A Bachelors Tomb [FOSB]

[Ignatius Rausgeber]

Ignatius Rausgeber looked glum as he slowly strode through the luxury apartment complex. While he carried himself with dignity, his soul ached. Although it had not been made public yet, the death of his dearest uncle had been disclosed to the Rausgeber clan, who privately mourned the loss of their most successful sun. For Ignatius, as a man whose own father was fixated upon his career, hearing of his uncles death had shattered him.

However, when the order was dispatched by Central Command for a search of the now dead Fleet Admiral's apartment to ascertain and secure any valuable documents, the younger man agreed. He saw it personally as apart of a debt he owed the older man. Leading the small party of plains clothes FOSB officers, he took point. "It's just down this hall." Ignatius roboticly informed them, as he pressed ahead. The apartment was lavish by Avalonian standards. Brass door knobs adorned every door, with platinum keycard recievers, along with a lovely velvet carpet.

Several people opened their doors, watching the procession march through, before closing them. It was not exactly an inconspicuous event, despite the clothing. As they arrived at the apartment, Ignatius took the lead. He had the sole keycard to the apartment, asides from the man in question. Carefully using it, and then keying in the PIN, Ignatius opened the door, and ushered the party in. The apartment sat in complete darkness, which one of the party remedied, by turning on the lights.

He locked the door behind them, and his eyes crossed over the contingent of agents, and the apartment. It was a mess to say the least. Wires were strewn around, along with tomes of books. Carlyle Rausgeber's accolades and former rank insignia's sat, framed along walls. His coffee table was a real mess, with a small computer, lying on top of a pile of holograph projectors and data disks of enormous size. "Well," Ignatius began glumly, "Let's begin then..."

[member="The Major"]

 

[The Major]

She couldn't make heads or tails of this. What had the fleet admiral been planing with this latest stunt? Assembling a team of agents to be guided by his nephew to review the recently departed First Order hero apartment was the strangest of things, and this was the FOSB we were talking about. Their usual activities were, at best, suspect and inky in nature. Wouldn't a discreet team of lawyers and kin be more suitable on a mission such as this?

The Major supposed that a career as important as Fleet Admiral Rausgeber afforded some quirks.​

Regardless of the orders to appear in plain clothes, she still couldn't resist but to wear a double breasted black suit and matching tie -along with a white silk blouse. It did wonders for her tall figure, and was appropriate for mourning. And mourn the Major did; though this was at best in a more out of token of respect than actual regret. Sybil had once rubbed elbows with the great Fleet Admiral, and it did not go well. Not even a bit. She chalked it up to his legendary, cold wit. Crossing the threshold now provided a glimpse into the man's inner workings. Of note in Sybil's mind were the array of messy wires all over the place. Momentarily distracted by Ignatius' devilishly handsome face, the Major advanced deeper into the apartment while toying with the datapad that was powering up in her pocket.

"Will you be comfortable with us persuing your dear uncle's personal things during our search?"

[member="Ignatius Rausgeber"]

 

[Armand Temi]

After the Kulthis assignment, Ezra spent his free time on Dossun studying zama-shiwo, a deadly, but self-soothing martial art from the moon of Jedha and chanting lost mountain mantras of the Bardottan monks, and while this was not normal behavior for him, it did make him feel more at ease to think that if a Stenax warlord showed up in the hallway of his two bedroom apartment, he would be able to deal with the terrifying winged creature through either violence or calm diplomacy, until he was able to stun, shoot or otherwise dispose of him. In any case, none of the bird demons came a’ calling.

After finishing a spartan meal of mounder potato rice, he received the call from FOSB headquarters. He was to go to a tony enclave in Avalonia, specifically a luxury apartment of one of the top naval officers, deceased now due to a star destroyer accident, though sabotage rumors swirled around that particular anecdote. The reason for the visit, he did not know.

Still, Ezra was keen on meeting [member="The Major"], one of his fellow agents, assigned to Kulthis, but on a different operation. Frankly Ezra worked better alone, but that didn't mean he was not up for the occasional fraternization.

While Sybil found the entire mission strange, the stimcaf guzzling spy enjoyed non-conventional outings like this. Witnessing how men of power lived would always yield the type of information he would be able to use, either in subterfuge, blackmail or even as part of a disguise.

