Ask Among Machines and Men

[Roxchelle Paradiya]

It was quite simple. – Or so Roxchelle thought, once she had made the arrangement.

Aharon Staergin was an extraordinaire with ambition. He was a rising star when it came to his inventions and projects, and thus he was a man of interest for the IGBC as a whole. But Roxchelle had an entirely different purpose of contacting the Senator of Champala. One of private matter.

A matter that at the moment was pushed into a suitcase with wheels.
A very heavy suitcase with wheels, Roxchelle concluded, as she with curses and violence in moderate quantities dragged it after her. Not only was the suitcase heavy, but it had been complicated to get to Mr. Staergin’s residence. If she knew it was this tiresome and surrounded with so much water, she might as well have worn a bikini.

The chairwoman was met by a droid that she politely followed into a waiting room. Her heels clicked against the floor as she walked, but much smaller and faster pair of feet followed right behind her. They belonged to an oversized Voorpak, a bit on the round side. That wore a way too tiny spike collar, and with every step Roxchelle took, it murmured a small growl in disapproval of either the penthouse, or its own general existence.


As Roxchelle sat and placed the suitcase beside her, she couldn’t help but look around the penthouse and study the little details. It was a familiar environment that to her at once felt like a warm hug, and at the same time was entirely new territory. One she met with curiosity. She smoothed the green dress to annihilate a couple of folds that emerged and began tapping her long nails against the surface of the suitcase to ease any excitement.

@Olwin

 

[Aharon Staergin]

The residence of Senator Aharon Staergin is a massive, sleek tower in the middle the ocean. Well... during high tide. When low tide rolled around, the plateau underneath was shown. The stone itself was dark and strong, a bedrock for the rest of the tower. It was clean and white, with rows of pristine transparisteel along each side. It was conical in shape with the top a flat plane, with a second invetted cone at the bottom acting as the base. The supports went out like a tree skirt, thick durasteel supports that dig deep into the ground covered with a transperisteel mesh.

The very top floor was where the craft the visitor arrived on had landed on, with a RIC droid awaiting the arrival to carry any baggage they brought. Some parts of the droid were miscolored as a deep grey, though the vast majority were the soft tans many droids were built with. The three fingered hands grasped the handel of the briefcase and wheeled it behind itself, moving towards a nearby turbolift. The enterance was flanked by two older model New Republic security droids, armed with the traditional DH-17 blaster pistols the line usually weilded. The lift itself took a short while before arriving at the top floor, so the RIC droid rolled at the female's walking pace.

Once the lift doors opened, the square bodied visage of the B8G Labour droid who operated it appeared. It's voice was soft and very mechanical, rolling out slowly and deliberately with every syllable it spoke.

"Going down." it spoke, as it's left arm motioned for the woman to enter. If she did so, the doors would close soon after and a lower floor would be pressed. The illumated button would only be a third of the way down the building, which seemed to also go somewhat into the stone the building was founded on. The speed of the elevator was seen as the numbers trickled down above the doors, the screen showing a floor passing every two or three seconds. Yet it was not felt, a sign of quality in this places construction and a sign of just how deep his pocketbooks flow. A soft music was playing as the trio stood in silence, or atleast the droids did so. As the lift began to slow, the RIC droid prepared to roll out again. The doors opened after the ten minute ride, revealing a waiting room.

It was a rather large room for a waiting room, with a soft white and grey color pallet to the place with polished silver floors. Off to one side was a rounded couch set up, three separate semi-circular white couches backed with wood sat around a large rounded stone coffee table. Above the table was a large chandelier, a single bulb in the center sorrounded by small bands strung with crystals. Across from one of the couches was an inbuilt television in the wall, playing the latest news. Perpendicular from the couch sat a rounded white desk with a crystalline sheet topping it. Behind that desk sat a hot pink GG Hospitality Droid finishing up a call, in what could be gathered to be Pak Pak (Neimodian), before the feminine droid turned its head up to her.

"Why yes, may I he..." the slightly synthetic yet still very feminine voice spoke before cutting itself off, "oh yes, your are Mr. Staergin's 4 o'clock. Take the turbolift three floors down, you'll find him. Or you can go through that door and take the stairs down the back way. It may be more of a work out, but that's faster. And the luggage would be with you shortly after." Her three fingered hand turned to the door towards her left.

