That Old Throbbing Filth Bag [Myles Vandoorslammer]

[HK-36]

[member="Myles Vylumnar"],



Another day, another invitation was sent out from the palace of Lord Protector in the Orbit of Denon. The Droid space was a Galactic power that rose to claim their territory almost overnight, suddenly appearing in the Denon and Corellian sector and managing to establish partnership and cooperation with various planetary governments rather quickly. Their path was not one of conquest however, for the machines preferred way of diplomacy and commerce over anything else, particularly the art of bribing, which turned out to be highly effective on organics and bought them their way into Galactic political theater. Over time they became very good at making deals and buying out loyalties of various merchants, politicians, and less reputable characters, it seemed that HK was planning on continuing that tradition as the message was directed towards Confederate space.

However it would not be a simple diplomatic offer for negotiations or establishing partnership, the invitation was summoning one specific man, a Corellian, spacer, and more importantly, mercenary, named Myles Vandoorslammer. Apparently the distant droid lords heard something about the man, so that when Myles put his name out there, searching for more jobs and employment to reestablish himself within the Galaxy, the Machine Lords were quick to extend an invitation to him. Whether he could bring guards or weapons they did not say, all that was offer really was the time, place, and promise of fortune to be made.


If Myles was on Denon ever before, once he arrived, it would be a sight vastly different from what he could remembered. Well the planet itself would have been unchanged, still glimmering with the many industrial lights, still covered by the red and black veins of streets and buildings that covered the entire city-planet. The new addition, however, was the ring of ships encircling the planet as if laying siege to it, and the many stations being build in its orbit with hustle and bustle of smaller vessels and drones.

Myles would have been directed to dock with one of these stations and come aboard, a strange construction that almost seemed to be cobbled together from skeletons and corpses of other stellar structures, repurposed many times over and added on top of each other, like jigsaw of starship wrecks and durasteel plating woven together to form the new presence over the planet. Other systems would have probably faced similar projects as Denon was not alone in still adjusting to the new power within that sector, planets like Nubia, Loromar, and Hakassi too had similar rings of spacecraft around, they too had new spacestations and bases build around them. The droids asked for relatively little of their subjects, they did not enslaved them, they did not force them to fight for them, some did not even overthrew their previous governments. What they did ask however was one of the main reasons why they decided to lay claim on territory. An armada of new, larger ships, and a lot of them.


Moving through the spacestation Myles would have been directed towards one of the many conference rooms, passing many other droids on her way there, which currently HK claimed as his main office and base of operations within the system. The room would be fairly large, with a grand conference table in the middle with a holoprojector housed in its center, and a smaller duranium desk sitting in front of a large view screen or transparisteel, overlooking the glowing amber planet they were currently orbiting, with the other grand station now in the planet's orbit, the Space Bazaar, visible just disappearing behind the planet over in the distance.

The droids Myles passed would usually seem rather intelligent and independent, going about their day and the duties within the station, chattering with each other in quick bursts of data, although some did seem a bit off. Slightly loopy, dancing on the brink of insanity, only somewhat lucid, but then again such was usually the price when it came to droids who have not had a mind wipe in years if not centuries, quirks and data just kind of build up for them. There were few units who seemed much less intelligent, looking over their surroundings with dull cold stare, usually following other droids as their servants, or standing as silent guards within the station. They were drones, machines like droids, but with only rudimentary intelligence, more like animals than truly sentient beings. They were the answer droids had towards making large mechanical armies, yet not having the guilt over enslaving their own kind into combat legions.

And so Myles would come face to face with her potential new patron, the droid stood up from behind his desk, looking at him in silence, letting him have the first words as he judged him from behind the impassive stare of two crimson photoreceptors like flaming embers, yet cold at the same time. His face was a smooth faceplate with no nose, slots for lips and mouth, two fang-like spikes protruding down from it, and the holes for those electronic eyes. It was smooth and pale like bone, yet metallic, if Myles could tell such things apart he would know it was Phrik. The rest of the droid's body seemed to have been covered in some sort of flesh-like black substance with thicker chitinous plates attached over certain regions, all of which was wrapped tightly in heavy black cloak. A Vong-shaped armor, rarely if ever seen on a droid.

 

[Myles Velum]

It had been a while since his last employment.



But then again, it's not like Myles was ever out of a job. He'd made good money in his few years doing what he did, whatever that was. Still, he never thought to settle down. Not for one second. See, Myles was a spacer... A pilot- and a damn good one at that. He was still a young man, but his talent for flying ships had been embedded within his DNA as long as he could remember. His talents had gotten him fame and fortune throughout his ventures... Well, perhaps infamy instead of fame. Myles had developed a renown with the deplorables of the galaxy. He'd made connections, gathered information. He was almost like a network of criminal intelligence at this point. Then again, the galaxy's underbelly was surprisingly a close-knit community. Word often spread fast, and spread it did.

