Ask Plot Coruscant Crossing Party Lines

[It0]

[ T H E M E ]
​

CORUSCANT
VERITY DISTRICT
BLACK LINE // TRAIN 38.A

His cached memory placed his last visit to Coruscant at an estimated sixty-three standard years prior. The intrinsic desire for organics to change and evolve was reflective in their chosen environments. The soaring spires of the Coruscant he remembered were accompanied by great, ambling domes and spheres, adorning the sprawling cityscape with a sentient-pleasing curvature. And every perceivable surface was dotted in a dazzling tesselation of shimmering lights. Each light undoubtedly represented a life. Millions upon millions of stories co-existing in a framework of chrome and durasteel.

But from within the hover-train’s interior, it resembled little more than a blurred mosaic. A smeared urban evolution that the 2-1B found, quite frankly, rather dull. Despite his presence on the polestar of the Core Worlds, It0 found himself ticking the minutes until he returned to Nar Shaddaa. The Smuggler’s Moon was a dark reflection of Coruscant in many ways, but imbued with a humming tension that he found himself already longing for. The world darting past the windows of Coruscant’s Black Line hover-train seemed sterile by comparison. Almost soulless. The irony a droid drawing such a distinction was utterly lost on him.

Per usual, only his work offered succor in the face of such tedium. His benefactor Zentripoli, and the Five Syndicates et al., had received alarming reports from the Galactic Capital. Alarming enough, it would seem, to coax them into an uneasy alliance and find them convened on the ecumenopolis with the shared goal of unseating this upstart Drellis Syndicate. It0’s own focal point in this endeavor was a local politician adept at pulling strings on the behalf of his illegitimate associates. While Drellis goons worked diligently to mine power and influence from the streets of Coruscant, Senator Marty Balzeek smoothed the way for such efforts. Utilizing his extensive network of contacts and graft credits, the good senator expended a mighty effort in clearing obstacles and sweeping up messes for the Drellis. And all on the public dime!

The medical droid had no way of knowing how suited he was to the challenge ahead. But of the identified schemes meant to provide the Five Syndicates leverage on Coruscant, it was the one he felt most well suited for. It was preferable to gang warfare through noxious clouds of gas in the Works District in any case. He was no soldier. His medical license was still valid for Kriff’s sake!

It was apparent that was precisely the notion that had him end up paired with a bit of ‘muscle’. A foot-soldier in his own Crymorah. Zentripoli had offered little more than a rendezvous point and the enigmatic promise that ’He’ll recognize you’. As the maglev train approached the station, the 2-1B hoped that would be the case. Beyond the train’s darkened windows, the Verity District appeared unassuming. It’s soaring spires housed the halls of influence in Coruscant. Powerful beings resided there. The fates of millions of sentients were decided every day in those sparkling towers. Somewhere out there lay his target and perhaps the Crymorah’s first foothold into a much larger world.

The train’s doors slid open and It0 stepped onto the bustling platform beyond.

@Vipe

 

[Pidge Batana]

Pidge tapped her foot impatiently. Of course, she wasn’t surprised the Black Line train was late, Coruscanti Public Transit never ran on time. She knew it all too well, having to constantly use it herself to get around her home planet. It occurred to her for about the hundredth time that she really should invest in a speeder. Not only would she get places on time, but she wouldn’t have to walk as much in the mucky lower level streets, puddled with oil and other mystery substances that reeked of sewage and rot. It was a blessing her boots were water sealed, or the sludge stains would’ve never come off, even with the hours of scrubbing she had applied.

Pidge had, as per usual, been kept mostly in the dark about her assignment. It had been a hologram from Zentripoli she had received the previous night that had contacted her, asking her to accompany ‘a droid and an alien man’ (no more specifics, unfortunately) on a mission to contact a certain senator, Marty Balzeek. Specifically what type of contact to be made was unclear. She had only been told to await her two partners in crime- or rather business partners at the Transport Station in the Verity Sector.

The only time Pidge had ever visited the district was as a child on a school trip. They had gone to see a parade for life day there. The sparkling city that Pidge recalled was suddenly before her and she couldn’t help but admire it. The skyline looked like an advertisement to visit the planet. Multi-colored lights danced in the sky, and neon lights flashed. Where the reaching spires of tall buildings left off, stars took over, glistening, a mirror to the city of lights. Speeder traffic whizzed by and a few luxury cruise vessels hung in the air like shimmering clouds. Even the ground beneath Pidge’s freshly cleaned boots was shining marble. Knowing the Verity Sector was fancier than her own neighborhood, Pidge had purchased a draping silver shawl to cover her vest. She also had put on her best chromium headdress with turquoise stones on delicate chains that draped across her lekku. Hopefully she would blend in seamlessly enough.

