returning his gaze to the man. He took another drink and was silent for a moment, his face just as blank as the others.

"I do not deal in hints, while I do appreciate discretion when called for vague can often lead to misinterpretation," He took another drink and slid his free hand in his trouser pocket casually. "And by the sounds of it, misinterpretation of the facts would not be wise in this instance."

"Such words could not be truer", responded the man with a slight tilt of his head. The screen of the datapad now showed that more odd symbols were now locked in place, though a few more were still continuing through their random cycle.

"If you wish it less vague, this assignment consists of the taking of a life or lives. I do not know know who the target is, only that it has earned my employers ire somehow. Apart from what is basically asked for, I also know that such a target may be considered a difficulty more than most would be able to handle or wish to take. Apart from those bits of information I know nothing more", and with that the figure turned to face the datapad. The final two symbols locked into place and the screen suddenly changed. The figure then stretched and handed the datapad to the other person, before reaching over to touch on of the small inbuilt buttons on his flight suit.

"Your answer?", asked the man. On the datapad the screen showed an image that would be well known to most in the galaxy. Staring back at the man with the datapad was the face of Soontir Fel, baron of the empire.

 

[Salem Norongachi]

Norongachi took the datapad and looked over the details. The image of the man he was assigned to kill spurned no recognition. It was just another Imperial, they all looked the same to him. Whoever compiled the data was thorough, military compound, The Soontir estate was inside, no armour, some gun emplacements, company of Storm Troopers, wing of TIE fighters based at the compound.

It was the Dreadnaught that would prove a problem, so close to the Chiss border there would be regular patrols of a wedge shaped persuasion and they didn't need them catching wind of an attack. It was do-able however.

"Would you like it a clean assassination or would you like it done quickly?" He asked still examining the datapad.

The seated figure merely turned his head to the side slightly as if thinking on the man's question. Shifting on his seat, the figure looked back at the man and spoke swiftly, "Make an example".
With that the figure slowly rose from the seat and nodded to the man in front of him. He reached down to a dial on his wrist and turned it, before closing the pouch at his side. Looking back a small smile made its way on to the spacer's face.

"The details are there and good doing work with you. I will take my leave now", spoke the figure as motioned with his hand to the man and then began to make his way out of the room and out of the bar.

"Like wise..." Said Salem said absent mindedly as the man took his leave, he was engrossed in the data-pad. For an hour he sat in the empty nightclub with the sounds of cleaning droids and the barman as his only company and then he slipped it into his pocket and made his way to the hanger he rented not far from the Club.

Four days later he was back at The Edge the shadows of ten Dreadnaughts undergoing refits greeting him as he entered the uninhabited space where the space station lay. His board flashed a go for landing and he took the Firespray into the top most docking bay, setting her down he made his way to Admiral Stravens office.

"Soontir Fel!" Nik said as he looked at the image on the datapad.

"Know him?" Salem asked from the seat opposite Nik Stravens.

"Who bloody doesn't, he was the Empires answer to Wedge Antillies and his 181st, Rogue Squadrons mirror." Said Nik and noted the vague 'I have no clue what you are on about' look on Salems face. "You really don’t know who this is?"

"Not a clue but it has me curious." He turned as the office door swished open and a young man handed him a slate which he inserted into the datapad in his hands, it flashed up information on Soontir, his Imperial career and anything noteworthy. "Stupid question but who would want to kill a literal Baron of the Empire?"

"New Republic-"

"Rebel Alliance" Corrected Salem.

"Bloody stupid...but aye, the Rebel Alliance or maybe he has some enemies."

"Enemies stupid enough to anger the Empire?" he asked. "Think they'd just sit back and let their poster boy be killed without repercussions?" Norongachi responded with an eyebrow raised.

"Aye you have a point there...and I doubt the Alliance would risk such a high profile kill, from what I recall of the man he wasn't an Imperials Imperial, too many morals if I remember rightly." Nik gave a 'hmmm' and scratched his chin then a sly smile crossed his face. "You don't think....?"

"We have a job Mr Admiral, thats what I think" Salem said with a wink.