Now, he had been hired by yet another faction. They were somewhat of an upstart, but nothing Myles would really know much about- or care to know much about. In his line of work, the only thing that mattered was money. And money they had.

"Where we going, Kuz?"

"Denon... I put in the coordinates, didn't you see?" the Toydarian replied gruffly, taking another drunken swig of his "mystery drink."

"Close to home... Alright, settle in."

Kuzma was Myles' partner in crime, so to speak. He too had plenty of information regarding the criminal underground. He was more or less a mentor to Myles, but also somewhat of a drunken slob. Regardless, Myles kept him around for whatever reason he did. Arriving at their destination, Myles was almost taken aback by the state of the Denon's orbit. He never actually set foot on the planet, but being so close to home he couldn't help if he passed by it... And this was not how he remembered it.

"What is this, a junkyard?"

"Eh... You watch yer mouth around them droids, boy... Ain't be sayin' that around them."

Landing at the designated platform, Myles was surprised to see an escort waiting for him. After a short greeting and formality, he was led down to his droid employer while Kuz stayed at the ship getting drunk, as he usually did. Myles noted the droids around him... They were almost just like normal people, and he took notice of some of the ones that seemed to have a few screws loose. But it was nothing Myles was uncomfortable with. Although he almost felt alone and out of place surrounded by droids, this was just business. Eventually they reached the office of his new employer. He stood tall and intimidating, but Myles has been around these types before, and kept in mind that there was a paycheck waiting at the end of this. He put on a somewhat stern demeanor, standing upright while keeping his eyebrows slightly narrowed. Seeing as his employer fell silent, he took it upon himself for introduction.

"Most people call me 'Spacer'..." he said. "But I guess you already know me as Myles."

[member="HK-36"]

 

[HK-36]

[member="Myles Velum"],

The tall skeletal droid would nod back to Myles, staying silent at first for few seconds which seemed to stretch into infinity as Myles introduced himself, scanning over him only before finally replying,

"As colorful pseudonym as your past, Spacer Myles, people of this sector refer to me as the Iron Lord Protector Above Denon, my original designation was Hunter Killer, Series 36, Model 1. Call me whatever you see fit, I could not care less,"

With that the machine would lift one of his long spindly arms and motioned with the six fingers to one of the chairs in front of his duranium blackened desk, they were wicker from the look of them, but instead of wood they were twined out of some silvery metallic looking material.

"Please, have a seat."

HK offered as he himself lowered down to his large metal seat, pulling out a couple of datapads on which he opened the files Droid Lords managed to gather on Myles,

"You are Corellian is that right?"

The droid asked but before Myles could answer the machine would look up from the datapads at him,

"It just so happens that Corellian system is within the influence of Droid Space currently. We have heard of your skills, Spacer Myles, and rumors of the mistakes you may have made straying from the law. The Metal Lords could use a man of your skills, whether in commercial or more militant jobs we offer. In exchange for your services you would not only amass a fortune worthy of a man loyal to our noble cause, but we are willing to pardon and clear any previous negative records you could have in these sectors."

HK would lean back in his chair then, watching the man,

"A clean start for you and your crew, if that interests you."

 

[Myles Velum]

Myles never really referred to his employers as... well, anything. Maybe he'd throw around a 'sir' or 'boss', but addressing his employers by name wasn't something he really did. It was sort of... uncomfortable, awkward. Myles simply remained silent as he listened to the droid's monologue. Moving to take a seat in front of the droid's desk, Myles studied the skeletal figure before him. His body was surprisingly... scary? He almost seemed like something out of a horror movie, and reminded him of some character from a really bad prequel trilogy. It was something he hadn't really seen before. Was he custom-built? And who built him? After realizing that pondering was pointless, the young pilot shifted in his seat and kept listening.

He noticed the droid holding what Myles assumed was a datapad. Of course, any employer should do research on their employee... But it wasn't like Myles had a very organized background. He wasn't exactly a ghost without a trace, but many of his files were missing, corrupt, or simple jumbled in some way that it'd be almost like a puzzle you'd have to piece together. Kuzma made sure of that- at least it was one thing that made him useful. In any case, Myles assumed that this droid had the assets to collect at least an intelligible collection of information on Myles. He actually thought of it as more of a resume, considering his line of work. Basic information, criminal records...

"It's just me. No crew. And I'm not looking for your pardons, I'm looking for a paycheck."

