Private The Revolution of Super Visions

[Oceiros of Shor]

Spark Finn

Oceiros of Shor was more machine than man... On the inside, anyway. The organs were all completely cyberized. Musculature too, rybcoarse interwoven with a flexible metallic weave. The bones were coated in plexisteel. It was all so perfectly fused with whatever remained of his organic parts that it had to be an inside job. Nanomachines.​

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Untold numbers of them were floating around in there, a microscopic phantom presence in his bloodstream. Just doing typical nanomachine things: hanging out, maintenance, repairs. You know how it is. Real high end stuff. This was the best cybernetics suite on the market according to Silver Shield's internal advertising materials. They couldn't have been that far off...​

​

Oceiros furrowed his brow to sense Spark's momentary intrusion, but he quickly became distracted by her answer. He smiled like he had won a special prize and not just repeated figures from stuffy bureaucrats half the galaxy away. His head then turned to follow the supremely wide arc of the tossed beer. It wasn't even close. His eyes continued to track the beer as it hit the ground, ruptured with a hiss, and kept on rolling, spewing its contents in a thin stream the whole time.​

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That had to have been on purpose. Had to. Nobody was that... Well, whatever. Smooth moves. Never give anybody the satisfaction of letting them know they rattled you. Oceiros rose with a grunt and cracked his knuckles.​

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"Food too, huh? I just gave you a beer," Oceiros clucked his tongue, "Ah, whatever. It's fine. Deal's good."​

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He slapped his knees and rose off his couch. "Do I got your permission to 'poof' us this time, Black Knight 7?"​

 

[Spark Finn]

#robotman

Spark's blonde brows furrowed before smoothing back out. That dark voice slithered in the back of her mind. Talons tapping against her mental shield.

Control him.

Spark dismissed it and flinched as the can of beer exploded. #PTSD

"I'm just not a fan of fast food." She blinked up at him as he stood, a ghost of a smile at her own joke. Any awkwardness from smiling at her own joke was lost on her. Limbs uncurled from beneath her and she managed not to trip the few steps it took to approach Oscar. The sharp angle of her chin dipped into a nod, giving #consent.

Elegant fingers hesitated but slipped around his sides as she stepped closer unsure how tight she had to hang on. Yup, those were enhanced muscles there. "You can call me Jenny."

 

[Oceiros of Shor]

Spark Finn

Fast food. Ha, ha, ha. He'd have to say that next time someone threw something edible at him. Not that it happened often. Most people preferred to fire guns, except for that one guy with the knives on Charros IV. That'd been exciting, but an associated zinger hadn't been forthcoming. Maybe he should read more. Build a bigger vocabulary.​

​

She put her hands on him after a moment's hesitation. That was how she'd been conveyed the first time, so she must have figured it was a requirement. Clueless. Very awkward, this lady, but that had its own charms. Oceiros offered a broad a reassuring smile with his blinding teeth. "Alllllrighty, Jen."​

Denon System, Denon
Woxler's Deli

Space folded again, and they were sucked through the fabric of reality like water through a straw. It was always less impressive the second time and by the third his passengers started to take it for granted. That's just life.​

​

They were inside a cramped, but mercifully empty, greasy spoon somewhere in the seedier segment of Denon's twilight zone: that happy spot where the unhinged, loser hacktivists and the corporate jackboots fought things out rather than put down roots. The walls were worn and greasy, the three table placements weren't much better. The sign above the counter wasn't even holographic: someone had hand-written the aurebesh... And quite some time ago, too.​

​

"These guys do a mean acklay hoagie," Oceiros told her. "You can let go now."​

 

[Spark Finn]

That smile of his was brilliant #needtransitionlenses. She had to wonder if it was due to his augmentation. But as they poofed and reappeared she nearly lost her balance and probably would've fallen on her #bonybutt if she hadn't already been hanging onto #Oscarmuscles. The moment of feeling ick passed just in time for the wafting smell of charred meat to tickle the edge of her nose.

A tilt of her chin upwards at his request and her arms un-snaked from around his torso. Probably several moments into the increased awkward meter.

"You don't ever feel sick doing that?" Her fingers motioned in his general direction, talking about the razzle-dazzle poofing.

"Ossie!" The bothan behind the counter laughed at their sudden appearance in his shop. Oh yeah, he was definitely spiced-up. #high "Bro! This a new swipey-righty date of yours, hmm?" His elbow propped on the counter as his hand cupped the bottom of his chin, looking dreamy-eyed at the pair.

Spark stared back.

#lolwut

"Um, I would just like a cheese toastie," Spark muttered, looking at the handwritten menu and adjusting her glasses.

