Private In the depths of the night

[John Locke]

No matter where you went, what city or planet, what spaceport or stations you found yourself on there was one thing that was always a certainty. Corruption and grift were a constant companion to all civilization, to any time that people were grouped together in anything larger than a family. Someone would try to play the system, to find a way to push themselves forward and find some benefit for themselves. And where one existed more than one would crawl out from under the rocks, gathering together into little groups, groups flowing together, dancing around one another in an unending dance in the dark. Yet, it was only in the dark that they could come out and be themselves, the dark of the night, of cities given over to vice. And in the dark of space.

Out here in the furthest reaches of the galaxy, away from the light of a sun with only the silvery light of stars to plumb the inky darkness of space they came out to play. An old abandoned space station had become home, a port in the dark where anyone was welcome, where anything could be brought. All the promises of Nar Shardaa without the scrutiny that the galaxy levelled on the moon, the control brought by the Hutts. The kind of place where you could come to disappear, where no one paid too much attention to the person right in front of them.

John might actually have actually enjoyed himself if it wasn’t for the blatant malfeasance that was on show on every corner. As it was he ducked his head under the popped-up collar of his coat, hands sunk into his pockets as dark eyes flicked around the street. This was the last place anyone would have expected to find a titan of industry, especially someone like him. John knew that he wasn’t much of a fighter, he’d always relied on others for that but there were some jobs that were just too sensitive, too unusual.

This station drifting in the dark wasn’t the product of human hands, of Twi’lek or Wookie creation, no it was something far older. Patched together by generations of engineers, keeping the air recycling and power running to the civilization they’d managed to eke out in the wilderness, such as it was. But the station was capable of more, so much more, a prize beyond measure in the right hands. He just had to discover the keys to opening it, to unlocking the secrets buried in the depths of the station.

Sylas Taff

 

[Sylas Taff]

Sylas was sitting in a small office on Noverskaa. He was looking over all the numbers and the like from the companies he was now in charge of. It was very odd to be left with such large companies especially since in the interim it appeared that through AI and an unknown benefactor they had managed to effectively run themselves. It seemed to have worked well.

As such he was musing over perhaps creating some sort of board for the companies to oversee them, especially given his lack of experience when a call came through to the comms on his desk. He looked over at it, slightly puzzled as to who would make a call to him. There were a few people he could think of, but most of them were missing or were no longer speaking with him.

So he took a chance that it was important and turns out it was extremely important. So now here he was on this derelict of a station, filled with so much crime and trouble it made Nar Shaddaa look like a kindergarten by comparison. He stood in a darkened corner with some dark green clothes on, standing still watching people go by until he saw the man who had contacted him. As such he peeled out of the shadows walking to keep speed with the man, keeping his jacket’s collar up as well to match his fellow.

He didn’t speak first, as this wasn’t his show so to speak. After all the man called him in and as such that made him the leader. He hadn’t caught his name yet but given the fact that he had a personal line to sylas’ communications he was more than curious about what was going on. So he followed waiting for his orders and hopefully more of an explanation beyond the coordinates of this place.

John Locke

 

[John Locke]

It never seemed to rain on the station, the atmosphere held together by the rickety climate control systems someone had jury-rigged to manage the station. Or at least not a proper rain, the sprinkle of oil, of coolant and waste as sections of the system fell into disrepair. A general clamminess in the air that seemed to cling to the skin like some sort of oil slick that you felt you'd never entirely be rid of. It wasn't a surprise that turned-up coats and cloaks were a common sight on the streets, many inhabitants seeking to eke out the limited protections that they afforded them.

The two men with their coats and bowed heads really didn't seem to be that out of place in the crowd, the citizens who hurried about the station on their own business. The ship's crews stood out, dressed to impress, uncaring of the moisture in the air, of the workers hurrying around them. After all, they were only there for a short stop, a few days at most before they wung their way back into the void. A time to spend their money, meet friends and rivals and live before they threw themselves into the cauldron of fire, dragging countless innocents with them to pave their way. Pirates, mercenaries and worse, the station welcomed them all as long as there was going to spare.