@Moon Nymph

 

[Roxchelle Paradiya]

Roxchelle placed an arm around herself to imitate an embrace. Those droids made her kind of uncomfortable, but it was difficult to see on her face, because the red smile never faded when she looked at the pink droid.

“Thank you very much. I prefer to carry my suitcase myself. This one is kind of important to me”.

Rox nodded and began walking towards the staircase.
“Chubby! Come here boy!”
The Voorpak pitter-pattered after her fast. Even if the turbolift was faster and went incredibly smooth, the young woman would rather walk with extra weight, than feel trapped with walls around her and no means of escape.

For a moment she paused and looked down the many stairs. The impressions were innumerable, but she noticed each and every one of them, and they made her consider things.

*It’s machines… all of them. Not even one single being of flesh and blood. Things. Things that are designed to work and respond in single manner of what is expected of them. Inorganic. With no space for mistakes. The only thing that would change that would be if they were…*

Roxchelle bit her lip and glanced down her suitcase.

*Broken… Like living beings. Ever-changing and beautiful in the process*.

This place was the exact opposite of her home. And she wondered what it meant about the person that awaited by the end of the staircase. The steps seemed endless, like a whirlpool.

With a deep breath, Roxchelle began going down the abyss, careful not to lose her balance to the weight of the suitcase, that she coordinated between the high heeled shoes. With every step she dragged the heavy suitcase, it bumped and alerted everyone and everything in the building to her presence.

Once Roxchelle finally could count to have descended three floors, she exhaled from the exhaustion and straightened her back. Could she now write professional mountaineer on her CV? This had at least deserved some credit.

She carefully peeked around a corner by the door that opened, curious about what she would find. The corners of her mouth crept up in a smirk.

The pitter-patter had not yet descended the staircase, but when it did, the Voorpak was way less polite and decided to claim this strange land for his own. Chubby passed Roxchelle and ran into the room on full speed.

@Olwin

 

[Aharon Staergin]

The workshop of the senator was vast and somewhat dim, like a giant warehouse of parts and displays of various droids who could not be saved. There were rather tall stacks of cargo crates, with indistinct grey siding only differentiated from eachother by a black label of various numbers and letters. As the figures would step forward the overhead lights would activate with the motion which would lighten the room more.

In the heart of the room sat a large space cleared of all of the cargo crates. Instead, there sat a large slab of rock turned into a table, sorrounded by several tables. Many held several different broken droids who look like they should be recycled, while a few others held a vast variety of tools and the occasional spare part. The current droid on the table was a KX-series droid that looked like it had been through an explosion, with one arm nearly entirley gone and a vast majority of his chest blown through and heavily damaged. Several pieces of the damage armor was placed into a basket near by, which seemed to he a salvage box.

What was interesting was one of the few living beings in the entire tower was standing there over the droid, elbow deep inside the chest of the droid. His flesh was a soft purple, though along the right side of his exposed torso was occasionally pink with scar tissue. That extended up to his face and head tentacle, yet even with all the scaring he was rather handsome. He was rather well built, obviously following the Thorne technique for quite a while. His eyes was covered with a pair of goggles he was adjusting to zoom into the damage that the droid had. The rest of his face was sharp and beautiful, like an ancient statue brought to life. He softly laughed before he turned his head up from the droid and lifted the goggles from his eyes to his forehead to look at the female.

"Oh my, sorry about this. I had forgotten what time it was." He slowly slid his arm from the torso and grabbed a rag from the table to wipe himself off. "I apologize for the rather..." he slowly looked down to himself and softly shrugged, "... I guess you could say rather informal outfit. I hope a drink would help this?" Aharon motioned to a short LEB droid walking forward with a tray in hand and a champagne flute on that. It was being poured as Aharon spoke, the tiny bunny-like droid softly beeping to the woman as it motioned the drink to her.

As her attention would be focused on the droid for a moment, he stepped away from the table and over to one of the tables near by. On it sat a neatly folded purple and blue silk shirt, in which he picked up and began to slide it over his well built shoulders. With each motion, his muscles visibly moved under his flesh until the shirt covered them. He then began to button up his shirt, facing away from the woman, before turning back and filling his own champagne flute and taking a small sip of it.