Just as Pidge was about to leave the station for a short walk and a drink, the train finally pulled up. Out of the slew of passengers came a medical droid. There didn’t seem to be any other droids that would fit the bill for the job, yet the choice for a med droid was a bit odd. Casually, she strolled towards it.

 

[It0]

The hovertrain’s passengers edged by him in a steady current, their thoughts undoubtedly turned towards the banal particulars of their evening plans. Soon It0 found himself alone in the midst of the marble platform, photoreceptors scanning the dim recesses of the station for signs of his contact. With little to go on beyond mere gender, the droid found himself at a bit of a loss. Had the man failed to show? Organics could be such fickle creatures.

He briefly considered his options. Senator Balzeek undoubtedly kept offices throughout Coruscant, but the scant intel they had been provided listed the Verity District as home to his most frequented. IF It0 eventually made contact with his co-conspirator in this endeavor, the first order of business would surely be to set up surveillance of such offices. Patterns and behavioral sequences needed to be observed, recorded and cataloged before any meaningful action could be undertaken.

It0’s clientele had spanned every imaginable demographic throughout his century of service, and no small percentage of those patients had been influential sentients. There was strong correlative data to suggest that the same personality traits that drove organics to positions of power often caused such beings to seek out the extremes of aberrant behavior in their recreational pursuits. The 2-1B had little concern over whether or not the good senator had skeletons in his closet. Even in its absence, such deviancy could be easily manifested.

A young female Twi’lek emerged from the station’s shadows and ambled cautiously towards him. Specifics on his contact were sparse but Zentripoli had specified a male. His photoreceptors flickered curiously. Best to ward her away and avoid discovery.

“I beg your pardon madam,” he said as she drew within earshot. “As a physician I must recommend you keep your distance. I am quite deranged.”

@Vipe
@Pidge Batana

 

[Vipe]

Vipe was just about to finish mopping up the floor with a seventeen years old boy. He regularly sold spice to underage humans. From time to time, someone took the liberty of forgetting the pay. And due that, Vipe was not late. Late of something much more important, than some junkie who owed fifty credits.

As expected though, the train didn't come on time. Luckily Vipe nearly made it, once he saw the droid and the timetable he counted they had arrived minutes ago.

Pidge was a nice surprise, unexpected but always welcomed. Vipe walked up to the duo and casually wrapped his arm around the Twi'lek's shoulders. "Hey guys," the alien said. "Hope your ride went fine. Do you know Pidge?"

 

[Pidge Batana]

Pidge gave the droid her best smile. “Fear not, I worked in triage with many of your programming. I know you are unable to harm a sentient. Besides, I was supposed to meet you here. I got notified last minute, although clearly you weren’t notified at all. My name is Pidge Batana. See, Vipe knows me.” She threw him a smile as he wrapped his arm around her. Vipe, like most criminals, was an acquired taste of friend. He was obnoxious, flirty, and slimy. He was also reliable, funny, and good at his job. He had once convinced Pidge he did waste management.

“To be honest, I’m parched. Shall we head to get a quick drink? Who knows who we might run into.“ Pidge had been devising a plan in the back of her mind since she had heard of the high class, important senator. That type usually also led a certain type of nightlife. The kind that involved dancers, too many drinks, and private rooms. Slicing was one of the best ways to gain sensitive information, but buying it was almost as effective and Pidge knew from experience, party performers knew more than anyone suspected.

 

[It0]

“Madam, I can assure you the removal of violence inhibitors is so simple a procedure, even a Wookie could manage it!”

Despite his protests, another appropriately transient-looking sort ambled up from the nightscape and proceeded to drape himself over the young Twi’lek designating herself as ‘Pidge’. Their explanations, if not entirely convincing, were at least consistent with one another. His analytics put the odds of two random sentients recognizing his presence as indicative as a ‘meeting’ as exceedingly low. He turned his cranial unit inquisitively towards the Rattataki male and studied him a moment. The man had a certain capable, if shiftless, quality about him.

“I have only just met Ms. Batana.” he replied, “I am 2-1B serial number ‘IT-721X-00-079-21B’, designation ‘It0’. And you are?”

Had he a brow, he would have furrowed it at Pidge’s suggestion.

“I’m afraid I don’t drink.” he replied curtly, “I would much prefer to begin our tasking. Detailing Senator Balzeek’s behavioral patterns will require scrutiny, diligence and time. I cannot see how imbibing the output of fermented grains will aid us in this endev--”

His etiquette matrices read the scorn on their stridently organic features and he stifled a resigned sigh.

