Chapter 6: My Droid Will Go On

Obligation: 82 (No Trigger)

Destiny Pool:

The Cheery Butler has a package to deliver to to Dr. Coh’loe aboard Paradise Village luxury cruiser. The date, time and co-ordinates of the delivery are very specific. It would appear the ship in in constant motion and difficult to pin down.

The package appears to be the same as all the others. Thin metal box with geometric designs etched into it. It comes with Level-3 security clearance for Paradise Village.

You land on the ship without incident and make your way through the reception zone, stopping to show your clearance at frequent check-points. (Gosh, this ship has a lot of security.)

You're expecting to see faux tropical plants, scantily-clad servers and a carnival theme, akin to Zeltros' infamous party cruises, but everything is a lot more muted than expected. The spaces are still posh, but small and more private. Instead of relaxed merriment, there's a feeling of watching and waiting.

You're escorted past 2 more security check-points before being deposited in a waiting room. The carpet is blue and plush. The chairs are metal. There's a picture of flower on the wall.

This place is a little weird.

Some posh looking visitors are deposited in the room not long after you. Then another 2, all looking well-to-do and smug, but not cold. After a minute or so, they're retrieved shortly before another 3 are dropped off in the lounge. This flow of traffic is seemingly pretty steady.

Barrett's survey of the room shows no sign of surveillance equipment in operation. That being the case, the staff members who are making frequent stops in the room have very alert (but friendly) eyes. They are not relaxed.

While looking at a nearby pedestal, Barrett brushes against a trigger switch that pops up a holographic map of the ship with a big “You Are Here” beacon.

Your current location appears to be only a couple levels below deck. For being a luxury cruiser, the map is surprisingly uninformative, seeming to be in place mainly to show passages of egress in case of an emergency.

The areas behind you are illuminated, and there are a couple passages ahead of you illuminated. Areas of note include Landing Deck, Admin, Recreation, Delivery and Restaurant. The remainder of the map is dark and unlabelled.

The Reception area is behind you, of course. It's connected to the Landing Dock and is the only port of entry on the front/top end of the ship. As you look at it on the map, you fondly recall the ornate fountain, the curved stairs and the polished desks. Very classy.

The Delivery dock area is on the exact opposite end of the ship, beyond the darkened areas, on the bottom/backend of the ship. There are several large loading bays where ships can land to unload. Suppose it would be possible to load from them as well. The space between your current location and the Delivery area is inscrutable.

The “Recreation Area” on the map is under glass. You see some structures, lots of open space, and a viewing deck. There is even an area that might be a pool.

As T1-NY's lens is inspecting the box, a throat clears behind him and they turn to see a human with a clipboard wearing a white lab coat. “You said you had a package for Dr. Coh'loe” he says with friendly, but watchful eyes. “Follow me, please.”

The human lab worker takes the duo deeper into the ship, down more partially lit hallways with a classy atmosphere. This time around you notice more people. Mainly humans. They're sitting at tables in little circular lounges branching off the hallway. You can't get a good look into the spaces as you briskly walk past them but you get a glimpse of stages and scantily clad men and women of various races on display upon those stages. They all stand somewhat erect, with happy, bemused expressions on their faces. The folks at the tables are regarding them, talking amongst themselves and making hand gestures to the staffer beside the stage. Barrett catches a glimpse of one of the faces, and recognizes it, but can't place it at the moment.

You pass about 10 of these lounges, then the lab worker scans his pass card and the next hallway is stark white. Past a reception desk, down an elevator, past some doors and into an office marked “Dr.Coe'loh”.

“The doctor will be with you in just a moment,” he says before turning to leave. The lab worker then exits the room, and sits at his desk just outside, still within eyeshot of the open door, and busies himself at his terminal.

Barrett surveys the room while waiting. He notices several diplomas on the wall and takes a moment to scrutinize them. They seem to be legit enough. The issuing city jumps out at him and connects with the face he saw earlier. Dr. Coe'loh graduated from Glastro on Bimmisaari. That is exactly where he had met the man down the hallway. He's a business associate of Jodra Bremmel whom Barrett had tried to work a sideways deal with. Flashes from that encounter flood before his eyes.

---

A few minutes pass before Dr.Coe'Loh enters. He's a human in his late 50s. His lab coat is stained, and his glasses are large. He's pre-occupied with a chart and is muttering to himself, his brow furrowed. He sits like this at his desk a full minute before he looks up and notices you. He then returns his gaze to his charts. “What do you want,” he asks bluntly, squinting his beady eyes at the data before him.