 

[Oceiros of Shor]

Spark Finn

He raised his eyebrows at Spark. "What can I say? I got a durasteel stomach."​

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Literally, as Spark's recent inspection had already revealed.​

​

Oceiros still wore a goofy, implacable smile when the bothan came striding out. But there was pain in his eyes. Should have checked who'd be working today. Should've wore shades. His buddy bothan was already flavor-blasted, and here on Denon it was only... His eyes flicked to a mounted clock that was almost as greasy as the wall it was mounted on. 11 AM. That's rough, man. But Oceiros knew better than anyone it was 5 PM somewhere.​

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Difference was he could actually - you know - get there.​

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"Boris, heeeeey," he rubbed his chin - almost bashfully - as he came over to the counter, "Don't say stuff like that, man, you'll scare 'em off."​

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He glanced behind him at Spark as if he had heard her recite an ancient Sith incantation. A cheese toastie? No accounting for taste. Oceiros returned his attention to Boris.​

​

"I'll take a number three. With the steak fries. You know how it is."​

​

Oceiros dropped the requisite credit chips on the counter.​

 

[Spark Finn]

Grey blue eyes traveled down Oscar's frame to his stomach and then back up again. Yeah, she knew.

#blush

Brois looked at Oceiros like he was the most interesting person he'd seen in a long time. That spiced-high smile plastered across his face. "Right, bro. Welllllllll yeah. Food'll be up in a bit."

Spark snagged a bottle of zizzle water from a cooler and a bag of chipitas from a stand near the register before sliding into a seat near the window. Plastic coating on her seat as cracked as was on the table in front of her. There was a certain charm to these places.

#dives

She tried to open her bottle unsuccessfully. Thin fingers struggling with the cap. "So, tell me more about this job. The vault close to here?" Glasses gaze panned back up to Oscar.

 

[Oceiros of Shor]

Spark Finn

​

Oceiros eventually appeared at her table, holding his own fountain drink and two sad-looking red, plastic fast food baskets. One cradled a tall, full sandwich - sliced neatly in half - with thin slivers of fried meat in between the usual vegetables, encircled by thick fries. Surely this was the aforementioned acklay hoagie. The other basket had a sad, perfectly square grilled cheese. All on its lonesome.​

​

Would it be cold in the middle? Oceiros had never thought to try it himself. In either case, the wax paper meant to shield the basket was already nearly stained through with grease. There could be no doubt this was the good stuff. The real deal of authentic Denon cuisine.​

​

He seated himself and slid Spark her solitary sandwich. "Nah, it's on Narkina 5. This is Denon." He fiddled a plastic straw out of its packaging and the plastic cover over his drink. They were many lightyears off. A staggering amount, actually, and yet Oceiros could get there as easily as he could walk to the bathroom in the back of Woxler's. Not that he'd ever head in that direction - he'd sooner squat over a lava flow on Mustafar. Couldn't be less sanitary or dangerous.​

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"It's sub-nautical. Bottom of some deep ocean trench. Think they used it for R&D, so the brass wants to see if there's any..." He trailed off, eyes flickering to the cap she was struggling with. Oceiros watched for a few moments, debating what the cool-guy move was. Ignore it? Wait to be asked? But now it was clear he was looking, so it would be worse - somehow - to say nothing. ​

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"You want me to...?"​

 

[Spark Finn]

Ah, Denon. Any thoughts of what jumping would do to her stomach quickly dissolved as the toaster was presented in all its humble glory.

Spark looked at the greasy-cheesy basket like she was getting a wanted visit from the Celestials themselves.

#Heaven

Wordlessly, blue eyes flickered between the opened can of fizzy back to Oscar. Didn't take long for her to relent on the task and slide the bottle over to him. Meanwhile, her fingers scooped up that gloriously greasy cheesey sandwich and took a bite. A grunt of satisfaction left her lips. Something mumbled about better than noodles.

"So how're we getting in? Posing a hired maintenance workers...contractors?"

#Exbfsandgfs

"Um, this isn't the same facility as the prison, right?"

 

[Oceiros of Shor]

Spark Finn

Oceiros had never quite seen someone so invigorated by a few pieces of melted cheese between two slices of bread. You ask him, she probably should have gotten a helping of vegetables with that. Might've made the bout between her and the water bottle more of an even fight. ​

​

"I've already seen the main entrance, so.." He paused to twist the cap off the sparkling water before sliding it back her way. "It's an old vault. Old-old. Like... I 'unno, late 5th century ABY. Hundreds of years. Gulag times. Totally abandoned, but all the juicy stuff is behind a big door. Locked tight with something-or-other. Tech stuff. The yoozh."​

​

He wasn't exactly sure why they couldn't bust open the door like any other door, whether with explosives or the same techno-mojo they had fleeced Jerry's computer with. He also wasn't sure why this was the job they had lobbed at Black Knight 7 like a hot potato. But being sure wasn't part of the job description. ​

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Oceiros plucked a steak fry out of the basket and wolfed it down in a quick couple of bites. He maintained his usual cadence and manner of speech even with his mouth full, "It ain't a jail, far as I know. Worried you'll see someone you know, Black Knight?"​

 

[Spark Finn]

The master technomancer reached for the fizzy bottle, polishing off half her sandwich with surprising speed. Sandy brows scrunched together in thought at what the tech might be like if it was that old.