Truth be told, Myles wouldn't mind being pardoned of his crimes. Being hounded by authorities across sectors was a nuisance, a pain in the ass. But he knew that he'd eventually just fill up his "crime-quota" even after being pardoned. It wasn't the type of life he wanted to live in forever, but it was the type of life he was living right now. He also recognized it as a barter technique: bring some other incentive or offer to the table as a means to undercut your pay. It was something his past employers sometimes did- offering "valuable" or "useful" things while cutting a small percentage of his paycheck... No, credits were the only thing valuable and useful for Myles.

"Just tell me what needs to be done, and I'll do it."

Myles spoke somewhat softly with a smooth voice. His tone was serious and demanding yet non-threatening. This was usually the voice he used when "talking business." He wanted to cut straight to the chase. Business meetings weren't something Myles reveled to be a part of. They made him feel... uneasy. Uncomfortable. He didn't like these kinds of things to drone on for too long. That, and he didn't enjoy the feeling of being probably the only non-droid in this place, besides Kuzma.

[member="HK-36"]

 

[HK-36]

[member="Myles Velum"],

"What about the seemingly alcoholic gentleman in your ship?"

The droid asked, referring of course to Kuzma,

"Either way, suit yourself but the pardon will be on the table as long as you will keep working for us, should you change your mind. You can start by hunting down one of our enemies,"

HK begun the job description by taking out a holoprojector and activating it, passing the cybernetic disk-shaped device to Myles as it begun to show various recordings and data files on the Deep Ones and their vessels.

"Recently Droid Space came under attack by these creatures, they show up from time to time in large nomadic fleets, harass our trade lanes or outposts, and disappear into the Deep Space. They seem to utilize uncharted or hidden hyperlane network, which makes it somewhat difficult to track them down, but we have been fortunate enough that in our observations of their movements we noticed a patrol route of sorts. One of their ships travels the edge of our space at repeating increments, alone, we believe it is some sort of a scout or sentry to keep watch on us."

With a wave of his hand the holoprojector would show the map of Droid Space and the projected route of this patrol ship,

"Your job is to intercept it, board it, and capture the commanders and if you can identify them, navigators. We are not certain how they manage to chart their courses as we did not find navigation computers aboard their ships, if we could figure it out, it would be a crucial move in tracking the rest of their forces down."

 

[Myles Velum]

He was a bit surprised that the droid knew of Kuzma lurking around his ship. Myles never really considered him to be much of a "crew member". Hell, he never even considered that they were a "crew" at all. Reflecting upon it, he could suppose the two of them were like a crew, or perhaps a duo of sorts. Kuzma often did contribute and was helpful in some of his ways, but other than that he was just a trunk-nosed drunken fly.

Myles took the holoprojector, watching various recordings of the Deep Ones in combat, and reading their collected files as he listened to the droid speak. Once the projected route appeared, Myles already began planning out this job in his head. Then again, he often got ahead of himself like that. By now wasn't much left to speak of besides payment. He'd missed the information that the Deep Ones lived in an environment toxic to humans- or maybe he just ignored it.

"Okay. And how much am I getting paid for this? I want half now, and the rest when I bring you their ship."

He spoke in an almost demanding tone, but there was a hint behind it that he was hesitant to speak in such a way. Even through all his experience in these sorts of things, he really is just a young man.

[member="HK-36"]

 

[HK-36]

[member="Myles Velum"],


"Well the standard pay for life-threatening missions in service of the Droid Space is your weight in Energy Chips or other currency of your choosing,"

Energy Chips were one of the currencies used by the Metal Lords, HK specifically, since each Lord tended to put into effect their own currency. Some based it on Phrik rather than gold, some on durasteel or duranium which were used wildly within the machine territory, others just copied the gold-backed Standard Credit and called it something else. As for HK, he based it on pure energy, each Energy Chip was a flat crystal-like token which was worth as much, and contained, equivalent to 10 Joules of energy. It was based on the Sourcefyre Crystal technology the droid's Guild of Hammers came up with, technology based on freezing light and energy into solid state.

"Usually we have a little ceremony with it, the recipient kneels down and we shower them in the coins using this big coffer thing we have. Considering your current body mass state,"

HK motioned towards Myles' stomach, hinting that he may have thought him to be either malnourished or a bit on the chubby side, although compared to the skeletal metal being with spindly limbs, everyone was pretty chubby. In a smooth motion he would tap one of the datapads and do calculations on it,

"And conversions into Standard Credit, you will be paid in total about this much."

The machine would turn the datapad around to let Myles look at the sum. Safe to say it would take care of any fuel usage he would have to go through during the missions, and repairs probably. If he wanted to, it would probably be enough to buy him a whole new ship and a rather large amount of alcohol for Kuzma. It was a reflection of the wealthy of the machines, who were surprisingly good at saving and accounting, plus the fact they were merchant-focused and sitting on two major hyperlane crossings helped their coffers.