“Staff Officer Klev, in charge of Interrogations. Don’t worry Agent Rausgeber, I’m not here to inject you with truth serum.” Not yet at least. “Agent… Major, I presume?” Dressed in a black suit that seemed more expensive for a lower-level officer, he stuck out his hand to offer both of them a hearty handshake. "My deepest condolences."

[member="Ignatius Rausgeber"]

 

[Ignatius Rausgeber]

Ignatius nodded his head curtly at the one they referred to as the Major, "Of course." He drily replied. He did not mean to come off as arrogant, or irritated. But in an emotionally terse time such as this, the young diplomat found the niceties learned had eroded. "We cannot let emotion contravene duty." Rather than embroil the other agents in the mundane small talk, Rausgeber was down to brass tacks. It wasn't professional, but hopefully it would see to the FOSB contingent leaving as soon as possible.

The agent was however surprised at the approach of the Staff Officer. Although physically weaker, and timid, Ignatius reciprocated the gesture with a firm shake of his own. He briskly nodded, and looked the man in the eye. "Appreciated." Ignatius said, in a stern voice, he was somewhat relieved to see something of some empathy here.

"We should all begin somewhere." The diplomat offered, "I'll take the study." He informed them, "I was at least privy to some of my unc-" he corrected himself, "The Fleet Admiral's works before... he died." He paused, before looking at his compatriots, "I suggest someone take the kitchen, he often worked there." he then paused, "And someone should do a sweep of his bedroom."

[member="The Major"] | [member="Ezra Klev"]

 

[The Major]

"A pleasure, Officer klev."

Similar to the Major the new interrogation officer was quite enigmatic and prone to elusive bits of genius. She had regarded him poorly for his proposal on how to take Kulthis -figuring it was little more than a suicide mission wrapped up in a distraction blanket. And yet here he was, an able to take part in this latest investigation. Underestimation was a dangerous pastime, especially when interacting with the likes of the Security Bureau.

Shaking his hand firmly, she knew that mistake wouldn't be happening again.

Now turning to face the nephew of the late Fleet Admiral, she listened to not only his words but the tone in which they were spoken. Ignatius was restraining himself with the poise of a noble. Fitting for such a famous family within the First Order.

"I'll take the bedroom then. There should be something of note in there."

She had to restrain a certain amount of glee from her voice out of respect for the situation itself. Still, she could barely contain her macabre curiosity. Quick with purpose, the Major follows the pathways of the roomy apartment and enters the bedroom while activating the lights so as to see more clearly.

[member="Ignatius Rausgeber"] [member="Ezra Klev"]

 

[Armand Temi]

As emotionless as he prided himself to be Agent Klev did feel sadness over this lost naval officer, yet it did not usurp the suspicion he felt over the rumored sabotage. Still he kept his expression appropriately grave.

[member="The Major"] made a beeline to the bedroom, which caused Ezra to frown slightly. Any agent worth their weight in salt knew that the most intriguing secrets of any individual could be found in the palace of comfort and vulnerability known as the sleeping quarters. It would be interesting to see if the Admiral slept with a vibro dagger under his mattress. Or if anything of scandal was to materialize in his closet.

“Exactly what do you seek to find?” the imperially groomed agent asked Ignatius.

A will, a note, some kind of sign that his demise was a planned event of which the Rausgbeger family was aware?

“Was he a good uncle to you?”

With a snap, Ezra donned a pair of egg-white, latex gloves and then opened one kitchen cabinet, then another, inspecting a can of Ubuuga caviar. Turning it over in his fingers, he looked at the expiry date and placed it back.

[member="Ignatius Rausgeber"]

 

[Ignatius Rausgeber]

"Central Command wants the apartment clean of any top secret projects." Rausgeber informed the agent, as he began to clear away wires from the coffee table, "The Admiral was infamous among his men for taking projects home with him to work on them." He paused, "Our mission is to simply recover any possible data tapes, and send them to Command for verification." He paused, and considered the Agent's question carefully. How to respond. How to elaborate on the love he had for his uncle. "Yes... He was... better than your average one."

Carlyle's room was far cleaner than the rest of the apartment. Mounted onto the wall was a lovely antique E-11 Blaster Rifle. A brown leather armchair sat in the corner, beneath a lamp, and beside the mahogany ornate bookcase, filled with hundreds of books, datapads and magazines. Beside his bed, sat a bedside table, with Rausgeber's Order of the Iron Sun, the medals he recieved from the Omega campaign, as well as a family picture.

