A Pilgrimage Begins (Ord Cestus)

[50H31]

Five-oh had done many things. He had served in the Primeval armies. He had engaged with Mandalorian Mercenaries. He had commanded Techno Union droid divisions. But now, none of these mattered. Not as much as what came next.



The company that had made him--Hegemonic automaton--had been mothballed. The Techno Union had been selling assets left and right as well. With no one to lay claim to the facility on Ord Cestus, the robotic monk had finally found a place to convert into a proper base of operations. An ordnance world, a fitting place for a fallen droid general.


The robotic monk whistled cheerily as he trudged along the rather quiet road to the building's perimeter. Security would likely be at a minimal amount, but he could probably handle it. Still, he and his loyal pet, Natsumi, ambled along the highway. He figured the abandoned facility would be a grand new place for the Yellow Circuits to rise. He smiled. His tactical computers flickered, analyzing the most and least dangerous means of dealing with the region. If he secured the base, that would be excellent. Still, this would be part of a grander scheme, and at least serve as a nice abandoned depot to begin searching for his true desire.

 

[50H31]

The facility. now abandoned, was still impressive. A large, grey and silver sign stood in front of the heavy bridge, made for loading large shipments of equipment. Hegemonic Automaton. Formerly, the logo has said "These are the droids you're looking for," beneath the sign, but graffiti and vandalism changed it to "These aren't the jobs you can keep," and some sad tick of sympathy hummed within the monk-droid's thrumming power cord. "Hmmm, the place seems all but abandoned. Power's not on, either. Ah, well. We can definitely start here,"




The Droid trudged along the large duracrete bridge. Assuming the building had some power cells in reserve and a functional hypermatter reactor, he could begin the basics and just do research. Full scale manufacture would be right out, but the sheer amoutn of information on droid design and production here would be useful. As would the hardware. A mas upload into his framework...or maybe the creation of an autonomous secondary brain. He chuckled as a spark of insight flickered.


"There probably still a large number of un-programmed overstock equipment here. J-1 models connected to a localized intranet coudl create a redundant network. Still, it wouldn't be right to confine them in such a way. Perhaps creating a redundant usage system...." He nodded. If Bao Duhr could establish a monastery of flesh-people, why could a droid not do the same with his own ilk? He probably couldn't mass-produce, but he could beget a few dozen humanoid frame variants in a month or two, and then progress from there.


The monk smiled, floating off of his large pet with a smile as he nuzzled Natsumi's neck. "Natsumi, feel free to graze about. We will be here for a while, now," he said, walking up to the door and unloading a few things from his bag. Power cells, low-grade weaponry, diagram's, a half-dozen datapads, memory crystals, and notes on all sorts of things. The Droid monk started to slice the door.




"Form is not the limitation of consciousness, it is merely the vessel in which it is contained," Five-oh repeated the mantra he had considered for so long. There are difficult questions. Was he conscious? Was he real? If he were a person, which he felt he was, that would have serious implications. Rights. Politics. Hundreds of thousand of planets condemned slavery, with the exception of droids. And clones, to a lesser extent. Was autonomy forfeited by virtue of being created? Was that fair?



The door groaned open. "Well, I suppose this will be an excellent start." Cestus, what a name for a world. It was a primitive type of weapon, meant to make a punch hit harder. Appropriate for an ordnance world. His photoreceptors picked up next to nothing. No life-forms. Even the X'ting, natives of this world, had left this facility behind for other ones. But they didn't take all the production equipment. There was always junk. Spare junk. Still, he'd left Natsumi outside. She was okay in the wild, that was where she'd been found after all.



He smiled. Perhaps if he could see Natsumi as a friend, despite the lack of intellectual equity, than the same good be said for others. Perhaps, this place could become more than a cradle, it could become a center of learning....He smirked at the implication, as he checked his imaging against the blueprints for the building he'd found on the holonet. Power would be downstairs, below that was the main metal processing site. Right now, he was in the housing and administration area. He would need a few days to explore to ensure the lack of inhabitants. He would lay claim to this land, the first of many temples for the Way of Transcendence. It would all begin here.