The older man's dark eyes flicked around the station before he nodded at an alley, a slim path behind two buildings that lead to a door, deeper into the station's interior. It was as safe as they could be in this place where the law was only a loose construct often coming down to nothing more than a smoking blaster in the hand.

"I'm glad you made it, I wasn't sure the line was still good."

John had worked with Sylas' family before, though the young man himself was an unknown to him. Still, he wouldn't have been left in charge of the company if he wasn't capable and if his predecessors didn't trust him. Or at least that was the hope.

"I appreciate you coming all the way out here without really knowing what's going on, I could only say so much over the holonet, it's not exactly the most secure setup out here. I'm pretty sure that someone's listening to most communications, a chance to blackmail someone, or sneak another vessel's prize. Who could turn that down?"

A small smile, an outstretched hand.

"I'm, John, I worked with your dad."

Sylas Taff

 

[Sylas Taff]

Sylas followed the gentleman along, still unsure what to make of this man. But from the looks of him, he had some form of cybernetics. Sylas had never seen this much cybernetics go into one person. Almost looked like the guy was half droid for all he knew. He still couldn't get out of his head that, this man, whoever he was knew his family somewhat closely at least to have a private channel directly to his office. Well his dad's office anyways.

His fathers, he hadn't seen them in a long time. But he was sure they were still fine, wherever they were. Getting pulled back out of his thoughts as they crossed into the threshold of a door down an alley way. He finally heard the man speak. He looked at him as he was talking about the line not being good anymore. Once again his thoughts tried to dwell on his family, but he pushed them aside. There was business he was needed for in the moment.

He listened to the man's next line. So he placed the call from here. He must have been here for a while doing something, scouting the place out maybe. But then again what for, this place was so dingey and while he was aware of the companies more shady side deals, this didn't fit any of those. They always used voice changers and never showed themselves on holos. This voice was definitely the one he had heard before on the holo, then he said his name John.

That was a name that took him back to the first day, he showed up at Mirdirmorut headquarters. Dishevelled and looking dirty, he had still somehow been recognised by the AI Genesis. Possibly because it had access to all employee records, including family history and next of kin, maybe because he had met it once before a long time ago. Who knows, as despite it's sassy nature it did look after him, making him head of the company and opening up all documents his dad Tom Taff had left behind.

One in particular was this man, "Yes I never met you, dad wanted me to train with the silver jedi and when I was a knight among their number, then he would introduce me to the company. But we never made it that far, something happened." As his eyes glaze over for a second before snapping back into focus. "He always looked up to you and your company. Said he came up with some of his best tech working with you. Or at least that's what his notes said."

Sylas thought then for a short time before realising his mistake. "Sorry I never gave you my name, I am Sylas Taff. Tom's adopted son. While I don't have the depth of knowledge of my father yet, I hope to still be useful." As he put out his hand to shake the outstretched one.

John Locke

 

[John Locke]

A small smile touched John's face, his head inclining to the side for a moment.

"I made some of my best inventions when I was competing with your father, it was that rivalry, that back and forth that always pushed me on to a higher level. Those were some great days."

A small shrug of his shoulders, a wry look on the dark-haired man's face as he turned to press his bak against a wall.

"It's kinda nostalgic thinking back to it, We had some wild adventures in those days, long nights talking about what we'd do in the future. I guess the future never really worked out how we thought it would. Your fathers have vanished off the face of the earth, and I'm here hiding on some old decrepit station in the middle of nowhere."

It certainly wasn't where John expected to be spending his time, where anyone would have thought to find him, maybe the society galas, or a seedy bar on Corellia was more along the lines of where someone would think to find the man. It was where many of his contemporaries could be found when not in the offices that seemed to consume the vast majority of their lives. An intergalactic company was like a beast on your back that could never be sated, was constantly hungry, demanding time and energy. It was why so many of his peers had been driven to drink, driven to seek out other vices but they could never escape from the burden. At the best they would take a holiday to some tropical paradise for a week or two, and this station was hardly that.