It was a small affair. Rausgeber was clearly identifiable. He was far younger, in fact, if one were to guess, he would be in his early twenties. However he wore a uniform, and wore a grin. One pre the First Order. Beside him stood a beautiful, slender woman, with lovely curly hair and a rather happy disposition. There was a man to Rausgeber's right. He was shorter than the Fleet Admiral. He looked stuffy, and awkward, chubbier than his compatriots. Beside him, stood a sterner woman, who was older. She looked a lot like the chubbier man. However, she was well muscled, and the strength radiating from her biceps was palpable. And on the other side of the first, happy woman, stood an even sterner man, attired in a suit, with a pipe in his mouth.

Needless to say, the Major had stumbled into Rausgeber's family album. Or at least the pictures he cherished. However, there was a noise. A great slam, reverberated through the house as the door to the closet closed. The room hadn't been disturbed by the slight Avalonian breeze, however when the Major entered, with the door still ajar, it closed the closet. Someone must have left it open....

Carlyle's kitchen was not well stocked. The Fleet Admiral often didn't cook for himself, often being entertained by wealthy benefactors and supporters of the First Order, or meals purchased at restaurants. Most of the food at this time was out of date, and not fancy. In fact, it would be considered that the food which was stocked there, was not worthy of his status, but worthy for a poor family. Instant soup, two minute noodles, insta-bread, and all manner of cheap goods littered his pantry.

The contents stood in stark contrast to the marble decor and the ornate taps and fixtures which sat throughout the room. A datapad sat on a bench, and with it a few data tapes ready for examination.

[member="Ezra Klev"] | [member="The Major"]

 

[The Major]

Subtle thoughts of cliché were quickly deconstructed as the intrusive and somewhat lanky agent sat at the dearly departed Fleet Admiral’s bed, taking up what was once his photo album in her hands. Perusing past the snippets that made up the history of a human life, the Major smiled at the snapshots; somehow, even now, the charisma on display within those grins still made a human spirit cheery. Inexplicable positivity colored her interpretation of these events. Imagine the power one could command with something equally parts beautiful and horrible. Propaganda styled sequences played out in her brain -showcasing the dead man in his prime while barking out commands to his bridge officers. Explosions cascade in the viewports, and less competent captains or those truthfully more unlucky were disintegrated as their cruisers atomized in the terrorizing silence of space. Pretty and vibrant colors splashed against the black.

What could she say: romanticism lent itself well to an illusionist.

She took note of the closet door still leaning open just a tad, enough to warrant a closer look; enough to ignore the bookshelves or the antique blaster hanging from the wall.

The agent cracked the door slowly open and peered inside, breath bated as though expecting something to leap out at any moment.

[member="Ezra Klev"] [member="Ignatius Rausgeber"]

 

[Armand Temi]

Top secret projects? That seemed rather forthcoming. Ezra listened to the younger officer as he continued searching the kitchen, especially those smaller drawers that could hide data chips. He would do a sweep of the pantry later. In his experience, individuals tended to not mix food and confidential information, unless it was spice.

He began to feel more confident that the nephew was just an officer on flimsiplast and nothing more with no hidden agenda.

Agent Klev turned his head at the sound of the door slamming. His hand went instinctively to his hip where his blaster was but he did not draw it. He did, however, watch Rausgeber for a reaction. Eventually he was distracted and found the datapad, beginning to peruse through it, keeping an ear out for any odd noises in the bedroom. The Major would most certainly call out if she were encountering anything troublesome in there.

“Strange,” he muttered aloud. He realized the latex glove was an impediment to the touch screen of the device so he removed one of his gloves and began to tap away.

[member="Ignatius Rausgeber"] [member="The Major"]

 

[Ignatius Rausgeber]

A monstrous, yet elegant droid hung as if a man from a noose, on the far wall. It was robed in white, and tied to the wall with all manner of wires, and chains, suspended from the ground. On the droids left side, sat a rank insignia, denoting a rank of fleet admiral. Was this some kind of sick project for Rausgeber? Some kind of marionette, or model for his own ego's sake? The wires suspending the droid trailed up the ceiling, before sliding down, onto a small, rusty, motor, with a console attached. Well, at least it was attached at one stage or another. Because now, it sat, unplugged. The console glowed a red, displaying a message, reading that it required a connection.

