Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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A Chance Meeting

The world of Taloraan was most unusual for a Gas Giant, with a breathable atmosphere and being a supply of Tibanna gas the planet was an ideal location for organic settlement and mining. What was more, there was life on the world that had been used for many centuries to help the newly arrived organics to better survive on the planet. Yet, as with most other gaseous planets there did not appear to be any native sentient life. It was perhaps odd that there were so few, if indeed any, such life existed. If the organic theory of macro evolution were correct, would not sentient life have already appeared on most life bearing planets?

Such a question was beyond Ultimatum, and truthfully he only allowed himself to occasionally question the origins of life and reality. It was a rare luxury, to spare thoughts for such inconsequential things. After all, what did it matter where we came from? Was it truly necessary to know? If that knowledge was known, would it truly change how everybody looked at the galaxy around them? Would they act differently because of it? The artificial did not believe so, thus it was more important to contemplate about the future and what it would bring. Therefore Ultimatum believed that his focus was needed entirely on the future and the end.

Ultimatum had come to Taloraan for one reason, to meet with an organic who had more knowledge and experience than him in the art of ships. The artificial was on a quest and in that mission knowledge was all the power he could need. Everything he could learn, everything thing that could possibly be known, that was his first goal. To know all that he could. The organic he had come to meet, [member="Krasnaya Xue"], had not been made aware of his immanent arrival. He hoped that she would be willing to speak with a stranger. It had taken awhile to track down her work place, but it seemed a fairly accessible location. Supervising traffic control was not the easiest of tasks and thus the artificial did not want to disturb her work. He waited outside the building after speaking with one of the workers in the tower. With some perseverance and a little money he had persuaded the employee to pass along the message that someone wished to speak with Xue, more exactly a droid outside' wanted to speak with her. Ultimatum was patient, willing to wait for whatever amount of time it would take patience was a strength of his.
 
The fraternity of the Rebellion had faded away, the Sith mostly imploded and no Republic left to cooperate with. It all felt like it was in some distant, blurry past; like she had only dreamed of it all. Here was the woman entrusted with command of the Rebel Alliance's most esteemed fleet, working as nothing more than a manager of in-and-out flight operations. It wasn't an exciting career, but it was safe and steady. She knew what she was doing and was respected for it, and that was all that mattered anymore. Maybe heroes aren't meant to last.

Krasnaya was in the middle of guiding in a GR-75 full of empty tibanna drums when she received an odd message from a member of her deck operations crew. Sometimes she received the occasional call from downstairs to personally greet a corporate representative, a safety inspector, or just to personally investigate some suspicious cargo. But never had she been beckoned by a droid. What was a droid doing near the control tower, anyway? All robotic crew under her command were assigned to the docking zones. She glanced around the control room, crystalline blue eyes scanning each member of the afternoon shift as if they were suddenly going to laugh at some big joke. But if there was a prank at hand, no one appeared to be anticipating one.

"Pacval?" she muttered, leaning over the shoulder of her most senior team member.

"Yeah?"

"Keep guiding for me, yeah? You're in control?"

"Uh, sure. I got it."

"Good. I'll be back shortly."

Krasnaya stood back straight and made her way to the turbolift. About a dozen seconds later, she exited the lift on the city's top deck, striding out of the foot of the tower. She wasn't exactly sure what she was searching for, but it didn't take long to spot that machine gleaming in the reddish haze of the cloud-filtered sunlight. The former military officer cautiously pressed her left hand to her waist, just above the DL-18 pistol clipped to her belt before approaching the massive android. She wasn't sure what it was, but there was a nagging feeling of deja vu about this situation...

"Zdravstvuyte?"