"Sometimes a pair of fresh eyes is worth more than a countless number of experienced ones. Your father and I both see things through the lens of our experience, through our bias. I see any problem and I think that it's an engineering problem, that I'm the only one who could possibly fix it, but you know, I'm really not the smartest man in the universe. UP there sure, but not the smartest, you could see something that I completely missed, come up with something I would never have thought of."

A hand came up, knuckles tapping against the metal panel at his back, a dull thud that seemed to reverberate around the room for a moment before fading away into the silence.

"This old station isn't quite what it look like, what it seems. I'd heard rumours about it, but it took me a while to track it down, to figure out just what it was. So, let me tell you a story about a species that once lived out here long before we came along. They didn't have access to hyperspace technology, but they did have something else, technology that we could only dream of, ways of manipulating the world around us that we've lost. They faded away eventually, falling from their heights to mere shadows of themselves. Only, some of their wonders still exist, a treasure-trove of technology just waiting for someone to unravel them."

A knock against the floor and a mischievous grin touched the man's face.

"That's what we're here for, these pirates don't know what kind of treasure trove they're sitting on. We're here to kick them out and take control. I think that's something that even your dads would have been proud of, and something no-one else in the galaxy has ever managed to pull off. So...ldo you wanna unravel the secrets of the past with me?"

Tom had been one of John's closest confidants, a man who had always been there for him no matter what else was going on in the galaxy. But, something had happened, the man had just disappeared off the face of the known map. John had sent out some feelers, trying to locate him but, if the man wanted to be found, he'd reach out, if he didn't the dark-haired cyborg wasn't going to force him into the light. It was rare for someone in their business to find a measure of peace and quiet, of silence. John knew his dream of a little mechanics shop was only that, a dream. If his friend had found it for himself, then John was only going to be glad for him.

Sylas Taff

 

[Sylas Taff]

Sylas watched a smile cross the man, no John’s features on the mention of his father Tom. Likely reminiscing on a part of both their lives now long gone. Listening to John, he felt a tinge of pride that his father and John had been rivals and friends of a sort, pushing each other to do bigger and better projects.

He continued standing looking and listening to John. Talk about the nostalgia of it all and the future not working how either thought it would. “Yyyes” Sylas studded thinking about the missing parts of his memory. “It's unfortunate that all members of my family have disappeared. Or at least that’s what I’ve been told by everyone I ask. Although I dunno, I feel a nagging feeling that there’s someone left that no one knows of.” He frowns on speaking this.

He had tried his best to use his psychometry on a few objects that were made just before his family had gone missing. He had even tried it on his grandfather’s armors to see if he could find anything but there always seemed to be a lapse during a part of the history. Something clouding the event, hiding it from him. He tried thinking more on it before it was all suddenly discarded and instead his mind latched onto the here and now suddenly.

“Fresh pair of eyes? Yes I suppose I am in this place aren’t I?” He said feeling very off balance for a second. He could have sworn he was dwelling on something but it clearly wasn’t important to the now. He watched as John tapped the wall, hearing the thud reverberate around the room. He looked around pinpointing exactly what he had heard. It sounded almost hollow. Which wouldn’t make sense on a ship or a space station, everything should be packed, with little unused space. “A species that lived out here? What was the name of the species then? Or has it been lost to time?” He said his curiosity peaked at this point.

Now he wanted to know more about this missing species, about this technology they had access to that the galaxy at large didn’t. A matching mischievous grin alighted on sylas’ face thinking about it. “I am always up for kicking pirates out of where they don’t belong. Have been even before I joined the Silvers way back when. I am so ready to unpack this place and learn its secrets.” Sylas replied before touching a wall gently closing his eyes tapping into the presences left within the wall.