“...I suppose one drink couldn’t hurt.” he relented.

@Vipe
@Pidge Batana

 

[Ediwa]

Vipe extended his right hand towards It0, but reluctantly. Shake hands with a droid? Whatever, now that he offered a handshake he won't let his hand down. "My name's Vipe," the alien said. "Nice to meet you."

Having a drink never hurts, but Vipe wanted to avoid going back to the same place where he beat up that kid earlier. "I know a place, this way!" Vipe pointed at the opposite direction.

 

[It0]

It0 accepted the handshake blithely and fell in step with the organics as they descended the stairwell from the station's main platform. Everything about the Verity District put the droid's audio-visual circuits on edge. Marble and stone seemed favored over far superior materials such as blastcrete or durasteel. Surfaces were oddly absent of trails of graffiti or intricate webs of etchings. It was as though he were navigating through some great outdoor museum. He found it patently distasteful.

"Are you both Coruscant natives?" he inquired as they set off down a stretch of catwalk. "I'm local to Nar Shaddaa and rarely make it to the Core Worlds. Though I suspect if we're successful in our objectives, that may not be the case much longer."

A vast strobe of light spilled across them, stretching their shadows across the face of a nearby apartment building. It0 glanced towards its source only to see a luxury liner drifting turgidly over the cityscape. His photoreceptors returned to his new companions.

"I am uncertain how to process such a thing."

@Vipe
@Pidge Batana

 

[Pidge Batana]

Pidge smiled at the clearly uncomfortable droid. Droids didn’t really have much opportunity for expression or body language, but It0 was exuding such disdain towards his environment and the prospect of getting a drink, Pidge found it disconcerting his face still displayed the placid, calming expression of a med droid. She was reveling in the luxury and she even let herself dance a bit in the strobe light as their forms were projected onto a nearby building.

“I am indeed a Coruscant native. The hustle-bustle of the city has kept me around, not to mention, I need to be close to my contacts for work.“

The teal Twi’lek was very curious as to why Vipe was so exceedingly excited to lead them to a Cantina of his choice. Perhaps he had already managed to get kicked out of several. Not that it mattered, news of which official did what while drunk still spread through the grapevine. She strolled along the mirror smooth catwalk smoothly until they reached the etched doors of the cantina. A few bouncers stood outside, looking stoic and a tad bored. She wondered what would happen if she whipped out a brick of spice directly in front of them. She doubted they would even blink.

Looping her arm through Vipe‘s, she immediately stepped into her part. She winked at passerbys, exaggerating her hip movements and running her hands down her lekku, face, and neck. Of course, she had no interest in any of the patrons, but the dancers were more likely to talk if they thought she was like them. The performance she had previously used to pick up drunk clients was now the one she was using to fool the performers. She hoped. Realizing it was likely both Vipe and It0 had no idea why her demeanor had just changed, she casually whispered to both. “Just play along”

 

[It0]

“What precisely is your line of work?” he inquired. Unfortunately his reply was entirely lost to the ’untiss untiss untiss’ of the unrelenting club soundtrack. Everywhere It0 looked, sentients laughed, shouted, gyrated and danced. The atmosphere felt different here. Charged. Whether with pheromones, perspiration, spice residue or a mixture of all three, the medical droid could not tell. But either way it was much more akin to Nar Shaddaa than anything he had yet experienced since his arrival.

“Just play along!” the Twi’lek was instructing over one bouncing shoulder.

He briefly considered increasing the angle of his hip-flexors thrust but it was clear his gyro-balance would be insufficient for such an act. So instead he simply fell in line behind the pair and silently absorbed the raucous atmosphere. Sentients in various states of arousal. Sentients practicing duplicitous seduction techniques. Sentients on the verge of a chemical-induced blackout. It was all quite fascinating in a tawdry, lurid sort of way.

Interesting as it was, it still struck him as frivolous, given the urgency of their tasking. What value could this spice-addled demographic possibly offer them? Ahead of him, Vipe and Pidge flounced arm-in-arm through the dance floor, cutting through the swath of revelers with ease.

“Ms. Batana! Mr...errr...Vipe!” It0 called, nearly straining his vocabulator. “Precisely who or what are we looking for?”