[member="Ultimatum"]
 
For a little while it seemed that the organic might not show, perhaps he had misjudged how long it would take to reach the tower control. Ultimatum had wondered if perhaps Xue would attempt to wait him out, or leave via another exit. For whatever reason, Ultimatum felt that perhaps she might not be willing to meet with him, as if there had been a negative experience between them before. He had nothing in his memory banks that showed them even meeting, much less fighting, though he had for a short while be in the same movement as the organic. The Rebel Alliance was a shared factor in both of their lives. Ultimatum had never truly believed in the cause, but he had not been programmed to at the beginning anyways. His purpose had been to destroy anything like the Alliance and crush anything even remotely akin to it. Now though the Rebels were no more and Ultimatum had altered his view on the organic belief.

Ultimatum continued to wait, watching the system's star slowly crawl across the sky. The dust in the sky turned it red and brown, no unlike the ash and soot filled atmosphere of Mustafar. The artificial felt a longing to return to the world. Yet, that planet was locked off to him, a product of the war, the foolish conflicts of organics over such temporary things as borders and control. Some might call him a victim, a dislocated governor, a madman, so on and so forth. Ultimatum saw his removal from Mustafar as a moment of realization. He had finally been made aware of truth of organic government. It never mattered how well someone lead a group there would always been one person who would oppose you and gather followers to the eventual downfall of the ruler. Ultimatum wondered if this current feeling was akin to the organic emotions, another sign of his hybrid nature.

Then at last [member="Krasnaya Xue"] arrived, Ultimatum did not notice at first as he was focused on the sky and the sun. It was not until she spoke that he turned quickly, recognizing the face compared to his stored memory he was fairly certain he was speaking to the right person. He did not understand the word she spoke. Perhaps it was another language that he did not recognize, he responded as best he could guess.

"Hello, Ms Xue. Thank you for coming to meet with me. I do not believe we have met properly, my name is Ultimatum." The droid bowed before stopping to allow her to speak, hoping that she understood basic.
 
The mechanical figure seemed lost in contemplation as she approached, but that could not be possible. Machines do not think, they simply do as their commands are defined. Piecing together logic through algorithms was not the same as independent thought. He might just be programmed to observe the sky, or something like that. Intelligent droids. That was a joke--or a dangerous proposition.

Krasnaya paused in her careful approach of the machine as it spoke. There was something familiar about the composition and the shape of this robot, and she simply could not shake the sensation of deja vu. What could she have possibly experienced that held any similarity to a giant talking droid requesting her presence? Ultimatum. She had heard it before, had she not? It buzzed in her mind in the same way a cloud car passed overhead, stirring the unpredictable winds and fluttering the bangs of her hair like airfoils.

The dark blond woman widened her stance, maintaining a guarded posture with her hand still braced near the blaster dangling by her hip. "Yes, so I am Ms. Xue, yeah." Her tone was neutral and direct, though her accent produced her vowels from a seemingly deeper area of her throat than the typical native Basic speaker, their intonations more open and occasionally elongated. Her eyes rested upon his metallic being with an almost vacant yet quizzical expression. It was obvious that she was not used to hosting such visitors.

Ultimatum, Ultimatum, Ultimatum... Where in the galaxy had she heard that name before? "Why are you're asking for me?"

[member="Ultimatum"]
 
Hostility, why was he sensing hostility? There was no sign of ill intent from the organic yet he felt as if she were angered or in some way hostile towards him. Perhaps it was a glitch in his memory, there was a strange connection to something he could not remember and the current meeting. It was a most strange phenomenon, but he could not allow himself to be caught up in it. Instead, he tried to focus on the line of query he had planned.

The droid moved one of his metal hands and scratched the back of his head, putting a slightly curious tone into his voice, "I assume that it is not often that you meet with droids in such a way. I am the leader of a company that works extensively in starships. I have been told through reliable sources that you have experience with commanding ships. I would be appreciative if you could share such knowledge as you have garnered from your work."