“I thought so.” He exclaimed excitedly as his eyes snapped open, touching a part of the wall which looked like all the rest of the wall. Well that was until he applied the right amount of pressure and it sank down into the wall. As he did so, part of the wall slid aside whisper quiet, showing a maintenance tunnel looking area. “When you tapped the wall, part of it sounded hollow. Had to be sure using some psychometry but my dad used to have tunnels like this all over the house and even Mirdirmourt HQ. Got to be able to check on everything personally, he always said.” Sylas said pride filling his words, remembering all the times he had used the tunnels himself to watch his dad, when he should have been sleeping.

John Locke

 

[John Locke]

"Oh no, they've not exactly been lost to time...more perhaps to...legend. Some species drift off into the void, only known of by what they left behind while others fade, fall from the heights they once realised. In a millennium, in 10, I wonder if anyone will still know who we were, what we struggled for, or, will we have vacated the galactic stage for some other species to step into the spotlight, to fight the same battles again and again. To dance the dance of history, rediscover the technologies we'd made and marvel at a species that could have been so advanced."
There was an almost reverential tone to John's voice as he reached out a hand, running it along the wall, fingers tracing out the whorls and pits in the wall. The marks of use that were accumulated over time, that were left behind when you didn't have a proper engineering team running things. The station was held together with hope and tape, thanks to the engineering of its manufacturers and the desperate attempts of some engineer in days past. But...there was life pulsing beneath the walls, currents crossing back and forth, as if the station was a sleeping titan waiting for the right time to awaken and take its place soaring across the stars.

"You might have heard of the Gree before, I had but I always thought they were just myths, a story told at universities and by spacers at bars. But to see it in the flesh, to peer under the hood? It was...it was."

A soft sigh as John leaned his back against the wall, staring up at the ceiling for a moment.

"I'm one of the best engineers in the galaxy, I've created technology that few would have comprehended or even considered but some of the technology that I've seen here was enough to blow my mind. To leave me reeling with possibilities of what might be possible, and that was the merest peek before I had to move on before the pirates saw me and got suspicious. If we had the time to really get into the guts of this place, imagine what we could do. BUt...to think it's being used as a hovel like this..."

A sigh, a wry smile as he pulled away from the wall.

"That's why I reached out to your father, though it seems you're cut of the same stuff. I am sorry to hear that they've vanished...if there's anything I can do to help find them, you only need to ask."

There was no hiding the surprise that plastered themselves across John's face as Sylas opened up the tunnel in the wall, a genuine smile blossoming on his face. "So many hours spent in here and I had no idea this was hiding away behind the walls." The man's eyes glowed turquoise, the soft light shining down the hall as the shape slowly took shape before him. "Shall we see what's down the rabbithole?"

Sylas Taff

 

[Sylas Taff]

Sylas listened to John, the makers of this space station had been lost to legends. Species drifting off into the void, only known by what was left behind. Fallen from the heights they once realised, from the technology they had created, lost all knowledge they had once gained. His father had once told him of the Rakatan Empire, a race of people who had imubed all of their technology with the force and in particular the dark side only to fall back to the wayside of history after a time.

Then again with the Je'daii, people who tried to keep a balance within the force only to fall to infighting due to words not said, things being missed. The again with the force enchantments of those ancient sith and jedi, all those techniques being lost to time again having to be refound and rediscovered. He always spoke about such things with awe but also sadness, that such mysteries had to be rediscovered, that such techniques would be just lost to time.

The Gree had been a passing story he had heard at the docks by spacers and that. Tom had always taken him and he had listened patiently but he had never given the same amount of credence his father had. "Yes I have, my dad took me too listen to any and every legend, story or fable of history they had. He recorded most of it giving it all some level of credence. Always wanted to be a historian but he was born with the force and adopted by my grandfather. He never full held with the jedi, always said trying to be the middle was better, easier to learn everything and record it."

Sylas nodding his head in agreement, "You know its funny, even my father would agree to that. You do magic with tech, he couldn't ever completely get a hold of. He always tried his hardest to keep up with you he said. But he always felt like he was lagging behind. One thing he did leave me with at the very least was a large repository of recorded knowledge on every subject possible, even holocrons recovered from the mandalorians after they stole them."