As light shone, it showcased the head of the droid well. Like a giant, unblinking eye, a screen sat, gently illuminating the closet as light began to enter. It appeared that whatever this droid had meant to be, it was something curious. Was Rausgeber some kind of sculptor of some sort? Was this an attempt at fulfilling some fantasies of self gratification? Was this some form of mannequin, or perhaps even an aide of some sort? Rausgeber had no officially held diseases or disabilities. Still, it almost beckoned to be activated....

The datapad Agent Klev activated was one which held no passwords. In fact, when he activated it, what popped onto the screen were messages. The recipient on the screen being one Veronica Rausgeber, and judging by her contact information, and the picture she held, it was in fact Carlyle's mother. Many things could be discerned from their conversations. That Rausgeber did have something of an axe to grind against his father. That he felt his mother was often too hard on his sister Mathilde, but on the whole they had a very amicable relationship. In fact, on the last message, Carlyle offered to take her to dinner, should he return from Zonama Sekot on time.

The other data tapes collected were not personal. In fact, some bore official Central Command branding, along with markings, that to an FOSB agent would disclose the tape held top secret and classified material. Some others however, were not marked as secrets of the state, and were instead labelled as ships logs. Part of the mundane paperwork that was part and parcel of working in an organisation as large as the First Order navy. Nonetheless, the datapad was interesting reading....

[member="Ezra Klev"] | [member="The Major"]

 

[Madelyn Lowe]

Emilia solftly pushed open the door, and crossed the threshold into the apartment. Her white blouse and knee-length skirt were neat but not eye catching, and her boots were smart and praactical. Over her shoulder, her usual bag was slung, with her notepad and pens. Brushing a few stray locks of hair from her face, she followed the dull murmur of voices from further inside the building. She was a few minutes late; her driver had missed his turn, and had to double back. But she was here now, and hopefully she hadn't missed too much.

It was clear the apartment had not been used in some time. The air had a certain musty quality to it, and particles of dust hung in the air, visible in the rays of afternoon sun that shone through the slatted blinds on the wide window. The only thing that disturbed the stillness was the low voices emanating from each of the rooms, and the eddies and swirls of disturbed air that carried the dust around the room. She reached into her bag, pulling out a large camera. Emilia raised it to her eye, adjusting the focus and snapping a picture. She turned slowly, carefully documenting each section of the room, before moving on to papers. Pulling on a pair of white cotton gloves, she carefully placed various yellowing papers into a plastic bag, quickly skimming over them to check if they seemed important.

Slowly, she made her way across the living room, snapping photos as she went. Eventually, she passed in front of the doorway into the master bedroom, where a familiar figure caught her eye. [member="The Major"] was inside, the tall, imposing woman opening the door to the closet next to the bed just as Emilia ducked inside. She cleared her throat, and adressed the Supervisory Special Agent. "Major, it's nice to see you again, what have we found here-" The droid entered her line of sight, and she stopped midsentence. "By the moons of Lothal, what is that?" She wondered aloud. The machine was astonishing. A hulking metal beast in the twisted likeness of the late Fleet Admiral, wires and electronics spilling from it's joints into the ceiling, a blank screen sat where it's face would be, dull and featureless.

"This is... Unexpected."

[member="Ignatius Rausgeber"] | [member="Ezra Klev"] | [member="The Major"]​

 

[The Major]

Wonder of wonders; queer, melancholic mystery. The Major was at first awestruck by such a machine hiding in a bedroom. Mouth agape, her mind seeks for some kind of illusion or Sith magic playing tricks with reality. But Carlyle was a practical dead man. Nothing of the sort came across her eyes. All we had left was the chassis polished to a mirror sheen.

The special agent felt the presence of Emilia barging into the bedroom -a red topped shadow moving on the periphery of the taller agent’s line of sight. In and of itself there was nothing offensive to her presence and yet all the same the Major felt the sense that too many eyes were peering upon a dark, perverse secret. She fought the urge to bark at the capable staff officer to back away from the room and to leave the Fallanassi alone to plunder the hidden knowledge stuffed in this aristocratic apartment. Such instincts were derived from selfish curiosity. The FOSB was made of a better class of people; thus, the Major beckoned over Agent Ravel while taking one step back to give her comrade a better view.