Ultimatum stared back at the sky for a moment, then remembered and started. Turning to [member="Krasnaya Xue"] he added, "Of course we do not have to do so here. If you are willing we can move to a more comfortable location." The artificial had almost forgotten that such things as temperature and environment were important when dealing with organics. To the droid the molten heat of Mustafar to the Freezing cold of Hoth were all the same to him. Yet he knew that it was not the same to organics and while not always remembering he attempted to keep that in mind.
 
Xue stared almost blankly at the droid's plated face, her body canted to one side as her weight rested primarily on her right foot in a stance that broadcast impatience. Her eyes only stirred when she heard him state that he was the leader of a company. Shifting quickly to a straighter posture, the woman turned her head, beady blue eyes darting about the upper tiers of the nearby structures. Certainly a droid would not be in charge of a corporation. This had to be a decoy, and the person she was really speaking with was only projecting his voice through the mechanical man.

"Yes, yes... Now, where are you?" she prodded, convinced that this robot was merely a complex puppet. "I'm not interested in games if you're wanna talk, yeah."

Krasnaya rotated about, feet shuffling slowly so she could observe everything around her. Then she realized she had turned her back to a giant metal man and whirled back, fingers tapping on the grip of her handgun nervously as she carefully crept away from the figure of [member="Ultimatum"] and towards a parked cart train carrying empty tibanna gas drums, hoping to be able to duck behind it if any ill will was intended. "Where are you talking from? I can meet you there if you're want it so much."
 
Ultimatum wavered for a moment, wondering what she was talking about. He was right here... His body could not be any more obvious in the light with its silvery gleam. Certainly the dust kicked up in the wind did create some fuzziness, not to mention was likely floating around inside his internal systems, but that would hardly change visibility. The artificial turned to look behind him, searching for whatever it was that Xue had been hunting for. He watched her spin in place before touching her weapon. Ultimatum almost moved for his own blaster, but stopped himself.

Pointing to himself for emphasis he stated, "I'm right here."

Did she know he could inhabit more than one body at a time? Perhaps she had been observing to find any give away of a sniper's position or something of that ilk. While certainly a good thing to be cautious of when meeting a stranger, Ultimatum was no small amount hurt from the idea that he would wish to harm her. He took a step towards her, no more than two feet forward. He hoped that would give her still enough room to feel safe.

"There is nobody there, if you are concerned about gunmen. I'm completely alone." He waved around behind him to demonstrate.

[member="Krasnaya Xue"]
 
Still unbelieving, Krasnaya's eyebrows pinched towards her nose, eyes nearly squinting as if she was expecting [member="Ultimatum"] to fizzle out of her vision and reveal a more organic puppeteer standing behind him. But there was nothing he appeared to be hiding. And despite the alarm she felt from the situation, she registered what almost appeared to be a disarming gesture from the large droid. It was far too natural to be natural for a machine. It was bordering the surreal to observe.

Repenting from her retreat, the former admiral inched once more towards the metallic giant. "So. You're a droid and you're owning a company, is what you're saying, yeah?" She removed her hand from her side and locked her arms folded below her breast, trying to emanate a calm and confident demeanor, though her eyes betrayed their distrust as she scanned to see if there were any other droids to be found in the vicinity. Only the usual deck crew stirred in the area, some of them eyeing Ultimatum curiously but none concerned enough to stop performing their tasks as they noticed their supervisor engaging with the mechanical being. Why was she the only one on edge?

"Which company are... erm... you represent?"
 
When she seemed to understand that he indeed was the only one here, Ultimatum felt relieved. The artificial nodded to her first question, and as she began her second question his hands clasped behind his back. The droid had learned early on that he found that position most comfortable, legs slightly apart and hands behind his back on in the other. For what reason? He did not know, he guessed it might be related to his creator's preferences but he had no way of knowing for sure.

Taking on a more official tone, Ultimatum explained, "I am the creator and current leader of LOOM, Legacy Of Organics Manufacturer. As I mentioned before, LOOM works starcraft and other technology. We were based in Mustafar until recently." The artificial was somewhat upset by the recent developments on the galactic scale. The capture of Mustafar by the Sith had forced him to leave with most of his personnel and only keep a minor station operational in the system. If [member="Krasnaya Xue"] paid attention to his face, she might catch a hint of sadness in his expression, something clearly beyond most droids.
 