#boomers

With a small pop-tug she opened the bag of chipitas. The manufactured BBQ smell wafted up to tickle her nose and she dug in. Crunch-CRUNCH-CRUNCH-swallow. A subtle look around them. She had sensed when they first arrived for any kind of monitoring tech. Most city worlds like the one they were on had standard cameras all over, even in a place like this. To her surprise, there hadn't been any she'd needed to refocus.

Just that same low-level hum of technology she sensed all over Oscar.

And abandoned but locked? That was interesting. #suss

A bony-shouldered shrug at his question. "I'd be more curious to see who you know, Oscar." A flick of her eyes to Boris who was humming to himself and wiping down a counter that would never get clean. Then back to Oscar's orange-ish eyes. "You have a back-up plan for getting out of there if something happens to you?" Spark didn't know if she liked the idea of solely relying on his blipping even if he was Mister Muscles.

 

[Oceiros of Shor]

Spark Finn

"Pff, yeah, right. No sleemo friends for me, no ma'am. I'm clean as a whistle. Squeaky, even." He didn't sound very convincing, but he nevertheless punctuated his sentence by taking a large bite out of his sandwich. The contents bulged from one end and threatened jump, but Oceiros' grip was firm. Kept everything in line. This was not his first grapple with the number 3.​

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He raised his eyebrows. "Geez, Jen, I didn't know you cared... But don't sweat it. Nothing ever bad happened to me."​

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Oceiros took a moment to chew and then swallow. A real gentleman, he then snatched a napkin out of the nearby holder to dab his mustache. Perfectly ambivalent to the precarity by which the lettuce and tomato were hanging from his hoagie. ​

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"But I mean, if something did happen - which is unlikely - I guess you could jump in the submersible and float back on up. I think they got one parked by the front door. You can run fast, right?"​

 

[Spark Finn]

She frowned at him but didn't correct him when he assumed things. After a few swigs of fizzy she began finishing off her toastie. A swallow at his next question.

"You said it was abandoned." The idea of running or doing anything physical made her bony butt shift uncomfortably in her chair. #notonthepodium And made her take another bite of sandwich. The force would stretch forward, feather light touch, as she tried to listen in on any chatter through his earpiece.

She was curious about a couple things and not just what she might be able to hear.

How did she ask the next part? Any part of smoothness fell horribly flat. "So you, with, you know. All that mass." #andnanotech #muscles "I take it you can fight? You can blip. Anything else you wanna share with your partner that might y'know, help us both?"

 

[Oceiros of Shor]

Spark Finn

Filtering through Oceiros' earpiece were the dulcet tones of... Hold music. Smooth jatz. It was difficult to say how long he'd been on hold, but he must have been unsupervised for a while now. They must have been transferring him over to a relevant command center now that his mission was switching gears.​

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"You said it was abandoned."​

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"It is," Oceiros confirmed, "The front part, anyway. Like I said, no one's been home for a while, so the rest of it's probably empty too."​

​

It was plausible - perhaps even likely - that there were ten thousand angry, immortal science experiments scampering around in there waiting to kill whoever had the decency to open the front door for them. Worrying about that kind of thing just wasn't Oceiros' style. Either creepy death was waiting inside or it wasn't. He had to go in anyway. Making a fuss about it would just fray the nerves of this poor, bespectacled blonde.​

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Oceiros took another prodigious bite from his sandwich and seemed perfectly happy to do so until Spark commented on his mass. Chewing slowed to a halt. Eyebrows furrowed. Did she just call him fat? Maybe he should tweak the metabolism settings again, but he thought he looked great... Groovy, even. Must've been the jacket. Probably added some heft.​

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He swallowed. "I got a gun. That help?" Oceiros padded the approximate area of his person where his shoulder holster was. "You usually this twitchy? You didn't have any problem stormin' Jerry's place all by yourself."​

 

[Spark Finn]

Was that...reminded her of the tunes they played on the lift on Coruscant between level 47 and 53.

She popped another chipita in her mouth. Eyes traveling to where Oscar patted at his gun. Her small nose scrunched for a moment. Fingers adjusted the frames of her glasses.

"Depends on how well you can aim it," she muttered about his gun and its value.

