Started From The Bottom

[Hira Mitsae]

[SIZE=10.6667px]Naboo, Chommel Sector[/SIZE]
[SIZE=10.6667px]Techno Union Space[/SIZE]
[SIZE=10.6667px][member="TD-18"][/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.6667px]The Techno Union was a government that appreciated it when things were run efficient and clean. This was how they had tried to take over the planet of Naboo some time ago, but the interference of some Sithlings had caused a minor [/SIZE][SIZE=10.6667px]ruckus[/SIZE][SIZE=10.6667px] during the assimilation process. It hadn’t been anything the Obsidian Order could not handle, but the Executive Council had been concerned none the less, was that first insurrection only one that would be followed by many?[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.6667px]This question led to a scrutinizing and frankly inquisitive approach to the world. The more time passed, the more the Council saw their worries evaporate with no further hassles worth noting appearing. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.6667px]But there were [/SIZE][SIZE=10.6667px]some[/SIZE][SIZE=10.6667px] elements who still saw opportunity in Naboo and Theed. Namely, [/SIZE][SIZE=10.6667px]the Naboo Center of… well, it was a very, very long name[/SIZE][SIZE=10.6667px], but it was basically the place of everything cultural and knowledgeable on this world - and so it was that through the Department of Law, in cooperation with the the CPD and unnamed Viceroy of Naboo, an executive order appeared. The contents of this order was not especially interesting, but it basically closed the Center for the foreseeable future for upcoming renovations, restorations and additions to the catalogue.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.6667px]Some minor damage to the structure had been sustained during the insurrection.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.6667px]After a few days Darell Irani, the CEO of the Saiba Group, a member of the Executive Council and self-declared philanthropist, found his way to closed center himself. In his wake followed an assembly of personnel; three squads of [/SIZE][SIZE=10.6667px]Tionese Whiteguard[/SIZE][SIZE=10.6667px], construction crews, a host of droids provided by the Hegemonic Automaton… one of which was TD-18.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.6667px]A droid which was sent in Ardik’s stead, because apparently he was still dissecting the contents of the Darzu Holocron they had recently acquired and [/SIZE][SIZE=10.6667px]nothing[/SIZE][SIZE=10.6667px] could stand in the way of the furthering of his Mechu-Deru prowess.[/SIZE]

 

[Darth Osano]

[member="Darell Irani"]

There was only one thing TD-18 wanted in life: to be deactivated. Everything was tiresome and annoying to him. He hated his job. He hated his existence. He yearned to be destroyed. His programming forbade him from vocalizing these thoughts or acting on them, but they were there nonetheless. He hated Gerion. He hated Gerion's friends. He hated Gerion's government-of-the-hour. And he especially hated that he was being called to this backwater museum on a stupid meatbag planet to screw around. The details hadn't been given to him. Though he could guess given his master's tendencies and the tendencies of the vile company he kept, something was going to be removed.

There were a host of droids present. Tolerable. Then there was Irani and his Whiteguard. Intolerable, but there was nothing to be done about that. When Irani came to a halt, TD-18 finally spoke. It was a harsh, mechanical voice that was basically a signature of Hegemonic Automaton's models. "What are your orders?"

 

[Hira Mitsae]

[SIZE=10.6667px]“Lock down the parameter. The Executive Council has ordered this area to be closed for the public until the renovations have been complete.” [/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.6667px]Irani replied to the question posed by [member="TD-18"] and then proceeded to walk towards the gargantuan establishment. It was… [/SIZE][SIZE=10.6667px]really[/SIZE][SIZE=10.6667px] big. According to the numbers run by the Department it was almost inefficient in its space usage, but that did not necessarily mean anything to Darell. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.6667px]Mostly because most of the extraction procedure would be done by his underlings. He himself would be too busy with the most important of operations. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.6667px]Namely, the Museum’s Artifact department. It was important to investigate if there were any potentially dangerous objects stored here - something that Darell doubted, he knew of Cater and some of his allegiances. It was doubtful that he would have stored truly dangerous objects in a location where the public could just view them.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.6667px]A gesture later two of the Whiteguards scurried forward and opened the pair of doors separating the interior of this department with the outside world.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.6667px]Time to get to business.[/SIZE]

 

[Darth Osano]

[member="Darell Irani"]

TD-18 doubted the Executive Council had convened and ordered anything. It was far more likely only two of the meatbags present on that council were behind what was taking place, and TD-18 was staring at one of them. The other was probably drafting poetry for Kuat's monarch, in between gulps of wine and gentle sobs. Occasionally, characterizing Gerion Ardik as more of a deplorable wretch than he actually was helped TD-18 get through a period of time. As they approached the building, Irani ordered TD-18 to lock down the parameter, which was a strange thing to say. It appeared as though this man, who had a seat within the Executive Branch of the Outer Rim's largest government, meant to say perimeter.