The robot remained placid, even transferring its jointed sculpture to mimic a humanoid in relaxed and dignified pose. Krasnaya was still a proponent of her prior theory: that the droid was simply an elaborate puppet of some paranoid businessman. These movements; these intonations; these fidgeting gestures could not possibly be artificial. [member="Ultimatum"] may be the complex, computerized contraption standing tall before her, but there must be some cowardly man behind the voice.

But now that she felt less panicked, the message that allegedly prompted this meeting between human and machine burgeoned in importance. "For what purpose are you making your starships?" she quizzed, baffled as to why a machine would need vehicles, or why it would occupy its time with managing a company, or why it might be compelled to create products for profit. Droids were but an image that living beings manufactured to do specific tasks or acquire specific knowledge. Even independently operating droids were motivated by pre-programmed guidelines.

Could a droid lie? Perhaps if it believed the lie to be truth, Krasnaya surmised. She shook her head with flustered rapidness as she caught herself imitating Ultimatum's wide stance. Maybe jamming the comms would shut down whatever transmissions the droid was receiving and smoke out whoever may be controlling him.

Him. What made it a him, anyway?
 
What purpose? A good question. The droid had been afraid that the conversation would be sidetracked by the organic's apparent disillusionment with his current status. He was glad that they could move onto a subject that he could expound upon easily. One of his hands moved from its position behind him and moved to and for making minor movements as he explained, "At the moment, my primary focus of ship construction is merely military vessels. For the defense of the company and its allies, as well as exerting its will when required. My personal long term objective is to build reliable intergalactic ships. From what I found about your past, you served as key element of a military fleet some time ago."

Pointing to [member="Krasnaya Xue"] and motioning to the planet beneath them as he continued after a pause, "I came to you with the understanding that your expertise within that area has not dulled with your time here... Not that I am suggesting that this employment has had a negative impact on your abilities." The artificial tried to correct what he saw as a potential insult. The meeting had not started on the best situation and now he feared that a slip up might create more tension and further degradation of the relations.
 
"Ships?" The woman raised her eyebrows, exuding a borderline mocking tone at the suggestion. It was unusual for her to be called upon for naval expertise. The Rebellion was in the shadows and she was not standing on a bridge anymore. Many might consider that a failure to her résumé. So why would this executive seek her out for advice on constructing military vessels? Shouldn't they have more successful people on their contact list?

And why would she hand over valuable information on warship construction and weapons to just anyone? It was baffling how forward this... being was. "So. You're think I'm good advisor for ships?" The suggestion tempted a burst of laughter to erupt from Krasnaya's lungs, but she caught it within her throat and held it back. The entire situation suddenly became a humorous realization to her that someone had traveled to Cherniy City over Taloraan to speak to her about a military fleet. What were they thinking? She was nobody now. Every day she stood in the tower making sure the tibanna drums were flowing in and out safely and on time. This was what she was now.

"You're not really know who I am, do you? You don't know." Oddly less reticent about [member="Ultimatum"]'s presence, Krasnaya kicked forward like a devious schoolgirl, swaying on her back foot. "And I'm not knowing who you are. So. Why should I support you?"
 
The sudden change in attitude by the organic surprised Ultimatum, and made him uneasy. Her increase in certainty was unsettling in its abruptness. Most people would not believe for a second that a droid was capable of such an abstract feeling as nervousness. Yet Ultimatum could feel it and it was in and of itself a disturbing notion. Designed by organics to replicate organic behavior he had made that final leap to true sentience when Ultimatum defied his very programming. At least that was his own personal belief. Most would claim that he was in need of a memory wipe and a sturdy restraining bolt.