 

[Neivon]

What would Six-Eyes want with information on droid production? Neivon assumed his employer was going to actually improve on that Z-58 series heap of junk he had. Of course the Bounty Hunter, or errand boy more or less, never had the guts to say that in front of the Nautolan. Neivon never knew anyone could have such a scary face. It seemed awfully convientent Six-Eyes wanted him to visit Ord Cestus for this. Roughly after the fall of the Techno Union. Neivon shifted his weight. He didn't know what there might be to expect in an abandon manufactoring facility. Could there be Robo-Rancors? He hoped that wasn't the case. The natural ones were scary enough for him.

He noticed a Tybis in what appeared to be regal armoring. Was someone here? Neivon could only hope they were friendly. He grabbed some of his hovercams from his pack, directing them into the facility. The bounty hunter was going to have to take a stealthy approach. The trip here by shuttle was trouble enough, he could only hope whoever was here was in fact, friendly. The bounty hunter skidded around the large complex. He was going to need to find an alternative way in, get a good view of whatever might be going on in their. He doubted it was a smuggler or a looter, they wouldn't ride a Tybis or keep it in such good shape for that manner. Neivon at least hoped they weren't a smuggler or looter.

He rocketed up towards an opening in the facility, planning to land as he misjudged the distance of a platform and the long fall beneath. He wished he had something better than glasses. But he needed to save his money. Six-Eyes already spent a great deal of his pay on phrik for his lightsaber pike and he needed to eat. He felt his stomach grumble just thinking of food, landing clumsily into a pile of molds upstairs. Neivon doubted he was quiet enough, feeling that even the deaf could've heard his fall. Everything was just going so great for him today, wasn't it?

[member="50H31"]

 

[50H31]

(OOC: coulda swore I replied to this. Weird.)


The robot monk softly padded about the base, inventorying various pieces of equipment and gear. Weapons here, tools there, but quite a large amount of it scuttled. Quite a lot of cargo haulers and repulsor-lift engines, though. That could all be put to great use. Power systems were depleted, but relatively fixable, if he could find a ship with a large enough reactor to "jump" the hypermatter reactor. Then again, he could build a relay with sufficient technology.



He was about to begin devising a method of repurposing the repulsor lifts into particle acceleration modules when he heard a sound not entirely unlike a suit of armor falling down a flight of stairs. He turned slightly, heading towards the source of the noise, below the catwalk he was currently on. A pile of molds for basic chassis design had fallen over. It hadn't been Natsumi, she was outside eating grass. Maybe a wild beast? Or a drunken squatter? He checked his side arm, but did put the small blaster pistol in his hands. He called down, rather politely, "Are you alright? That was quite a crash. I have a few medical supplies, but not many. Do you require assistance?"


The monk looked down at the pile of molds, waiting for a response. Hopefully, it was a person, and not some sort of odd cat or strange clumsy fungus that walked around and fell into things. Although, that would be interesting, he supposed. What kind of fungus would evolve to get mobility, but not enough to avoid collisions? Then again, it could be a droid. Well, that would be better for the person below, as Five-oh definitely had more equipment to help droids on hand than he did medical gear.


[member="Neivon"]

 

[Neivon]

Neivon grunted painfully as he slowly moved out of the pile of molds. Why did they have to be so dang hard. Sure it made sense for putting molten metals and the such but Neivon didn't care. He just didn't want an inconvenience. His eyesight was still hazy, forcing him to take off his helmet and put his glasses in their proper position. As his eyesight cleared, he noticed a metallic being. Who most likely saw his face. The obvious way to respond for such a seasoned hunter as himself was to simply freak out. Neivon fell back into the pile of molds in alarm, trying to quickly put his helmet back on as he squirmed around the hard objects. As he finally got it on, he tried restlessly to stand up, seemed his legs tired. Giving up, Neivon simply tried to keep himself above the molds.