“We should get a recording of this object. It might even behove us to get an EOD unit on site to insure the machine isn’t booby trapped.”

Just as the four-eyed spook produced a datapad from her pocket and activated its holonet connection a sudden whirling of startling electrical noise filled the room. Some kind of subroutine within the machine was clearly running in reaction to the device in the Major’s hand. Instead of obeying commands pushed by the operative’s fingers, the device flicked across multiple screens and data packets until it uncovered a number of duty logs and technical data on the FIV Malice.

That’s right, the Major had briefly served upon the fleet admiral’s vessel for a two week period while training a signal intelligence team to capture battle data in real time for analysis -along with updating the cyberwarfare modules of the vessel to the latest codes. This very datapad, a device that never truly left the agent’s side, was also aboard that vessel. It had accessed the vessel’s internal network, and somehow the robot standing in front of her was reacting to it.

Somewhat alarmed, the agent backed away since the arms were starting to move and writhe. Always concerned with preserving the life of her side at all times, the Major instinctively put her arm out and pushed on Emilia’s stomach, covering her from direct attack from a blaster bolt -should it come to it.

She flinched when a projected image of Carlyle Rausgeber’s face fizzled into existence upon the forward screen, flicking in blue static as holo-eyes stared quite poignantly upon the pair of agents slowly making for the doorway.

[member="Emilia Ravel"] | [member="Ezra Klev"] | [member="Ignatius Rausgeber"]​

 

[Armand Temi]

Momentarily Ezra lifted his head, pausing his study of the datapad contents to see that Agent Ravel had entered the room. He noted her with a tense smile and returned to his task. The sound of a camera clicking and snapping accompanied his investigation.

“I’m going to have to confiscate this for the time being, but it will be returned to you, Ignatius. There could be a few keepsakes in here, but most is of interest to the Order.” He tucked it into his black carrying case, the one made from Ssi-ru hide.

By this time, Agent Klev realized that his compatriots had found something quite intriguing in the bedroom based on the whirring noise drifting out of that area of the apartment. Though it sounded a bit like a blender, surely they weren’t mixing up frozen cocktails in there. As the two operatives backed up, Ezra bumped right into them, holding a small flashlight up and shining it between their two shoulders to land upon the sight of the strange, mechanical marionette with the visage of Admiral Rausgeber himself.

“Perhaps a decoy of some kind?”

He’d caught the tail end of The Major’s suggestion of calling in an EOD unit, so while his first instinct was so head straight for the odd, closet doppelganger, heeding her words of caution seemed to be the most appropriate course of action.

[member="Ignatius Rausgeber"] [member="The Major"] [member="Emilia Ravel"]

 

[Robogeber]

Connection online....

Scanning holonet...

Scanning secure channel Bravo, Delta, Sigma....

Parameters,"Fleet Admiral", "Carlyle", "Rausgeber", "Dead" initiated.....

Parameter found...

Initiate "Contingency.exe".....

The machine began to stir at first, as it began to calibrate itself. Its fists clenched, and its head straightened as if starring down Ravel and the Major. The sound of hissing began to fill the air, and a gust of wind blew out of the closet. The low hum of a repulsorlift filled the air, as the droid effortlessly broke free of its bindings. The metal and wire restraints which had confined it, snapped and clattered to the ground, as the droid moved forward. Its screen remained black, showing only the reflection of the three occupants who had come to inspect it.

As it reached the end of the hallway, the droids screen began to flicker on. Static first fizzled, but soon a picture became clear. One which displayed the sneering face of the late, Carlyle Edrich Rausgeber. The droid stood tall, and the head moved to examine the assembled trio, assessing them coolly. After what felt like an eternity, it spoke. "Major Shepard..." The droid spoke, in what was clearly Rausgeber's voice, however it now had a mechanical, and almost sinister baritone effect to it. The droids pale, blue tinted eyes locked with the Major's. "What is the meaning of your intrusion?"