@Pidge Batana
@Vipe

 

[Pidge Batana]

Pidge almost rolled her eyes. The poor droid was clearly not very good with subtext. Letting go of Vipe she flounced over to It0 and draped one arm over his shoulder. “It0, we’re looking for people who may have been in contact with the senator. You know... canoodling and stuff. The illegal type of stuff. I’m going to go talk to the dancers for hints. Vipe is probably just gonna flirt. This is our first step in getting blackmail. Perhaps you can look into the records by the cashier and see if he’s made any large deposits recently. I’m need to see whether any of the girls here know him”.
With that, hoping the explanation was clear enough, Pidge danced over the floor and headed to a group of young performers on break. She slowly made her way into their circle and introduced herself.

“I’m Pidge. I am also dancer, but not here. There’s this guy who wants to pay me a little on the side, a senator. Know anything about him? I was wondering if her ever came here.” The lie slid easily off her tongue. She just hoped the other women would care enough about her imaginary predicament to help. Nervously, she glanced at It0. She didn’t need him blowing her cover. Hopefully Vipe wouldn’t be too obnoxious, either. He was quite the flirt.

A tall Twi’lek dancer scrutinized Pidge. “You don’t look like a dancer, hun. You have a blaster. Why are you bothering us? Do you think you’re better than us? Prove it and I’ll tell you what you want to know”
So, the dancers weren’t quite as friendly as anticipated. However, Pidge needed to extract any valuable information they knew.
“I’ll dance one song, but not on stage and I’m not changing. Then you’ll talk” She just hoped Vipe and the droid were too busy to notice what her business was.

 

[It0]

It0 was still in the process of parsing the term ’canoodling’ through his linguistics database when Pidge bounced off in pursuit of her own goal. The nonplussed medic was left stranded in a sea of writhing bodies with no clear method of self-extraction. Without Vipe and Pidge to clear the way, the toddling droid was hopelessly bounced and bumped out of any sense of forward momentum. He had just circumnavigated a pair of particularly amorous Ferroans when he collided with a rather tall human in a particularly dated karkarodan-skin suit.

“Oh excuse me!” It0 exclaimed, turning to head the other way.

But no sooner had he turned than a squat, green Rodian in a blue karkarodan-skin suit bumped into him. The 2-1B staggered backwards only to be bumped once more by the human. He continued that way for several prolonged seconds, pinballing shakily between the two besuited dolts.

“I beg your pardon!” he protested.

The human, who reeked of body odor and deathsticks, brushed his nose with his fingers and grinned dully.

“Who me??” he exclaimed, before pointing towards his rodian colleague and then back at himself. “Him?? Me?? Him??”

“I must insist y--” but the Rodian was already bouncing off his chassis on the other side and It0 lost his train of thought. Through the darkness he could barely make out Pidge’s silhouette, stood defiantly before the group of dancers. The humiliation he would endure if she were to return with some pertinent bit of information to find him stuck between two dancing imbeciles was simply more than his behavioral circuitry matrix could bear.

He thrust a manipulator forward and clenched the human’s jacket collar, pulling him close enough to be heard.

“Please refrain from touching me!” he insisted. The human twisted in his grip and flitted his fingers across his nose.

“Who?? M--”

It0 jerked hard on his collar. Hard enough for the man’s head to momentarily snap back.

“If you say ‘Me?’ once more I’ll be forced to crush your windpipe beyond all operability.” he stated. The human’s eyes widened and a line of sweat erupted on his brow. Satisfied, It0 released him and was pleased to see he and his compatriot dissolve into the crowd. Emboldened, the med droid shouldered forward and in a few minutes time had reached the bar.

@Vipe
@Pidge Batana

 

[Pidge Batana]

Pidge felt humiliated as she danced. The dancing itself was not shameful, in fact it was a beautiful and daring line of work it be in. But it was no longer her work. Still, she let the low, jazzy tune flow through her, extending her arms, isolating her rib cage, and letting her feet take her forward and back. The song mercifully ended and Pidge dropped her dazzling smile, turning back to the dancers.
“Good enough for you?” She had asked in a light, joking tone, but she hoped the answer was yes, especially because she wasn’t getting credits.

“I must say, Pidge, I am impressed. You clearly have some experience. No wonder Senator Balzeek is interested.” The woman was much friendlier now that Pidge had apparently proven herself enough of a performer to accepted into their little clique. Even the professions that were looked down upon in this sector were exclusive, and it made Pidge a little sick. What would they have done if they weren’t satisfied with her story?

“Mister Marty has come around here a few times, so you are not his first accessory. He’s loaded. I’d be careful though. In fact, one of our girls is off for the next few weeks because... well... you know. He probably has at least three unclaimed children by now. It’ll be four soon.“ She swatted at Pidge’s stomach jokingly. Pidge, revolted and offended didn’t even offer a “thank you“ as she stormed off towards the others. She’d gotten as much as she needed and a bit more than she wanted.
However, as she approached It0, she found no one seemed to want to be near him. In fact, the bartender looked downright terrified.
“Manage to get anything?”