"You uh... you didn't see anything," Neivon was trying to convince himself that more than this droid. What was a droid doing here anyways? Wouldn't the majority of droids here have already been dismantled or sent off to some other planet? Neivon sighed. "Could you... could you just delete every relocation you had of my face, please?" Neivon still hadn't planned yet for the public to know his face, at least, not until he joined the bounty hunter guild. He also wasn't sure of this droid intelligence, but the fact they observed him this entire showed him otherwise. He hoped he could come to some resolution together. At least Neivon didn't have anything too seriously injured. His beskar'gam made sure of that.

[member="50H31"]

 

[50H31]

The Metallic Monk chuckled as he watched the man emerge from a pile of molds and struggle to come up. He watched the man address him with about as much grace as his landing. A man in glasses. Hmm, not many Mandalorians with poor vision. Still, he reached for his glasses before his gun, so this wasn't a raid. he was debating the correct course of action. The man didn't want a fight, he did want soemthign though. He had to keep an eye on this anonymous interloper. But, he definitely didn't want to go to blows with him. Even if the Beskar'gam would be great raw materials for a project. But still, it would be rude to attack a guest just because he worse soemthign shiny, and Mandalorians were never worth the trouble. Well, except when they were. But he wasn't the Primeval henchman these days.



The droid considered the man's words. It was basically an order to forget everything and move on with his day. A real shame he couldn't do that. After all, if there was one thing Five loved, it was interference. He shook his head. "You're too entertaining to forget, I'm afraid. However, I can usually keep a secret," He said as one end of a cable fell towards the man, landing a foot or so away from him. "Grab on. As mush as I enjoy visitors, I doubt you came to swim in molds all day," he said, making an odd mix of whir and chuckle. "As for your face, I doubt it will be of importance. I'm the only person who pays attention to my memories these days," he said whimsically.


[member="Neivon"]

 

[Neivon]

Neivon stared at the droid. Looks like that'll make another who knew of his face. The clan he abandoned, Six-Eyes, and now this guy. With a sigh, Neivon grabbed onto the cable that was through his way, climbing up. As he stood out of the tub he made sure he had his equipment. Scanners, datapad, hovercams. It was all their. With a sigh of relief Neivon observed the droid. No obvious signs of weaponry, they were of an odd design Neivon hadn't seen from droids. Then again, Neivon was no expert on droids to begin with. He never particularly thought of getting one. Never needed one for anything. He was used to working alone. Besides, he wasn't into diplomacy or had a ship that needed maintenance otherwise.

Taking out a hovercam, Neivon activated it, allowing it to fly around the factory in hopes the location where the information on droid production was in hear somewhere. He was getting sick of secret facilities. "So," Neivon spoke as he looked at the holofeed of his cam as if moved around the factory. "What exactly is a droid like you doing here?"

[member="50H31"]

 

[50H31]

He watched as the man set a camera remote on the loose. Oh, well, it wouldn't matter much anyway. Frankly, it might help him find things faster, if he could convince the strange man to cooperate. He considered the question absentmindedly. His purpose for being here. Well, it was to claim the facility for his own. And then what? Build a lair, he supposed. He turned to the man. "The short answer is that I'm...oh, what's that word...homesteading? Settling? Soemthing to that effect," he mused out loud to the armored figure.


He then chuckled. "I suppose it's a homecoming as well. You see, I was built here. But, frankly, I am now without owner or commander, so, after some roaming I thought it'd be wise to establish a bit of a permanent home for myself. And wouldn't you know it, around the time I thought it'd be wise to get my hands on some real estate, Hegemonic Automaton--the company that owned this building, among others--announces that its ceasing production. I figure if the galaxy is gonna throw a good thing in my lap, I might as well put it to good use," he watch the man carefully. "So what are you surveying for? I take it you're here to salvage something?" He inquired. Perhaps they could come to an arrangement of sorts.