[member="The Major"] | [member="Emilia Ravel"] | [member="Ezra Klev"]

 

[Ignatius Rausgeber]

Ignatius busied himself in the study, sifting through the Fleet Admiral's personal data terminal, and archiving his work to a series of FOSB series encrypted data tapes. As the data tapes ran their job, Ignatius had taken time to examine his uncle's study. However, his interest piqued when he heard the whirring noise. The young FOSB officer decided that he too wished to investigate. Sweeping briskly through the apartment, he followed the trio of his compatriots to his uncles bedroom.

Ignatius personally hoped that this wasn't some kind of joke, or that his fellow officers had found something amusing to look at. However, when he turned the corner, ready to scold them all, he saw the droid, and their shock. And then, upon that droids face, the image of his dead uncle. Rausgeber felt his heart seize up, and clutched it, "Tha-that's...." It was all a little too much for the overworked agent to handle, and he immediately fell back, onto the bedroom floor, fainting.

[member="The Major"] | [member="Ezra Klev"] | [member="Emilia Ravel"]

 

[Madelyn Lowe]

Emilia stepped back, letting [member="The Major"]'s firm push on her stomach move her away from danger, trusting the woman's instincts. She stumbled away from the droid, fumbling for her camera and snapping a quick picture of the strange machine. Standing at the doorway a few metres from the droid, Emilia turned to see [member="Ignatius Rausgeber"] walk in. Upon seeing the eerie bot, with its image of the late Fleet Admiral pasted on it's face, the young agent promptly fainted. Rushing to catch him, Emilia grabbed his torso and lowered him to the ground, before snapping her gaze back to the automaton.

She gazed warily towards it, ready to run at a moment's notice. Her heart fluttered in her chest, why were these missions never normal? This was supposed to be routine, but had turned out anything but. The droid spoke, addressing the Supervisory Special Agent. Emilia wished to herself that she'd brought a blaster, but she hadn't thought one would be needed. The droid didn't seem to have overtly hostile intentions, at least for now.

The droid's purpose confused her. Was this some attempt at a second life? Perhaps Carlyle had been troubled by his own mortality, maybe this droid was an effort to live enternally. Then again, perhaps the Fleet Admiral didn't know of the existence of the machine. It had no semblance of humanity apart from the eerie glowing face. Could this be some sort elaborate assassin droid? Or even a bodyguard? If so, what purpose did the screen serve? This was strange. Very strange.

Whatever this droid was, right now it was a threat. Emilia squared her shoulders. She doubted she'd could do much against the hunk of metal with her small frame, but she was ready to step in should it make a move against The Major. The woman had saved Emilia's life before, she owed her the same courtesy.

[member="Ignatius Rausgeber"] | [member="Robogeber"] | [member="Ezra Klev"] | [member="Ignatius Rausgeber"]​

 

[The Major]

From somewhere to the rear the distinctive auditory cue of a body collapsing thudded upon the bedroom carpet. Besides the noise it hardly registered upon the transmogrified Major's shocked senses. She was transfixed by the robot's scowl; mortified by how perfectly it scowled in the image of the late Fleet Admiral. Transported to what seemed a lifetime ago, the agent could almost see the banners hanging over Bespin -blushing hot and purple at embarrassing herself during a first assignment. Snap to, Girl! In the moment -stay in the moment.

So many questions could fill her brain right now. However, the Supreme Leader wouldn't have bothered giving her such onerous tasks if she wasn't up to par. For better or worse, Sybil was a creep in some respects. Morbid. And Curious. Oddities and absurdities surrounded each assignment. She could process such insanity on the fly, or least that was the theory on paper. Leave the questions and analysis to the more detail oriented agents -the frenetic Fallanassi would instead stoke the fires of change and play along. One often discovered far more that way. On the fly, Sybil took careful note of what tense the robotic Rausgeber was crackling across his speakers.

A precision salute is executed. "Sir! We are investigating the circumstances surrounding the organic Carlyle Rausgeber's death. The details are suspect. Could you please share any information that you may have about him? Did he program you? Was he aware that he would be dying soon? If so, why didn't he inform his superiors or the security bureau? Was he suicidal -begging your pardon, sir!?"

Alas, Sybil assumed she would keep her cool, but already her body was tensing to move forward and toward the robot. Clearly, she was just dying to closely inspect the construction of the droid. It had to be droid, right?