"Plus any loot you will be able to carry and some of the equipment we will outfit you in before departing on this mission."

 

[Myles Velum]

As the droid motioned toward his stomach, Myles couldn't help but shoot a quick glance at his gut before turning away. The droid calculated the sum of his paycheck, which was rather quick seeing as he was, well, a droid. An eyebrow was raised as Myles looked at the total amount, his eyes darting from the datapad to his employer and back. It was a surprisingly large payment for what seemed to be a menial task. Then again, he didn't really mind. These "Deep Ones" seemed like they were a real pest to the droids anyway.

"Yeah, credits will do."

Other currencies didn't really hold any value to him. Credits could buy pretty much anything in the galaxy, and if they didn't he could just find some way to convert them. Myles never really questioned his employers' motives or reasons for hiring him to do the things he did. And when he did, he'd never question them outright. It was sort of his thing to always get a job done- no matter what. If they wanted him to hunt down some squid people, then he'd hunt down some squid people. So long as there was a pot of gold at the end of the blood trail.

"And... equipment? Anything else I should know?"

He fidgeted in his seat, getting ready to stand and leave to get the job done. He had pretty much all the information he needed, but then again there was never such thing as "too much."

[member="HK-36"]

 

[HK-36]

[member="Myles Velum"],

"Credits it is."

The machine confirmed, tapping the datapad screen before looking to Myles again,

"Do you want that showered over you from a coffer or the boring direct transfer format?"

The droid offered Myles another choice, as the man asked about the equipment he was being sent with one the mission the droid would reach to one of the compartments of his desk, pulling it out, as his fingers still tapped on the datapad,

"You will be given an Armored Biot, like the one I am wearing."

HK would motion to the black flesh like goop that covered his Phrik body and its chitinous plates,

"It offers pretty decent protection from heavy weaponry, but more importantly, it creates an Anti-Force field within its confines of sorts. As long as you would wear it, the Force would not be able to manipulate you directly, whether telekinetically, or more importantly, telepathically. The Deep Ones will not sense your presence and they will not shatter your mind within seconds of being aboard their ship. They are beings gifted in the Force, but this will give you an edge over them."

The droid would explain as he pulled out a silver elongated hilt from the compartment,

"Here you go, a free lightsaber."

He said casually before moving on,

"You might want to wear the biot underneath another layer of armor or an environment suit. It does not exactly protect your from any possible exposure to the void of space, and more importantly, it does not filter out toxic gasses, so you will need either a sealed suit over it, or a rebreather mask. I would suggest wearing a good helmet, especially if you will try to fight these things up close- they will try to go right for your head to crack it open and suck out the brains from within."

The droid would warn him as he finished tapping in a sequence on his datapad,

"Other than that, you can speak to our quartermasters within the armory, if you would need additional pistols, ammunition, explosives, or melee weapons, they can outfit you with droid-forged equipment before you will leave."

 

[Myles Velum]

Upon being offered to be showered in credits, Myles simply shook his head. Perhaps these hard-bodied droids were used to being pelted with rocks or chunks of metal, but Myles had a fleshy-body. And he'd been pelted with a credit before; suffice to say he did not enjoy it. He listened to the droid's monologue, taking a mental note of every detail he provided. Then suddenly, he dropped a lightsaber into his hand. A lightsaber? Seriously? Myles had no idea what he'd do with a lightsaber. He wasn't like those jedi doing backflips and high fiving the wind, so he didn't exactly know how to use one. After all, why stab something when you can just shoot it from afar?

"Uh..." he muttered.

But before he could actually say anything, the droid continued speaking. Luckily, Myles always kept a rebreather hidden around in his ship. He really only used it for entering certain clubs and cantinas on Nar Shaddaa where they pumped the room full of gases toxic to humans. His employer also offered their armory to Myles, although he didn't really need to access it. He always brought his own equipment, at least the equipment he had.

Besides the "Armored Biot" that was mentioned, Myles was pretty much ready. He wasn't too interested in covering himself with black goo, but the droid made it seem important so he supposed he didn't really have a choice. He stuck the lightsaber- which he still didn't know what to do with- on his side hanging off his belt.

"Well, if that's all then..." he spoke up. "Consider the job done."

[member="HK-36"]

 

[HK-36]

[member="Myles Velum"],

"Yes that should be it."

The machine agreed as he swept all but one of the datapads back into his desk's container,

"This should have all the information you would need, including payment data and how to properly put your armored biot on. We will have the container with it loaded onto your ship by the time you get back to it."

HK informed Myles before he dismissed him with a wave of his hand,

"Good luck and may the Force be with you."