Her pale cheeks turned warm at his #twitchy comment. A huff of blonde hair away from her face as she stared at him then slouched further down in her chair. Sure, sure, sure. She was about to make a ton of credits. But look what storming in had gotten her?

A lost ship. Being systems away. But a delicious cheese toastie. #worthit

"You ever worked with a partner before?"

 

[Oceiros of Shor]

Spark Finn

He scoffed, but it came out more like a chuckle on account of Spark's blush. "I'm a straight shooter. Straightest in the biz. Can't you tell?" He offered another dentist-sponsored smile, as if this in itself was enough to prove it.​

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Despite the radiance, Oceiros was suddenly thinking of his gut and wasn't so hungry any more. Yeah, the nano-machines could scrub his arteries. Did scrub his arteries. Trimmed the fat once in a while. But should he make them work so hard? That was the question. Would he have the nanomachines forever? Oh, what a nightmare if he lost 'em somehow. It was borderline existential. ​

​

Oceiros set down his sandwich and leaned back. Very casual. "Two of 'em, way back when. Satoshi and Harcrow. Tough dudes. Not as fun as me, though. Dunno what they're up to now."​

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What roads did they walk now? He had to wonder if they were still even on the Guild's payroll. Oceiros took the opportunity to take a contemplative sip of his fountain drink.​

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"What about you? I'm guessin' you used to benefit from supervision."​

 

[Spark Finn]

"I'm a straight shooter. Straightest in the biz. Can't you tell?"

"We'll see," she grunted, skinny arms crossing over her stomach. "Not as fun?" A loft of sandy brows. So, some typical mook mercs? Probably not ones to teleport a stranger to some rundown club where a random cooler of beer waited.

Made her rub lightly at the bruise that blossomed across one side of her face and pale skin. It was turning a nice dark purple with splotches of green.

#oof

benefit from supervision

Eyes snapped back to his face and widened beneath those glass lenses of hers.

#lolwut

"Is that what you think, this," her finger would point between them, "is?" There surge of darkside with a crackle of green. That voice inside her head purred.

Show him how vulnerable he is.

 

[Oceiros of Shor]

Spark Finn

Oceiros felt it: that familiar twinge in The Force... Someone strumming the strings that bound together all of creation, playing a song that spelled out b-a-d, v-i-b-e-s. Well, 'someone.' It wasn't him and it sure wasn't Boris, so it was probably the mousy blonde making angry hand gesticulations between them. He might have brushed it off on Rodia, but now it was harder to ignore.​

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"Hey, heeey," Oceiros displayed his palms in surrender, "C'mon, Jen. I didn't mean nothing by it."​

​

Just a couple parsecs short of an actual apology. Maybe she wouldn't notice...​

 

[Spark Finn]

The air around them almost seemed to tighten as if the grungy cafe was holding its breath for what might happen next. Pale blue eyes stared at Oscar. At his palms. Spark took a small breath and slowly exhaled, then finished off the #bbq chipitas. That voice inside her head quieted into a whispered grumble.

"You have sauce on your hands," she pointed out with her empty bag of chipitas waving between then.

There was a ding sound as the door of the Boris' shop opened.

#superoldschool #cheap?

A pair of large, muscular rodians entered, their bulbous eyes glancing in their direction for a long moment.

 

[Oceiros of Shor]

Spark Finn

Oceiros sucked on his cheek and slowly rotated one palm back towards him to get a better look at it, then the other. So he did. That was a big problem with the number three. Having great amounts of sauce comes with great responsibility, but Oceiros was all tapped out on responsibility. "Gee, thanks." At least she hadn't vaporized him or... Whatever she was gonna do with that nasty look in her eyes.​

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He tore out a couple napkins from the holder and very mindfully cleaned his hands. Then he craned his head instinctively when he heard the door open. Two meathead rodians, but that was redundant. They ended up in a staring contest for a long moment before they went over to the counter and rung the bell. Oceiros watched them warily for another second. ​

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They sure didn't look hungry... But that was a problem for Boris.​

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Oceiros took up his prodigious sandwich again. "Sorry. Slow eater. What were we talking about?"​

 

[Spark Finn]

A small huff escaped her lips. Skinny arms crossed firmly beneath her chest. "How you're not the boss of me." A small upward curve of one side of her mouth. A glance out the grimy window at the city streets beyond.

One of the rodians suddenly pulled a blaster on Boris.

"Give me all your credits. Now."

Boris looked surprised. Then confused.

The other pulled a blaster on them. "You two. Fuking hands where I can see them."

Spark stared out the window a moment longer than was polite. Not that she needed to be polite for someone waving a blaster at their faces. #asif At least this time, she'd been able to finish her food.

#respect

"And no fuking heroics." That same rodian had his attention on Oscar when he spoke that second part. And Spark was mildly offended.