"So, I do not believe I gathered your name? And your purpose for such a long journey here?"

@Moon Nymph

 

[Roxchelle Paradiya]

*How peculiar*, Roxchelle thought.

If it wasn’t for the fact that the droids only were machines, this would resemble a large graveyard with layers upon layers of body parts that were scattered all over. She fought the urge to shiver from the association.

Whatever discomfort began rising in her body quickly evaporated and exchanged with an entirely different feeling. A warm vacuum shot through her diaphragm and caused her to grab a lock of her hair with surprise. Of all the things she had expected to be lurking down here, a man with his bare chest and arm coated in oil was definitely the last of them. And she found herself unavailable to find a place to look that seemed somewhat dignified, when he spoke.

*Is this… Senator Staergin?*

Roxchelle had followed the man through social media for some time, as a part of business analysis, but seeing him in person was a different ordeal. She wrapped the orange lock around her finger and chose to fixate on his eyes. Her lips parted to speak, but she was interrupted by a soft beeping by her side. Her first reaction was that she was being attacked by a mouse, and in response she rose her leg with a small whine, ready to jump for safety on the closest available thing. Or smash it into the next dimension.

Only to find that it wasn’t a mouse, but another machine. This one with drinks.
“Oh, IIII…”
The emerald green eyes locked on Aharon’s blue gaze and glanced back and forth between him and the droid.
Roxchelle wasn’t here as a representation of the IGBC. Only if someone asked. And besides – alcohol didn’t work on her the same way it did for other humanoid beings. Her metabolism was different. As long as it wasn’t pure processed sugar, this would be okay, so Roxchelle picked the cocktail glass up and began twirling the liquid around with her little finger nail. She looked doe-eyed up at Senator Beefcake – Ahem – Senator Staergin. Despite the fact that Roxchelle never had said yes, and this type of courtesy came of as a bit pushy, she nodded calmly to show some gratitude and patted the small droid on the head. This WAS a rather cute one – for a droid.

“Thank you Mr. Staergin. My name is Roxchelle Paradiya”.
The InterGalactic Banking Clan was a large buzzing nest. A dark, liquid being of tar, that aggressively annihilated competition by consuming it. Every employee had a purpose. And while Roxchelle was honoured to become a part of it, and continue the legacy that her father had cleared the way for, she had never felt like her position had become a part of her identity. She didn’t know if Staergin knew her name. It wasn’t unlikely that a man of his position had seen her before on Holonet. Or that he would recognise the family name, but for now she chose just to be Roxchelle, free from the long grabbing claws of the IGBC.

“Aaaand… I happened to have found… a THING. I believe it may be of your expertise”.
She unzipped the suitcase and, in its core, there was a droid. Bent and crammed up in the little space. Full of damage from both blunt and sharp objects. It clearly didn’t work any more.

“It was found in a kind of holy place”.
If you could call the study of Froridian Paradiya holy. At least, it had seemed like that until his passing, and even as a child Roxchelle would be scolded for getting near that corridor.

“I have a feeling, it may have been of importance”.

@Olwin

 

[Aharon Staergin]

Aharon's own blue eyes could not take themselves away from the woman ahead of him. His heart and mind were wired differently, but he knew atleast physical attraction when he saw it. Her curly hair, long and as copper as the mineral itself. Her form looked as if it was carved by an artist searching for perfection. But it was her eyes, the small emeralds that pierced into his very heart and would never let go, that gripped him the most. Their color was vibrant and lively, they showed the small hints of fire inside of her. Those two spoke more about her than any social media doom scrolling Aharon could ever do. If he was like most men, he would be head over heels for her, and at the moment he felt he atleast found someone he could enjoy seeing more of. A rare complement, as most biological beings tended to not draw Aharon's attention.

After a moment, his eyes moved down to the bag and the happiness and pure joy/bliss that they radiated vanished. His face turned from a happy smile to a look of shock and horror. Not with the woman however. He quickly rushed over to her and grabbed the Techno Service Droid from her, not forcefully but more like one would grab a sick or injured child. He softly cradled it in his arms, holding the limp head in his hands.