For a moment the artificial being questioned himself. Had he found the person he had been looking for? Perhaps he had simply found someone with similar physical aspects, after all in a galaxy full of beings it was bound to occur where one looked like another. The droid took a step back, his countenance becoming more reserved. His hands fell to his sides as his mind began to race and his head began to bow. Not a moment passed before he swung his back up and asked with a monotone voice, "You are [member="Krasnaya Xue"], correct?"

Ultimatum wearily shook his head as he continued, not allowing her to speak, the specific intonations he had created for himself returned into his voice, "You were a fleet commander according to records. You were part of a movement against the Sith forces of the time. We share a common background, though we never met that I am aware of. You are continuing to work to keep people safe and I have not greater desire than to keep your kind safe from every threat. I do not believe you are the best fleet commander in this time, but you are the one I believe who will help preserve your own." It was a heavy handed speech, lacking the subtitles he had attempted to utilize before.

The artificial had come to enjoy the complexities of organic communication, so many layers of different ways to say the exact same thing. A single word could have a thousand different meanings. He did not naturally think in that way, his mind was the cold simplicity of the one and zero. Everything was on, off, or some assortment of the two. To another computer he would communicate in such a way that his exact meaning was unquestionable, in fact it was impossible for it to be used in any other capacity. Whereas with the dialects of organics he could spin talk that could be used to mean many things. Such depth brought a richness that he never would have felt before. Yet unfortunately he found that sometimes the bluntness of straight speed was necessary to transmit his ideas to those around him. He found it off putting and was certain that others would find it the same and thus avoided it as best possible. Now was one of those times where he fell into the simple speech and he dearly hoped it would not alienate his potential ally.
 
Our people? This [member="Ultimatum"] spoke in an unusual third-person context. She took it as a specific reference to either the people of Taloraan or perhaps the people of Sibakan. But what interest could he possibly have in their relatively small society? Few people had traveled to the immediate area of the Rosski System. Why did anyone feel the need to protect them? Maybe she was misinterpreting the implication to this droid's words.

A crewman interrupted her momentarily, crossing in front of her and the massive droid before mumbling foreign words towards his supervisor. Krasnaya shrugged her shoulders initially, then raised her left hand towards a large loading bay in the distance. "Pereditye ko skladu," she trilled, syllables firing from her tongue like the clack of an automatic weapon. The crewman nodded affirmation and proceeded towards a small assembly of fellow dock workers, motioning them towards the warehouse as his boss had directed.

Krasnaya raised an eyebrow curiously at the robot after the brief exchange, wondering if the artificial being could understand her language. Feeling perhaps in a dominant spirit, she widened her stance and loosed her arms sideways in an open gesture. She hardly felt comfortable about this whole situation, but someone was at least offering respect. Someone desired her time. "Tak... Where you're want to discuss this? Ultimatum?"
 
The artificial was not aware of the perhaps misinterpretation of his words, again it fell to the concept of a multiplicity of means for a singular statement. The nuances were many and it was not always possible to discern or choose the perfect wordage for a specific thought. It must be even more difficult for organics to decide what to say. Then again it might be as simple as avoiding most of the language they have learned, which Ultimatum had never truly realized being a reality. The idea that one could speak a language, and throughout the entirety of their lifespan not utilize every word at least once... it was, well unthinkable. If this happened they why were the other words in existence? Their sole purpose was to aid in the physical communication of mental concepts between two separate beings, so why would there be such a collection of superfluous words?

When [member="Krasnaya Xue"] spoke to one of the crewman Ultimatum was intrigued to hear more of the language that he now assumed she had been speaking before. There were a plethora of languages throughout the galaxy, every species seemed to have a different native tongue and in some cases people of the same species did as well. It was often boggling even to contemplate the languages, much less identify them. This language that she spoke, Ultimatum knew not. He could have spent perhaps minutes or hours attempting to run through a list of languages readily available on the HoloNet in an attempt to discover what language it was and how to speak it. But as it was, Ultimatum was certain there were better uses for his time.