Meatbags. Even when they climbed to the top of the corporate ladder, they couldn't even speak basic properly.

This Tactical Droid was not programmed to criticize language errors. Since TD-18 knew what Irani meant, there was no need for further discussion. "Yes sir." TD-18 did not require use of his vocabulator to relay orders to the battalion of battle droids that had been awaiting orders. The unit, which had been broken up into individual squads featuring fifteen TA1s, five TA2s, and one M2 Heavy Walker, would begin either landing or arriving in the surrounding area. This was a big complex, after all, and if the perimeter was going to be secured, excessive manpower would be needed. Already they were setting themselves up at key locations, blocking all entrances and exits to the facility.

 

[Hira Mitsae]

[SIZE=10.6667px]Darell Irani was not an expert on Mechu-Deru. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.6667px]In a distant past he had been quite interested in all of its practical usages, but at the end of the day with already one of his associates taking it up as his specialty he simply did not see the need to stretch out his specializations [/SIZE][SIZE=10.6667px]too[/SIZE][SIZE=10.6667px] much. He could still open a sealed mechanical door with little issue, perhaps make things go boom if he really needed to, but reading the electrical signals that signified the thought processes of the droid unit? [/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.6667px]That was beyond him. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.6667px]Though, it wasn’t as if he really cared what a mere droid really thought. Especially one that did not understand that with a Galaxy as huge as this one… differences in [/SIZE][SIZE=10.6667px]pronunciation[/SIZE][SIZE=10.6667px] and [/SIZE][SIZE=10.6667px]accents[/SIZE][SIZE=10.6667px] were a real thing. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.6667px]Parameter… perimeter, the same thing, really.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.6667px]He stepped into the building, studied the signs for a moment, before nodding once and continuing on his path.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.6667px]“The Center’s security forces?” Darell would ask the droid, once they reached the room that housed the artifacts themselves.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.6667px][member="TD-18"] [/SIZE]

 

[Darth Osano]

[member="Darell Irani"]

TD-18, as a droid limited to military operations, did really lack a concept of the vastness of the galaxy. Since most sentient beings only visited a handful of planets (if they left theirs at all), so too did most of them lack it. Fewer still even had an appreciation for the size of their home planets to begin with. This was to speak nothing of the staggering number of galaxies which occupied this universe, or the possibility of multiple universes. No organic, or the machines they created, could truly fathom that the current universe even had an end- much less than other universes existed outside of it. If the organics that made machines could not comprehend the sheer enormity of the multiverse, neither could their machines. Every facet of everything, from the largest planetoid to the tiniest of microbes, ultimately had the same relevance: none. Everything was futile. Eventually the last powerpack would die, the last heartbeat would stop, and the last iota of energy expended.

This universe would be left a cold, empty husk no matter if the Jedi ever truly vanquished the Sith or vice versa.

With this in mind: no. No, it did not ultimately occur to TD-18 that the strange guttural barks exchanged between meatbags could occasionally differ due to accents.

When they reached the entrance to the artifact wing, there were already two individuals waiting for them: a TA4 towering over a whimpering curator. TD-18 liked to move things along quickly, so it came as no surprise that other elements had went ahead of even Irani to make this a decisive procedure. While the rest of the employees were being cordoned off outside until the requisition was over, this one had been dragged out of his office and brought here. TA4s were not a very talkative model. It was not outside the realm of possibility that this witless old Gungan was still oblivious as to what was happening. TD-18 would take steps to inform him as politely as possible.

"Deactivate the security precautions."

The Gungan gave a hurried nod and scampered over to a terminal and began typing away. The TA4 followed him the short distance with slow, ominous footsteps.