"Oh, my. What did they do to you little one? You were defenseless, who could do such a thing?" He carefully looked the machine over in his hands, his fingers gently searching over the crushed and stabbed portions of the chassis. One single stab, straight through the chest and into the core. Thats what probably did it. The bludgeoning and stabs that were around most likely did nothing to the poor droid. He softly blinked out of his guilt driven daze, as he turned back up to the woman ahead of him. This tragedy would not stand. This little droid will live again, and be stronger than ever.

"I... I will do my best to repair this little one. They are not as common as they used to be, but I will make sure to find the closest parts to the originals to bring this beauty back. You will be ahead of all my other projects." He paused for a moment, his persona he shows to the galaxy would not do this for free. He, after all, showed himself to be ladies man. So he had to act like one. "Though this will cost you... stay for dinner. I can fly us to a nice resturant in my space port, they already have a table reserved for me so they wouldn't mind a second guest sitting with me. It also has plenty of vegan options, and if none of them appeal to you the chefs always can take orders that aren't on the menu."

He did do his own research on her, as she doubtlessly did on him. She was vegan, she had that pet vorpak, and she was a rather unique woman. He wanted to see if they could both be unique... together.

@Moon Nymph

 

[Roxchelle Paradiya]

A small jerk went through Roxchelle’s shoulders, when Aharon took the droid and she held her head aslant. It was not the fact that he removed the droid from her, but the vast emotion that for one moment became visible. She couldn’t presently understand the reasoning behind it, for to Roxchelle it was just a smashed tool that was found among dusty holo books, notes and exotic items from worlds she never had explored. And residue of green blood. But she recognized the display of tenderness in Aharon. And some… pain?

The droid was a part of a puzzle she tried to collect, and she was desperately grasping for any shape of understanding - anything to make sense in all of this. So, when the suggestion – or rather requirement was presented, Roxchelle gawked by the sheer audacity. For a couple of seconds, she looked over her shoulder and wondered how fast she could get back to the main entrance of the building, if she ran fast enough.

But no. No.
That was not an option. She knew her mind forever would be restless with unease of what the broken droid could hold of secrets. And with that would follow regret. She could take it to someone else. But in doing so, she would risk breaking it, if handled roughly and without knowledge.
It wasn’t the first time the young lady had been in a situation like this. Neither was it the first time someone made an aggressive move on her, kind of an ultimatum, and when the initial shock had settled, she shook it off her like water of a duck’s back. Going along would be a networking opportunity that would be a shame to miss. A missed opportunity of one of his projects being used by a different faction. Her superiors wouldn’t be very satisfied, if word got around.

Roxchelle stepped closer to the tall man in front of her, narrowing her eyes slightly. The hint of a grin spread across the plump lips.

“Very clever… How did you figure that out?”
Mr. Staergin would either have bribed someone to get that information. Or would be very handy and have the dedication of a mad man, when it came to collecting data on social media. She had a purpose when it came to collecting info on the individual in front of her. What was his purpose with her, even before she arrived? And exactly how much did he know? What did he find? The thought was intriguing that he had gone to great lengths to achieve this.

“I could have sworn it has been years since I posted anything remotely close to activism”.

@Olwin

 

[Aharon Staergin]

Aharon only partially noticed the woman's reaction to his small outburst, a momentary lapse in character. He cleared some room from the cart that he had had his shirt on moments before and sat the crippled droid corpse down onto it. It would be a long process to actually repair this droid, but it should not be a hard one. He knew that she was not too keen on droids, so he turned his eyes down to the short humankid mouse-like droid and spoke in some foreign tounge which made it slowly skip-walk away.

"I myself actually am a vegetarian, though this reaturant is known for their tender cuts of meat I have them purposefully send in cuts of plant-based meat products." He paused after he finished up, seemingly caught up in trying to word what he would say next. He already knew it, word for word in fact, but he was mostly trying to make it appear less weird what he was going to say. Aharon decided to go with a more flustered approach with his head slightly tilted down so he looked slightly up to her and with small and shallow movements to show nervousness.