His face shifted slightly into a twisted vision of hatred and anger. "To think that anyone would turn something this majestic, something that he would have loved to explore and learn more about into a hovel and not even try to fix it. Well that pisses me off immensely." Sylas nodded "Its time, down the rabbithole, lets find a way to retake this place and make it something to be proud of."

Tag: John Locke

 

[John Locke]

"There's a lot of truth in legends and the stories you can hear on the docks, people might not be able to explain the phenomenon they see but that just means they look for other explanations. If you can't explain it, you create something mythical and special. Glowing lights in space become the spirits of ancient space farers lost in the sea of stars trying to reach out, it's poetic in its way when in reality it's just distortions caused by a black hole or a nebula. But, they might not see it, and they certainly don't know the potential for discovery or industry that lies behind their stories. That collection of your father, in between all the fanciful tales and myths he gathered might be the path to a new discovery or invention that could reshape the galaxy as we know it. How else do you think I managed to find this place?"

A hand reached out to tap against the wall in an almost fond movement, it wasn't often John allowed himself to be pulled out of the office on a mission. Sure, for business and social reasons, but to explore or chase down a mystery, not so much. He had people he hired to take care of that, or at least he did usually, but a discovery on this scale was an entirely different kettle of fish. This was something that he needed to see for himself, to prove to himself that it was real and that he could still do this.

Fingers tapped out a pattern against the side of the wall for a moment as he let a small smile turn up the corner of his lips.

"I didn't realise your father had thought like that. The middle path is certainly the hardest to walk, especially if you want to do it while developing a business and keeping your morals. I'm afraid that's something that I've...not always managed to do properly. THere are times where...you're faced with a decision on what to do, and no easy path. Do you produce weapons, do you sell them to anyone with money? Can you afford not to? You have shareholders, employees and competitors. If you stand still, don't push for growth then you're going to fall behind, but if you do then you're forced to grow despite everything which can leave you in...a sticky situation or two. I've chosen to grow more times than not, and I'm sure in the grand scheme of things I have more blood on my hands than most SIth or Jedi do. I think maybe your father might have had a better attitude towards his business."

A hand gestured towards the tunnel the young man had opened up, the dark-haired man's head inclining to gesture to him that he should go first.

"Well, for your father's sake then. Let's turn this into a place he would be proud of."

Sylas Taff

 

[Sylas Taff]

Sylas nodded stepping through the hole he had found, the old workman's tunnel that would likely run to the centre of this station. Sylas kept going hand running along the pipes, allowing for the force to talk to him about how people used to live here and how great a place this once was. "Yes I expected you to respond like that, exactly like dad would if he was still around showing me an ancient ruin. Or hell even the waterfall of peace." He smiled at that thought, it was one of the few places left on Noverskaa that had touches of his family he could still feel. He still wasn't sure of exactly what the attachment was, something about flow walking if he recalled right. Some ancient force power thought lost or something. Then his grandfather had done something apparently. He didn't fully understand it yet. But he was starting to think after this adventure perhaps he should become certain, after all Genesis had mentioned something about a family vault hidden away on Noverskaa filled with goods.

Sylas nodded as john mentioned that the middle path was hard to walk. "Yeah, but I tried walking the path of the jedi myself and it didn't stick. I was supposed to be knighted before we .... disappeared." Flashes of something covered over in mist, blades both metallic and coloured. Blasters being fired, he remembered something about the other padawans he had been friends with being present then it all shaded over again. He shook his head "Besides from some of the dealings I've found in the books Mirdirmorut seems to always try to support an Underdog, including a number of shady dealings that are ongoing I guess. Hard to tell, haven't looked that closely but dad did always try his hardest to protect Noverskaa at least, that the least I can do to continue part of his legacy I guess."