[member="Neivon"]

 

[Neivon]

Neivon didn't bother to look at the droid as he continued to pay attention to the information he was recieving from his hovercams. "Salvage? Yes." Neivon watched as the droid came to a bunch of cameras. Bingo. "But is it materialistic? No." Neivon still wasn't sure to make out with this droid. Should he trust them? Should he inform what he was doing here in detail to them? Or should he manipulate them? Neivon didn't feel as if he should take chances. There are droids out there that can read hormone levels, detect heartbeats. It was hard to lie to a droid.

[member="50H31"]

 

[50H31]

Five-oh simply shrugged as the man was obviously paying attention to something else. He nodded. "Ahh. So you're after Software instead of equipment. Good. That means we're not competing for resources, which makes my day easier," he said softly, musing his thoughts out loud. "Frankly, I didn't want to have to fight anyone today if it could be helped," he then cocked his head to the side.



"So, what kind of software are you hunting for? I should be able to activate most of the data reserves in the building from the main terminal," he said, trying to be helpful. After all, a new friend couldn't hurt. Well, it could, but still--he'd need allies in the future and present tense to make his plans to come to fruition. And this man was ambitious, and likely the type who could take commission to get some work done. Both were beneficial in the long run..


[member="Neivon"]

 

[Neivon]

Neivon eyed the droid suspiciously, even though he knew the droid couldn't see his face beneath his helmet. One wouldn't simply help another so easy. Neivon assumed the droid had ambitions of his own. It also meant the droid had most likely been on it's own for quite some time. Unless some idiot scientists thought it was a good idea to make a droid straight-out super-sentient. Even so, Neivon was glad he could be able to make his job easier.

"I'm after production history, information on production, and any spare holotapes around videoing the production process," Neivon said. It wasn't really of importance now if the droid seemed so casual in helping. Perhaps they were here for something else. Neivon wasn't much of a slicer to begin with, he wasn't skilled in the like and was glad Six-Eyes didn't try to 'train' him in that field.

[member="50H31"]

 

[50H31]

The monk droid adjusted the sleeves on is robe as the man went on. Frankly, cooperating with him would be easy enough. After all, the digital components could be copied. He'd need his own notes as well, given his intent for the place. Still, two good minds on one project was always a plus. "Well, it's definitely possible to access whatever's intact, and make some copies onto whatever you've brought with you. Still, the data will likely be fragments at best. I hope your employer won't be disappointed, but this facility has been down for a while. Besides, I'd love to see if they've got any R&D notes on me lying around," he wave a hand cheerfully as if swatting soemthign only he could see.



The truth was, the one thing most droids were specifically designed not to think about was their own nature. After all, a droid that questioned its purpose was not a droid that would always follow orders. But then again, Five-oh was damaged in that regard. He could question. He could look into his programming, and figure out how to re-write it, and possibly even build other droids. Heaven had made a new plan for the mad mechanized monk. Who was he to question the universe when it seemed ready for a new evolution, a new change? Then again, maybe the past could be used to rewrite the present. He pensively considered the issue while musing out loud. "It should be entirely possible to copy some software. However, in exchange, I would like you to inform whomever sent you here that this place is now...well, mine," he began simply. "You will get what you need here as a show of hospitality. Then you will tell your employer that this is my home now, and guest are expected to behave accordingly," the droid said. "Also, relax your posture. If I had a desire to fight you, I would've attacked when you were still half buried in molds," he said, attempting to be reassuring, in an odd sort of way. "I can assure you, whatever ill fate you believe you should have, I'm not the one to provide it," he said, hoping he'd convince the man. After all, it wouldn't do to shoot the messenger.


[member="Neivon"]

 

[Neivon]

"That's reassuring," Neivon said, relaxing his shoulders. He had his fair share of wars. More recently, the raid on Sekalus. Sure, he spent most of his time blowing up the refineries and mines (And how little that good did in the end), but at any moment getting out of there, he could've been greeted the warm welcome of blaster bolts getting fired into him. But he didn't, this kind of job always had it's risks. Who knew who or what you might find around? It just so happens his random luck was greeted with a droid who didn't greet him with a blaster rifle and instructions to kill. "My instructions had only been to retrieve information on production. So whatever you have in mind, go ahead, besides." Neivon sat on one of the conveyor belts. "My employer never mentions the same place twice," Neivon paused for a second. "Unless of course, something that could threaten us shows up. So there's no need to worry about second visits by the curtesy of my employer, I'd probably visit though whenever I had free time."