"And to be quite honest, back in your old modeling days you were the inspiration for my conversion, so I presume a thank you is in order for that. It really has helped with keeping my figure the way it is today." He slightly tilted his head to the side and gently nodded as he spoke, the tentacles on either side of his head softly bobbing with the movement. His eyebrows raised a millimeter or two with this motion, showing the embarrassment yet the sincerity he wished to show.

"I haven't been watching much of your recent stuff, I somewhat stopped around the time you moved out of the whole activism scene. Not that any of your latest posts have been bad or anything, they just feel too... corporately controlled and clean. That same fire that was in those old activism posts was what drew the younger me to them, and it's clear you still have it in you as you stand here before me. I guess some of those people you look up to are actually good to meet after all." He spoke with some boyish charm, quickly speaking when he tried to recover from any perceived slight. All according to plan, down to the smallest motion.

He of course was not lying to this attractive woman when he spoke, but indeed he wasn't telling the whole truth and he tried his hardest to keep that hidden. He did recently go through most of her social media he could find, studying her preferences and habits. He did that to any guest he had, to tailor what would be done and consumed for best guest comfort. This is why he chose the specific resturant for the evening, the Dorsia. Any other place on his dock would have merely surficed, but the Dorsia had simply the best atmosphere of the places he owned planetside. Of course he would have to shuffle around who was on the schedule today to best suit his presence, but that would be the easy part.

@Moon Nymph

 

[Roxchelle Paradiya]

For a moment Roxchelle didn’t say anything, but watched the indigo Chagrian in front of her with intrigue of the little things he revealed, and she smiled her approval. But her body posture stiffened the very moment he mentioned her modelling career, eyes widening, squaring her shoulders. Readying her defences mentally. But the attack she expected would come her way never came. There were no stingy comments, nor condescending tone. Instead, his body language was soft, like his voice that revealed flatter. And she lowered her shoulders again.

”Oh, you mean… those pictures”
Roxchelle exhaled through her nose to suffocate a small snicker and broke eye contact shortly. During the first many years on the boarding school, she had tried to seek boundaries and break them. It then seemed like the only thing she had full control over was her body. Her mind was something to be bent and shaped into what someone else had deemed suitable. It was a silent anarchy that happened without the knowledge of her father, when she agreed to model for the first pictures, hiding behind a name that symbolized either wealth or symbolic value, Goldie. Other collaborations had followed those first steps.

“Thank you… A lot of things have happened since then. I no longer represent myself, but something that is bigger than my person. I can’t do whatever I please. I have a responsibility that goes beyond me. Not only professionally, but as the last of my lineage with pride”.

She rose the glass to her mouth and used the champagne as an opportunity to think.
“But with that I accept your business proposal. On one condition. I pay for my own expenses” she required with a challenging spark in the emerald green eyes, returning the little smirk on her lips.

An escalating grunting somewhere in the dim light behind Aharon could be heard, and the screeching sound of something metallic that was dragged. The stubborn Voorpak had taken advantage of the missing surveillance, and had found a droid leg that he now tried to get away with, growling triumphantly.
Until the leg was caught between two shelves. That, however, didn’t change the mind of the round furball. And he continued to run without getting anywhere.

His young owner didn’t correct this behaviour. Instead, she laughed, as it was nothing.
“Oh, and Chubby only drinks sparkling mineral water from Naboo. He has a sensitive stomach”.

@Olwin

 

[Aharon Staergin]

When the little over four foot tall LEP servant droid saw the nightmarish creature called "Chubby" run after him with the scrap droid leg, well he was absolutely afraid. The tray slipped from his hands as they rose above his head, his tiny legs running as fast as they could as he squealed in terror. The mouth with legs wanted to eat him! He was going to die! His little legs ran as fast as they could, barley outpacing the small terror's rampage. He had to go as fast as he could, lest the jaws of this tiny leviathan would tear him bolt from bolt!