​

[member="Robogeber"] | [member="Ezra Klev"] | [member="Emilia Ravel"]​

 

[Armand Temi]

The strange looking prop was no theater accoutrement after all. It was a machine, a droid to be specific. Ezra remained fairly nonchalant as he just assumed this was the Admiral’s robot footman who’d been stuffed in the closet for too long.

Until the face appeared and what a face it was! It matched the flimsiplast image in his dossier on Carlyle Rausgerber, decorated but deceased Admiral of the FIrst Order. He heard a wheezing noise and then a thumb. Ignatius was on the floor. He supposed he should go tend to the man especially to see if he had a concussion, but by Great Pit of Carkoon, Agent Klev could not turn away! Besides, Agent Ravel had the junior officer cradled now, situation under control.

And in looking around at the slightly humorous scene, the two FOSB spooks aghast and frozen, their colleague, The Major beginning to frantically interrogate the droid, the nephew passed out on the floor, he’d almost chuckle as the sight was rather comical. But Ezra remained the portrait of smooth professionalism as he began to change out his blaster load with an ion power-pack just in case the Major needed backup of a more physical nature.

[member="Robogeber"] [member="The Major"] [member="Emilia Ravel"]

 

[Robogeber]

The droid stood there, silently watching as the agent caught his nephew. "Someone please take him to the couch in the living room." Carlyle ordered, "I'd rather have my nephew away from all this business," He drawled, "I imagine I must have given the boy a heart attack." The droid quietly mused, before its interest returned to the Major. The holographic face arched an eyebrow in Sybil's direction and derisively sneered at the woman. A clear show of some disdain, but more so, a showing that the droid could, and was reacting to their actions and could emote.

"Once again, with the questions Major Shepard." The droid coolly began, "How impolite." It glowered, "No hello. No telling me how I've died. Just asking me mundane question, after question." The droid coldly snapped. It was clear he was somwhat affronted by the Majors attitude to all of this. However, he continued. "Carlyle Rausgeber was, and is, a man who feared death, and believed his legacy was not over." The droid began, informatively, its head turned, to encompass all the assembled agents, making sure to take in the group.

"I took it upon myself, when I was still alive to store logs of my memory." the sentinel informed the group, speakers crackling somewhat with a metallic echo. "To ensure that should I die, there would be some document, for historians to use. For my memory to become permanent." The droid paused, "However, the collapse of the One Sith, and the Omega Operation threw into sharp relief, the need for me to survive, after death." The droid paused again, as if collecting its thoughts. "I wanted to have children...." The droid almost ashamedly admitted, "I wanted to have flesh and blood. A family! Sons and daughters to succeed me."

"I wanted to begin a dynasty of tacticians, whom the whole Galaxy would revere." The automaton raised a fist, and looked to the ceiling, as if delivering some grand speech. "But instead, I was cursed with lucklessness... With the romantic charisma of a gamorrean with extra chromosomes." The droid sighed, and glumly returned to addressing the investigative group. "So, I formed a contingency," The droid continued. "A three point plan, which would see myself given a second chance."

The droid now explicitly turned to the Major. "I want-" It again paused, correcting itself. "I need, to know. How did I die Major. Why did it come to this."

[member="The Major"] | [member="Emilia Ravel"] | [member="Ezra Klev"]

 

[The Major]

It was a vast pill to swallow, and yet the robot's diction and tone did more to put the Major at ease than any other comforting gesture. It was undeniably an action of the sort of caliber the late fleet admiral would have taken. How remarkably well programed this machine was. Deciding that curiosity had superseded any pretense of politeness or personal boundary (do robots have personal boundaries?) the Major walked more closely to the facsimile of greatness.

"That's what we are trying to ascertain, Sir. Ahem. . . you, died in what appears to be a reactor overload during the recent Zonama Sekot campaign. The Security Bureau suspects foul play afoot."

She turned back to her compatriots and winked subtly. Miss Shepardt did not want to give the impression that she actually believed this bucket of highly polished bolts was truly aligned with the late admiral or an extension of his will. Yet. . .

"Currently, most of the Order is not aware of your passing, but the top brass is devastated by the loss. We distinctively wish to get to the bottom of this, Sir. Surely, you must have known something about the risk to your life."

The somewhat bold agent craned her neck low and around as though trying to get a look behind where. . . "Robogeber" was standing.

​

[member="Robogeber"] | [member="Ezra Klev"] | [member="Emilia Ravel"]​