T1-NY takes the box out of his cavity and Barrett mentions they have a deliver he needs to sign for. A few moments pass before his words reach Coe'Loh's attention. He slowly peers up at the droid and his box he shaking at him. He slowly puts the datapad down on the desk and slowly gets up from his seat. All the while maintaining eye contact with the metallic box.

Coe'Loh swallows hard, trying to re-hydrate his mouth. “Yes… A package… I see…” He slowly begins to sidle away from the desk and towards the door. “Of course… I'll sign for it… I just need… to get… my pen.” He gently pushes the button that slides his office door open, then slips through it. As he leaves, you hear his measured steps pick up in speed, before they turn harried and fade away completely.

The lab worker outside the door watches the doctor's hasty retreat, then turns back to you and shrugs before the door slides shut again.

Meanwhile, Barrett notices the open datapad that Coe'loh left behind. The chart he was examining is still open () and is written in Basic (). There's a lot of medical jargon, abbreviations, and numbers involved. Barrett gleans that it's the results from a large sample of experiments, but the meaning is unclear.

He backs out of the file into it's parent directory. It's filled with daily lab results just like this one, sorted by date, that stretches back months.

An instant message begins to scroll across the bottom of the screen.

Coe, we've confirmed a demonstration with the Hutt brokers for the end of the month. Version 3 of the augmentation needs to be successful by then. I'm transferring an extra shipment of resources to you. Get me the results I need.

Barrett ponders the meaning of this for a moment. Then a “live feed” button lights up. the zeltron steels himself and then presses it.

A window pops up, displaying a woman in a lab coat, speaking into a camera. She's reporting for archival purposes, with more of the lingo used in the chart. Behind her is a twi'lek calmly strapped in a chair, a stitched scar running smoothly over her head. Barrett watches as the twi'lek is put through various amount of physical pain, a bemused smile still on her face. When her finger is broken backwards, the smile slowly slides from her face. Next, when her arm is broken, she is still for a moment, then slowly starts to scream out in pain, which builds and builds to a crescendo, until the woman in the lab coat makes a gesture, and her assistant injects the twi'lek with a syringe, and she passes out.

The woman looks back into the camera. “Happy Slave Augmentation 3.278G is a failure.” The twi'lek is dragged out of the room and a bemused rodian is brought in. “Our next resource has an increased injection of…”

Barrett looks away from the screen as T1-NY lets out of happy beep. His graspers slowly pull the metal box apart () and an invisible pressurized spray is released, filling the room ( ) .

The door slides open and Barrett leaps from the room, breathing heavily. Did he escape in time? He does a quick mental survey of his body's systems. Everything seems ok. Yeah, he's ok, right? Probably. He's probably fine. He begins to relax and lowers the jacket from his face.

The lab tech at the desk looks at him bewildered.

T1-NY's initial scan comes back clean, but as an astromech, what does he know, really?

The lab tech arches an eyebrow, shrinks back in his chair and points down the hallway that he had led you down.

As Barrett makes his way down the hall, two armed security officers stands in his path. “Excuse me sir, but you and your droid need to come with me.” They gesture to a side hallway.

“You'll never get away with this,” Wilbur lamely protests in his wavering tenor voice, “whatever this is you're trying to get away with.”

“Just keep moving,” Barrett growls, poking the gun into Wilbur's ribs. The two guards are in front, followed by the Zeltron and droid, heading down the posh halls with the audience alcoves. Heads turn as they nervously proceed. One older gentleman in particular does a double take as they pass by. Barrett tries to keep cool, being discrete with the blaster, but he's struggling to keep it together. Every step is a struggle to keep from running.

The procession reaches another security door. Wilbur steps forward to swipe his card, but the light on the reader flashes red and beeps. The guard tries again to no avail. A drip of sweat rolls down Barrett's forehead. “What's going on,” Barrett attempts to menace, but the panic is starting to bleed through in his voice.

“It's like Wilbur told you,” the other guard began smugly, “you'll never get away with this, whatever this is that you're trying to get away with.”

Suddenly the sounds of bootfalls fill the hallway, followed promptly by the hum of cocked blasters. “You two! Turn around slowly! You're under arrest!” Barrett and T1-NY do as they are told and see ten more guards facing them, blasters trained on them. “Put the blaster down on the ground,” the unit with a red star on her chest shouts. Barrett's hand tenses on the handle of the gun, desperate plans flit through his mind faster than he can process. His heart was races and it seems like every inch of him is covered in sweat.