Aharon was about to say something, even having his mouth slowly open to speak and his hand slowly moved out, before the metallic grinding and the screeching took over the air. He obviously turned his the left side of his head towards the noise, a small smile breaking parting his lips as he knew what the squealing was. And by that he could piece together the situation. His tone would not be . "It seems his mouth isn't as sensitive as his stomach. Probably has some piece of junk metal I was going to have smelted down and sold to local construction projects. It also seems he is chasing that poor old LEP who served us, the poor lad is scared of his own shadow." And right on que, the LEP ran right between the two. It was still screaming and flailing its arms about, somehow miraculous not knocking into the two biological beings that towered above it.

The thunk of the leg getting stuck was audible to Aharon as he began to move back towards wherever it originated from. There he saw the vicious vorpack, gnawing on essentially the bones of a cybernetic leg. All the servos and wiring and plating and motors were stripped out, leaving only the base behind. And somehow this tiny little beast picked it up and ran with it. Aharon knealed down as his hand approached Chubby, softly trying to stroke its head as he moved his other to try and unwedge the leg from the shelves. "I also agree to your terms, I would expect nothing less than that from you. Now, let us get this little nightmare back in mommy's arms." He spoke softly and endearingly with the last sentence, the "little nightmare" being no more than a jest.

@Moon Nymph

 

[Roxchelle Paradiya]

It didn’t take long for Roxchelle to react and follow behind, when Aharon walked back towards her stubborn pet. Interesting enough, she wasn’t in a hurry to help avoid the destruction of his property, until she saw that he took the initiative himself. It was also with a slight worry for her precious animal, that made her move. With the arms resting on her hips, she looked disappointed to Chubby and squatted down to help, of what the short green dress allowed without sliding further up than her thighs. A lace band could be glimpsed, but maybe of greater importance to notice, was the handle of something metallic that glittered against her tan skin. A stiletto knife.

“I’m so sorry, Mr. Staergin. I don’t know what is with him. He is always like this. I think he has seen things, and it has changed him. He’s just playing”.

She looked nervously from the animal and to Aharon. And while Aharon tried to nudge the droid leg free from the shelves, Chubby had no plan to let go of it. He growled in response to the soft pat on the head, but otherwise didn’t budge. And he continued to growl louder, once the pat persisted.

“In his own way. He’s still a pup at heart… Here, let me help with that”.

Roxchelle placed her hand gently on top of Aharon’s and closed her fingers around it and the droid leg. Then moved to pull in the same direction as him, and with the united effort, it budged. With the Voorpak hanging from it.

@Olwin

 

[Aharon Staergin]

The flesh of the Chagrian was very cold on first contact, the result of being a rather aquatic species. Not to the extent of an arctic glacier but more a glass flute of ice water. But as the female pressed further into his hands it slowly felt warmer. His skin was rather soft and supple, owing to a rather extensive morning routine of self care. He spent many hours a week taking care of his skin alone both inside and outside of the bacta baths he regularly took. With Aharon ahead of Roxchelle as they lifted in unison she could feel his musculature work. It was clear his clothes covered a rather well kept frame, and it was also clear that he was dedicated.

Aharon noticed the silver glint as the female bent down to assist him, his eye quickly glancing over to it before turning right back before she would notice. He took note she was not someone to mess with, though that was already something he knew from their conversation. The pets stopped as soon as the leg was lifted high above the shelves, Aharon hoping the soft growls of the Voorpak would quiet down. Aharon's hand slowly reached for the bolt that kept the lower leg attached to the thigh and began to unfasten the pieces of metal. He decided to hand the leg over for a toy as he had plenty of spares around.

"Here," his voice was soft and reassuring to the small creature, "there you go. You can have that. It seems you already like it." His attention quickly turned back to the female beside him as he spoke, his voice now shifting from talking to a small child soft to making sure that they don't get upset. "He seems to have some spunk in him. He is a rather odd ball, I like him." That was an odd thing for him to say. Usually biological beings are mildly amusing to him at best. This one was no exception, it was a rather annoying and vicious beast that was terrorizing his droids. Yet, because of "Chubby" being Roxchelle's, he found it quite cute. He didn't understand what was going on with him around this woman, but he was not minding it.

Going back to her earlier comment about the check, he returned her smirk nearly one to one as he spoke. "I also agree with your condition, and do not worry I never was going to offer to pay for yours. Now, if you do not mind me, I wish to freshen up before we head out. I don't know about you, but after all that running around I am famished."

@Moon Nymph