He shook his head stopping and turning to face the man quickly to look him in the eyes. "No, the blood is not on your hands or those of my father or any other maker of weapons. In a galaxy in a perpetual state of war, I am sure more people would have died from not having those weapons, droids or armour than those that have been killed by them and besides while you are a mega corporation, you aren't a galactic power pushing for the war. No from what I've seen even the Jedi can become so soaked in blood that their blades look redder than the sith's. Your weapons have been instrumental in protecting people as much as killing them. Or at least thats the way I'm trying to look at it, otherwise we would all be desponded messes and we don't need that right now. Besides my father wasn't a saint, no one is. I just loved him, and I miss him." Sylas said tears rolling down his cheeks as he turned back continuing forward. "But we should focus on the work at hand before we become to distracted, we should arrive at the core soonish."

John Locke

 

[John Locke]

"From the mouths of the young."

John offered the younger man a small smile as he glanced down the dimly lit tunnel, eyes glowing brightly in the darkness as his vision shifted, the dimness of the tunnel slowly fading away to leave a view as bright as sunlight. He wasn't sure when he'd started to feel old, or at least older than those around him, perhaps it was the experience of seeing great powers rise and fall, of heroes who stood against chaos or embraced it. And yet the galaxy turned on and on.

"Despondent, I don't know, maybe. I've seen a few company CEOs go that way, a lot more will back out of the arms business eventually, or try to assuage their guilt by limiting who they sell to, by aligning themselves with a government that they believe in. And it works, for a while anyway. But the nation will fall, the military that stood for what you believed in, had protected the innocent will fail. It just takes one person who opens fire on civilians, one politician with an agenda and all those ideals collapse really fast. But, your employees still need to pay rent and buy food, to develop all these other technologies that can save the galaxy and make life better. I've led fleets, and sent beings to die because it needed to be done, I'm ok with a little blood on my hands if it means the galaxy ends up a better place but...I think I've lost my trust in governments to fix the problems I see for me. So, I'm gonna do it myself, and this seems a pretty good first step on that path."

A hand reached out to pat the side of the wall fondly, "Mirdirmorut's always had a soft spot for the underdog, but defining that can be difficult. Take this station, a lot of the people are here because, they're rejects and cast-offs. People who were cast off from their homes, sometimes it's their fault, sometimes it's not. Some had no choice but to turn to piracy, some do it because it lets them put food on the table. But they hurt other people. So how should we approach this? How would you deal with this threat and this station?"

Sylas Taff

 

[Sylas Taff]

Sylas continued pushing forward for a while, thinking on John's words. Considering them over and over again. Mirdirmorut did have a serious history attempting to help anyone they felt was the underdog, but the galaxy at large had always created faults in that system, which had lead to many of their equipment and weapons falling into the hands of those who should otherwise not control such assets. Still John had a point, Mirdirmorut had mouths to feed, people to look after. Perhaps it would be better to remain as independent as possible from anything. But that still created new problems such as pirates still obtaining gear that Mirdirmorut would prefer out of their hands.

Finally after some time being quiet Sylas responded, "I don't know what the best choice is here, there are a lot of people here who likely were pushed into piracy as you said because of circumstances. I am also sure there are people here because they want to be. How would one even differentiate the difference? There's no good solution ever, as much as I have wished several times through my life that such things did occur. But the hard choice and hard answer on this one is that if they are simply kicked out they will move somewhere else to be someone else's problem. If we use the systems to kill them all then we are no better than the jedi or the sith. That would be their solutions either incapacitate or kill them all."

He then thought a while long before asking, "Well what would you do Mr Locke? Either solution I have thought of have strenuous negative connotations at least to my mind. We don't have the ability or facilities to rehabilitate or capture them. We must either to my mind force them off this station so that you might claim it, or use the systems to dispense with the lot of them. As I said forcing them off moves the problem to another location and in the long run might be the worst. However killing them all creates a short term problem and a stain on both of our souls as the two men who were willing to mete out death to a stations worth of people. What choice would you make? Which is the correct choice? Easier on our conscious' or easier on the galaxy?"

John Locke