Come On, Homie, What Happened?

[Ugoto Chivaro]

[[ Only post here if/when you are tagged. ]]

To: [member="Jennifer Blanchard"]
Subject: Job Offer
Encryption: Secure
Transmission Source: Tatooine

Ms. Blanchard,

We will make this quick as to maintain your interest. An auction has taken place recently in which our client has been outbid by an opportunist. by a margin of several million credits. Due to the unscrupulous methods in which the bid was placed, our client would like to have a talk with the individual who outbid them and see if they can reach a reasonable compromise. We have tracked the servers through which the auction was hosted. The pertinent information is attached in a data file to this transmission. Also attached to this transmission is the information for a bank account containing twenty-five thousand standard galactic credits.

The remaining payments will be deposited into that account in accordance to the following steps:

• Secure all available data on those at the auction and transmit it back to us. (cr50,000)
• Erase the data completely and irretrievably from the server which it is hosted on. (cr50,000)

It is also expected of you to erase the data from your own hardware as well and refrain from distributing it. We appreciate your assistance in this matter.

Best Regards,

R̀A̕S̴S͝͡E̷͟L͢͠AŞ̨

 

[Jennifer Blanchard]

Jenn was stretching. Not like working out, oh no, this was Jennifer Blanchard after all. No, she was… napping. A bed was in her quarters in the Obsidian Citadel on …. Was he at Roon? Is that where she fell asleep? Yeah. But anyway, stretching here meant her back and arms and legs and making a small noise as she was starting to wake up. Her bed was as one might expect, messy. A lightsaber, datapad, pizza box, flashlight, other stuff. Y’know, a bed. A messy bed of a computer nerd turned Obsidian Knight. The Union paid her well, so she was quite content.

Opening her laptop and pulling the blankets back over her – who kept it this cold, really? – She was a small bit of orange hair to be found under the black sheets. Right, what was she missing in the past… ten hours? Good nap. The usual emails, and the large file. She read it as she pushed the files through two different scanners.

Really now? Huh?

An auction, huh? She could do that. Nodding, she sent back a quick ‘received, give me a few days’ and got to work. Cracking her knuckles, she actually sat up for this, the blanket draping over her body. She ran a hand over her face and shook her head. She had a few hours before she needed to be anywhere. She could work with all those addendums and started to open the data packet, getting to work.

[member="Hegemonic Automaton"]
[member="Bianca"]

 

[Hailyn]

Indeed, an auction had been held on the planet of Deneba. It was fairly normal, a handful of expensive trinkets and a couple of slaves, with the addition of a single abnormality - or at least a single noticeable abnormality - being the auctioning of a droid unit that was worth something in the ten or so million credit range.

An experimental, rather unheard of, droid at that.

Onadax Droid Technologies wasn't exactly public about their practices, though their exploits during the rise of the New Republic were publicized at one point, albeit in a manual about droid ethics and organics. Human Replica Droids, the real deal, were made not by the thousands, the millions, but by the dozen. That isn't entirely accurate, however. Many human replica droids were simply created in their containers, specially designed to mimic a human in appearance and function, but they weren't "grown" like a clone was. Not in any comparable sense.

Not until now.

Onadax had been tinkering, altering, their methods of producing these high-end droids, units like B14-NC4, and it became far too costly to make hundreds or more of the top-of-the-line, unique, bodies for each droid - they went through hundreds at a time in their testing and data drawing - so the brain became the most expensive part. A cheap, run-of-the-mill human replica shell was manufactured to house the brain that was grown, programmed, and then trained for ten thousand hours. If that unit was able to survive all of the testing and to pass all of the performance benchmarks, as well as display an uniqueness, they were sold as if they were stolen. Like B14-NC4.

Sold, to the highest bidder, in order to recoup the cost and to pay for the new, higher end, body.

Didn't raise enough? The unit didn't survive.

Most recently, on Deneba, one unit - B14-NC4 - managed to go for thirty-five million credits, enough to afford three of the ASN-series. The sudden bid was late, it was sudden, but credits were credits, and the bidder was willing to provide phrik as their form of fulfilling two favors bid. The offer was too good to pass up, really, and selling an incredibly expensive droid like the B14-NC4 unit to a competitor didn't seem quite as appealing to the crooked corporate cronies that fabricated the auction.

In fact, the auction was really just Onadax Droid Technologies utilizing an older set of human replica droid models with no actual black market middle man. The lots had been real, of course, but it was entirely ODT, it was always ODT.

A company founded so many centuries ago by one of the most advanced human replica droids to date - Guri - Onadax wasn't just some minor droid production facility. They owned the game, but kept to themselves. Now someone seemed to be trying to crack into that private time.

[member="Hegemonic Automaton"]
[member="Jennifer Blanchard"]

 

[Jennifer Blanchard]

Jenn was humming, she always typically started when she was doing something on the computer. Was she humming the song that was playing in the background? No, that song was just there to get her to focus, to get the rest of the world to disappear while she all but fell into the machines, into cyberspace, into that place where she felt at home. Some people liked being in space, Jenn preferred the environment of her room and the sound and feel of cyberspace.

She was funneling through the data, looking to see who the people were that put up the auction, some group on Deneba. Looking through the credit transfers and the back log, she was working, breaking into a firewall to see who it was, give her a name and she could try to link it to a company. Or put it through a program that would break down the company and see where they were sending money, see where the trail ended, if it ended.

And maybe once she got a name, she could find where the deliveries were going. After all, that was the point of her task, to find out where a product had gone. She didn’t care what, all that she knew was she was getting paid. Ok, so who was on Denaba, who was making purchase? Computer magic, do your thing.

[member="Bianca"]
[member="Hegemonic Automaton"]