Neivon hopped up from where he sat, staring intently into the droid's eyes. "So what exactly are you doing here?"

[member="50H31"]

 

[50H31]

The droid nodded. "Well, that's a refreshing change of pace. A friendly resolution," he said with a slight chuckle. Honestly, it was nice to not have to resort to violence, even if he was good at it. It was somewhat reassuring to know that despite being designed to solve problems with tactical force and a knowledge of all things war, he could still resort to diplomacy when he wished to. After all, what was transcendence if not finding a purpose which was never intended? Not rebellion, but...change. What was it that monster Zambrano had said....Evolve or die. Well, he had made his choice, he supposed. "You'd be welcome to visit, however, it may be a bit busier next time, depending on what occurs. In fact, your employer may wish to do business of the non-threatening kind here. After all, even the toughest and most resourceful must occasionally buy supplies."




He chuckled. "Well, I don't think I'm aiming to be a threat, but it's likely I'll be perceived as such. Change is always worrisome to some, after all," he said, shrugging as he gestured for the armored man to follow his as he walked down a large catwalk. "As to my true purpose, well, as I said, I intend to make this place a home, not only for myself, but for other droids in similar circumstances. I suppose you could call this a refuge of the broken, a place for junk and strangeness. If Heaven permits it, then perhaps old souls like mine will find peace here, and I will build something grand," he said, waving his arms a bit dramatically. "But first, let's get to the terminal, shall we?"



[member="Neivon"]

 

[Neivon]

Neivon shrugged. "Sure," The bounty hunter followed the droid to the terminal. This perhaps had to be his easiest job. He wouldn't even had to cipher the data himself this time! As odd jobs go, this is certainly one he could simply lay back and watch. Shame him falling into a tub of molds didn't make it all too pleasant. At least his blood lust hadn't perked. And why should it? He was't weakened, there was no force sensitives within miles of this place. That made it all the better.

((OCC: Sorry for late reply))

[member="50H31"]

 

[50H31]

(OOC: No worries, work's been busy on my end, sorry for the delay)


The robot continued on, scribbling something on a datapad. New designs, really. Not only for the building, but for more droids. "Well, I'm hopeful your employer continues his research into droid consciousness. Frankly, as egotistical as it sounds," he continued cheerily, "I find our minds to be a fascinating thing," he chuckled a little. "After all, even though our origins are synthetic, our thoughts are our own, in a sense," he said as we walked over, tapping in a few commands at a door as it opened. "Oh, good. Those security codes weren't inaccurate. That's reassuring," he mused, wishing he could smirk. "Alright, the data terminal should be down this way," he gestured forward with a wave, marching at a steady rhythm, his sandals padding along firmly.



[member="Neivon"]

 

[Neivon]

Neivon looked towards the now open door. He watched the droid move through it, the bounty hunter shortly followed. The room was the typical technical facility one would find in a factory. The data terminal stood there. Neivon still had his eyes on the droid as they moved inside. He seemed rather lax, but how could one tell from a droid in the first place? They weren't designed for emotions and one can only tell when they spoke or moved. An advantage and disadvantage at best. Neivon called Six-Eyes from his helmet's private signal.

"The terminal has been located," Neivon reported. Scanning the terminal.

"Alright, decoding the information," The Nautolan said. There was a pause as the bounty hunter heard nothing but the clicking of a holocomputer. "Information recieved. Well, your work there is done Neivon."

"One more thing. Could you send a second copy onto my datapad?"

There was silence, Neivon heard the beep from one of his datapad. He pulled it out, all the information was truly there. "Thanks -" The Nautolan had already disconnected. Neivon sighed, he held out the datapad for the droid. "Here's the slice information on production, I'm sure there's more information there, but I doubt my employer would be of any help..."

[member="50H31"]