He is about to throw the dice in his brain once more when he hears a tiny whine from beside him. He looks over at T1-NY and almost doesn't recognise the droid. His lights slowly throb a dull blue and his lens looks downward. It's almost as if he is trying to convey concern for him.

Barrett snaps to his senses. This isn't his game - he's not his sister. She'd take them all down without breaking a sweat. He bends to the ground and drops the blaster, kicking it to the red starred figured.

“Good. Now come with us,” she barks.

“Excuse me. Is there a problem here?” The voice comes from behind the wall of troops. They part and an older man writing on a datapad walks past them, an attendant from Paradise Village following closely behind. Barrett stiffens visibly. “What are you doing with my son and his droid?”

The lead guard does a double take and stammers. “Excuse me, your son?”

“Excuse you! Yes, this is my son. Is there a problem with that?” mild irritation and indignation mixed with condescension are obvious.

The guard consults her datapad. “Dr.Coh'loe said these two were dangerous fugitives and needed to be apprehended immediately.”

The man's face relaxes immediately. “Oh, Dr. Coh'loe, you rascal! I'm sorry, officer, I'm afraid you're the butt of a rather lame practical joke. He's an old university chum, and he's always trying to pull a fast one on us whenever we're on board. This time, I guess he targeted my son and his robot. Go ahead and check the visitor's log. You'll see that I'm here on a regular basis.” The man signs the datapad he was holding and hands it back to the attendant beside him.

“I'll bring my ship around back in a couple minutes. See to it that the entire lot of them are ready to be loaded on. Oh, and you'll note that there's a little something extra in the transfer for you; a thank you from my boss for your excellent service,” he says with a wink. “Come along, Jimmy. Bring your robot and let's go home.”

“But, he pulled a gun on me,” Wilbur protests, stepping forward.

The man looks at Barrett and shakes his head. “Oh, that is naughty. Just wait until your mother hears about this. I'm sorry for any trouble my son has caused. Believe me, his mother will make sure that he is suitably punished.” He looks back at the attendant. “Are we good?”

The attendant looks from the man, to Wilbur, to the red star guard, down at the datapad, back to the man, then back to the datapad. “Oh. Oh my. Yes, of course Mr. Lars, we are VERY good. Well, get out of his way! He has a large shipment to pick-up. Come on now. Make way for Mr. Lars and his son. Move.” The attendant makes his way through the throng and swipes his card to open the door.

“Thank you, Geeves,” Lars gushes as he steps toward Barrett, turns him around, and walks forward with him, his strong arm wrapped fatherly around his shoulders. “Oh yes, mother will want to have words with you!”

T1-NY stands still, unable to process a response quickly enough. He watches Barrett and the man begin to walk through the door.

“Uh, sir, what about your droid,” the attendant calls out after them.

“Whoops. Better bolt him,” Lars responds.

“FRAK!!” T1-NY's dome spins just fast enough to see a nearby guard place the bolt on top of him.

On the databank floor, T1-NY whirs around. The invading code has already breached the wall and starts to pour in. “FRAK!!” He speeds to a nearby console. He is NOT going to be bolted. Never again. He begins counter programming to stop the flood of programming being issued from the bolt.

“Is there a problem?” Intruder asks from his cubicle.

A thought sparks across his processes and T1-NY knows immediately he will regret it. “Chrome-dome! Take the wheel while I fight off this invasion. And spare any processes you can to help out.”

Invader perks up visibly. “I hear and obey!” he gleefully beeps at T1-NY.

“I hear and obey” T1-NY beeps at the guard.

“All right then. Off you go. Follow your master.”

“I hear and obey, oh exalted human one!” T1-NY responds, and he wheels off after Barrett and Lars.

The three of them proceed down the halls, through reception and out onto the landing dock. “Jorda will be very happy to hear about your imminent return. She was so disappointed that your last transaction went uncompleted.” Lars continued, his death grip still firmly in place on Barrett's shoulder.

“Excuse me, but do you have the time?” Lars stops at the sound of the woman's voice and turns around. He is immediately greeted by shock gloves to the chest, zapping Lars and Barrett together for a moment before he's thrown clear.

They both fall to the ground.

“Come on. The Butler is already in deep space. We got to go.” She hurriedly helps him to his feet.

“But how did you get here?” Barrett still doesn't trust his eyes. Or his brain for that matter.

“They gave me a ride,” she says, indicating the small ship directly ahead of them. A familiar looking Falleen and a Zabrak with a broken nose wait for them. “Come on. Let's get out of here.”