LinusFunkUncle
New Member
Brium was having trouble getting his drink down in the colorful and stinking Coruscant bar, and it wasn't for the usual reasons. It wasn't the inadequately-chilled room-temperature visquil essence floating in his glass, which had congealed into a thick gelatinous goo. It wasn't the bartender keeping his eye on the door like something bad could happen at any moment. Stars, it wasn't even the smoggy low-altitude air that you can hardly catch your breath in. Brium didn't like Coruscant. Being so close to politics in the dirty money racket makes you feel itchy. Like a Jedi could bust in the door at any moment, lightsaber drawn, and you're upside down staring at all the stuff in your pockets hitting the floor. Brium gulped.
Too bad that's exactly what Brium was waiting for. Every impulse and basic instinct told him it was a bad idea. If he had any sense, to fake his death and hang out in the Outer Rim for the next thirty years. But him and his big mouth. Messing around with the wrong guys. Being in the wrong places. Piling up debts with bosses. Brium was in so much trouble, he wasn't even pleading to the usual higher-ups anymore. Even they couldn't bail him out of this one.
This was something different. No dunk in Carbonite and deliver. An outstanding credit loan. He wished it was that innocent. At this point, Brium would pay it himself. But he owed big, and someone skilled and dumb enough would be needed for this.
"I am sensing palpable fear, sir." 8UK-3T droned. "Perhaps there is time to abandon the mission."
Brium sucked down his terrible refreshment, and patted his droid's shoulder, peeking around the bar inconspicously.
"Did you 'sense' that by my face, or what?" Brium asked, killing time nervously.
"I indicated the emotion from a combination of factors, your heartbeat, and yes, your face. Specifically, mild sweat. Considering you were not engaged in dialogue with anyone at the moment of said emotion, your elevated heartbeat could not be due to lying or arousal. And considering the climate inside this establishment are ample conditions for the human body, your sweat could not be due to heat exhaustion. Therefore I deduce that your current symptoms are common effects of fear, the source of which being the details of this mission that we are currently on, sir."
"Yay, we solved the case." Brium muttered sarcastically.
" 'We' did not do anything, sir. I just explained my calculations, while you sat there sweating. In fact, I have also calculated that there are exactly eighty-seven people in this room right now-"
"Bucket." Brium groaned, flashing credits for another drink at the table. "You're doing that thing again."
"Oh! Yes, sir. I apologize. 'Analytical is great, Bucket, but it doesn't have to be all the time.' I sense you are still tense about waking you up to explain womp rats mating behavior. I know it's in my programming, but I simply forget you ever have to sleep. I love to learn new things, because then I have so much to tell you!"
Brium grimaced, turning it into a weary smile at his only companion.
"There, there, sir. It is not scientifically impossible to best a Jedi without a lightsaber or Jedi training, as unlikely as it is. This tactic has the smallest margin of error out of all of our scenarios that we ran."
"Okay, buddy. Right." He said to himself, reassuringly. He sighed, finishing his last round before last call. Any second now, a Jedi would respond to the call made for help, and meet the mysterious stranger in need of aid at the cantina. They just can't help themselves. Any second now, a Jedi would walk through that door. And Brium would have to make a choice.
Too bad that's exactly what Brium was waiting for. Every impulse and basic instinct told him it was a bad idea. If he had any sense, to fake his death and hang out in the Outer Rim for the next thirty years. But him and his big mouth. Messing around with the wrong guys. Being in the wrong places. Piling up debts with bosses. Brium was in so much trouble, he wasn't even pleading to the usual higher-ups anymore. Even they couldn't bail him out of this one.
This was something different. No dunk in Carbonite and deliver. An outstanding credit loan. He wished it was that innocent. At this point, Brium would pay it himself. But he owed big, and someone skilled and dumb enough would be needed for this.
"I am sensing palpable fear, sir." 8UK-3T droned. "Perhaps there is time to abandon the mission."
Brium sucked down his terrible refreshment, and patted his droid's shoulder, peeking around the bar inconspicously.
"Did you 'sense' that by my face, or what?" Brium asked, killing time nervously.
"I indicated the emotion from a combination of factors, your heartbeat, and yes, your face. Specifically, mild sweat. Considering you were not engaged in dialogue with anyone at the moment of said emotion, your elevated heartbeat could not be due to lying or arousal. And considering the climate inside this establishment are ample conditions for the human body, your sweat could not be due to heat exhaustion. Therefore I deduce that your current symptoms are common effects of fear, the source of which being the details of this mission that we are currently on, sir."
"Yay, we solved the case." Brium muttered sarcastically.
" 'We' did not do anything, sir. I just explained my calculations, while you sat there sweating. In fact, I have also calculated that there are exactly eighty-seven people in this room right now-"
"Bucket." Brium groaned, flashing credits for another drink at the table. "You're doing that thing again."
"Oh! Yes, sir. I apologize. 'Analytical is great, Bucket, but it doesn't have to be all the time.' I sense you are still tense about waking you up to explain womp rats mating behavior. I know it's in my programming, but I simply forget you ever have to sleep. I love to learn new things, because then I have so much to tell you!"
Brium grimaced, turning it into a weary smile at his only companion.
"There, there, sir. It is not scientifically impossible to best a Jedi without a lightsaber or Jedi training, as unlikely as it is. This tactic has the smallest margin of error out of all of our scenarios that we ran."
"Okay, buddy. Right." He said to himself, reassuringly. He sighed, finishing his last round before last call. Any second now, a Jedi would respond to the call made for help, and meet the mysterious stranger in need of aid at the cantina. They just can't help themselves. Any second now, a Jedi would walk through that door. And Brium would have to make a choice.
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