Even as the man walked away Krasnaya took a more confident posture. Was this a good sign for the droid? He did not yet know. Perhaps she was more comfortable now, knowing that he had come to her and that he was looking for her expertise. Whatever the reason, the artificial attempted to keep a positive outlook on that. She started with a word that sounded like basic, but he was certain was of the same language of before. Then came the words that he recognized readily. She was asking as if the droid truly cared where they spoke. He was not one to be bothered by rain or sun. Mustafar had taken what little care he had about the whether or comfort and blasted it. However, he understood that organics were far more fragile and so he responded with appropriate, as far as he knew, levels of respect in his intonation, "Perhaps in the shade, somewhere where we may sit?"
 
It was a peculiarly unspecific suggestion made by the mechanical being, and Krasnaya eyebrows crooked at the implication of allowing her any choice she so desired. Charted points and landmarks were more appropriate for those who wished to meet over personal and confidential matters. And, assuming as she did that this machine had a distant controller, the man behind the curtain could not possibly arrive before she did if their discussion was to be hosted on her territory.

That led right back around to the question: Was this Ultimatum an independent artificial being? The probability of it caused a notable tremor through her body, and she attempted to distract from the visible disturbance by nonchalantly raking her fingers through her dark honey hair. "Tak... So--erm--you're not minding any place?"

A theory stirred inside her mind, the possibility of a hidden assassination in the shade being very real to the fearful compartment of her mind that catered to trace paranoia. There were still people who begrudged her, to be sure. It was no simple possibility to dismiss. But she was on her own turf. She had been handed the reins of this conversation, and the decision was hers as to where they would talk.

Krasnaya had just dispatched some of the crew to a nearby storage shed for idle tibanna drums. If they could keep enough distance to avoid eavesdropping, but an convenient proximity to the crew that they would notice should this droid try something unsavory, she could perhaps find solace in the course of their mutual divulgences of uncommon technology. "Follow me, yeah?" She waved an arm and set her feet in motion, treading towards a stack of plasteel cargo crates stacked beneath the shadows of the upper deck. They might even be tall enough for this droid to sit upon. If droids indeed require rest.
 
There was that word again, 'Tak.' Perhaps it was a personality click, like a twitch or something. Ultimatum was not certain. There were many cultures throughout the galaxy, some had seemingly odd characteristics that boggled those of other cultures. Perhaps this was one of those. The artificial wondered if he could ask about that at some point, though in many cases it was considered impolite to do such. It was a strange phenomenon, that organics were so protective of their cultures. Any form of insult, perceived or real, would cause one to become very defensive. And for what? A mere difference so slight that it is only truly perceptible on a scale that mattered little to the everyday person.

Yet he tried to allow organics to have their eccentricities. Ultimatum nodded as [member="Krasnaya Xue"] asked the initial question. He hoped she would choose a place where they might speak with more comfort. It was not a matter of significant importance, but the droid hoped that it would create a less contrasting environment. Most organics were less antagonistic when in a greater degree of comfort. Relaxation often allowed minds to be more open to different ideas. At least that was his understanding, and he hoped it would turn out to work that way.

The large artificial followed as she led the way. He did take note of the fact that there were people nearby, Ultimatum was certain that was intentional. Perhaps she did not trust him, but it didn't really matter to the droid. He did not need extreme privacy, as if everything he was going to speak was some form of sensitive material. Whatever he said, would be kept as clear as possible of things that might endanger the work ahead. When they reached the crates, the droid gently lowered himself onto one of them. There was a minor scuffing as his metal scraped on the crate, but he gave it no heed. That was just part and parcel of being a droid. He didn't have the soft padding of skin and flesh over his hard metallic bones.

After a moment he asked, "Is this comfortable? It should not be too many questions. I would not want to divert you from your work any longer than I have to."
 

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