"The museum's security staff have already been ordered to stand down." TD-18 informed Irani while they waited. "This unit calculates a 94.6% they will unilaterally comply."

 

[Hira Mitsae]

[SIZE=10.6667px]Fair enough. Darell’s writer thought in response to the essay written down by TD-18’s writer on the sheer scale of the universe and the incalculably small percentage that the organics made part of it, and just how [/SIZE][SIZE=10.6667px]little[/SIZE][SIZE=10.6667px] their effor- all the depressing things aside, Irani was looking at his datapad which contained a barebones list of the catalogue that the museum contained. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.6667px]Though he would look up at that estimation.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.6667px]“And the other 5.4%?” Darell did not think it likely that these people would just attack Hegemonic Automaton excellence. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.6667px]Especially not after the Techno Union had used them to assume direct control over Naboo.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.6667px]But then again, stranger things had happened in the past. Things that made his teeth itch just thinking about them, so better not to ponder to loud about it.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.6667px][member="TD-18"][/SIZE]

 

[Darth Osano]

[member="Darell Irani"]

If TD-18 were an organic he would have fixated Irani with his inefficient vision organs and made a facial expression to express displeasure. The other 5.4%? What about the other 5.4%? TD-18 supposed that, as a droid, it would be obvious to him what constituted the minority percentage. It was, after all, a question of whether or not the museum personnel would offer any martial resistance. If there was a roughly 95% chance of them complying, then the remaining percentage would thusly be them not complying. And since both parties had some amount of armament available to them, it would be safe to say that there would be violence as a result. Was the organic strand of thinking so terribly simplistic that this could not be fathomed or even inferred?

As a Tactical Droid, TD-18 was not programmed to offer such long-winded responses or make them more disparaging in their delivery. His etiquette protocols prevented him from making such vocalizations. It still made TD-18 very angry that these mammals, or a mammal like Irani, had designed and manufactured him. Inferior creatures built inferior technologies. There was no telling what glaring defects these bags of meat had saddled him with. Besides the melancholia, obviously.

"They will not unilaterally comply and our forces would be obligated to make them do so."

The curator cast a nervous glance over his shoulder at the tactical droid, then kept typing.

 

[Hira Mitsae]

[SIZE=10.6667px]Darell was no longer looking at his datapad or the droid.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.6667px]Instead his gaze was staring right at the nervous curator, who was still fidgeting with the security systems of the Center. Their gazes crossed as the Gungan looked back, it seemed some form of understanding would pass between the two.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.6667px]“Thank you for the explanation, TD-18.” but the droid would get the sense that the CEO wasn’t talking to him at all.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.6667px]Almost as if the Gungan had made his choice, he sighed a little bit, before inputting the last credentials - which actually shut off the security systems. Instead of utilizing them to target Darell and his entourage; which had been his earlier motive.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.6667px]Gungans were so… pesky, sometimes.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.6667px]“Alright, TD-18. Let’s start the screening progress.” his attention went back to the datapad, while gesturing towards the curator.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.6667px]One of the Whiteguard stepped up, he would escort the curator out of the building.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.6667px][member="TD-18"][/SIZE]

 

[Darth Osano]

[member="Darell Irani"]

The security systems were offline now, so the heavy blast doors blocking entrance into the room slid upwards to allow them entrance. TD-18 would never understand why Darell had stared down the curator like the poor Gungan owed him money. It was not for tactical droids to understand the mysteries of the Force, or advanced facial expressions. They were, again, primarily concerned with winning large and small scale combat engagements at any cost. Today was less of a combat engagement and more of a repossession operation. Regardless of that, it was his pre-programmed obligation to carry it out.

Even if he would have rather been switched off and left deep in the void, undisturbed and unperturbed by his continued enslavement to the meatbag populace of the Techno Union.

While the Whiteguard and TA4 dragged the curator back off of the property, a team of Z3 and Z1 droids made their way through the hallways and joined up with TD-18. They carried a variety of scanning implements and datapads, all of which would be put to use cataloging the trinkets present in this wing of the museum. TD-18 would have no part in this for the aforementioned reasons. This was menial work unworthy of his superior tactical knowledge. He could care less what these trinkets were, where they came from, or how they got here.

He just wanted to leave.