 

[It0]

The droid’s cranial unit spun around as the Twi’lek materialized from the crowd behind him. His efforts thus far had mostly amounted to a concentrated study of the backlit bar and the patterns of its harried staff.

“The billing system has an I/O port just there.” he gestured one manipulator towards a small socket, barely visibly beyond the bar’s inside edge. His vocabulator setting switched to a low, conspiratorial murmur. “But there appear to be far too many customers patronizing the bar. The staff pass by on average every 8.3 seconds.”

Even as they spoke, a frenzied bar-back rushed past them, snatching a bottle of Corellian Brandy from the backlit shelves behind the bar. Without missing a step, she spun on her heels and stalked off back down the length of the bar, barely stopping to refill patrons’ empty glasses as she went.

“Connecting to the systems databanks shouldn’t prove difficult, but I’ll need a little time.” his internal processor hummed at some unspoken calculation. “Approximately 23 seconds should suffice.”

His photoreceptors scanned the bar, its patrons, and the staff before finding their way back to Pidge.

“Can you provide me the necessary distraction?”

@Pidge Batana
@Vipe

 

[Pidge Batana]

Pidge nodded. She doubted Vipe would, considering he was too caught up in drinking and revelry to be paying any attention. Gauging the crowd, she thought up a quick plan. It would have to involve getting the staff away from the register. The pounding music did nothing to clear her head. Thankfully, she had a full repertoire of distractions. The one most appropriate for the location and situation seemed to be the “Dramatically Downed Drunk Damsel”. She was quite proud of the name, she had to admit. She just needed to make her fall just as flashy.

“No problem”, she said as she walked quickly in the other direction. A few feet away from It0, Pidge stumbled into the staff member serving drinks, causing her to drop her bottle. Without missing a beat, she righted herself before spectacularly launching herself down a flight of three stairs. She had collapsed so compelling a few patrons gasped. The server looked at her wit’s end. Now she had glass to clean up as well as an unconscious body.

Of course, Pidge was fully conscious and completely unhurt besides a few bruises, and those were to be expected. The distraction had certainly drawn attention. Someone splashed a cold beverage on her face and another person loudly yelled at her. Still another person, clearly fraught with emotion from alcohol intake, began to sob, declaring, “She’s dead! Dead! We need to leave now!” Pidge had to bite her tongue to keep a straight face. She slowly stirred, pretending to be hurt. Hopefully everyone had come to see the commotion and It0 was alone. Although, she had to admit, being toted upon by half a dozen people as they helped her to a seat was quite enjoyable.

 

[It0]

He watched as she pitched herself wholeheartedly down the stairs before crumbling into a very convincing heap. Heads turned and necks craned as a shiver of panic began to metastasize down the bar’s length. Beside him, a particularly perturbed Anzati rose from her stool and wrung her hands. It0 cleared his vocabulator.

“The lesions along the base of her lekku are consistent with Brainrot Plague.” he announced loudly, “It has been going around.”

The Anzati turned her wide eyes towards the medical droid, released an audible gasp and began shouldering her way towards the exit. Despite the thunderous pulse of the music, the medical droid could make out alarmed shouts of ‘brainrot!’ as the rumor began to matriculate through the crowd. Organics had more in common with viral life than they’d ever know.

Working as his servos would allow, he produced a length of cord from the interface socket on his chest-plate and strung it across the bartop, snapping the connector into the I/O port just on the other side. The datastream came fast and heavy, endless characters spilling across his internal display like a digital curtain. As the sentients exchanged hysterical shouts, the 2-1B quietly replicated, compressed and stored as much information as his databanks would allow.

He popped the cord free just in time. A staffer with a glass of ice water came rounding the bar, her eyes glued to Pidge’s prone form. Internally, It0 was also parsing through the data by the time he descended the steps, parting the gathering crowd with his spindly durasteel appendages.

“Please let me through!” he cried shrilly, “I am a medical professional!”

The sentients drew back, looks of relief softening their stricken features. It0 knelt down next to Pidge and dropped his voice.

“Ms. Batana, I believe we have what we came for.” Somewhere in the rear of the room, security began to shout for people to move aside. “This may be a prudent time to make our exit.”

@Pidge Batana
@Vipe

 

[Pidge Batana]

Pidge figured she may have been a bit too convincing. A medic and security had been called. The Twi’lek stood up quickly. Clearly the droid had healed her because she had began forcefully making her way towards the door, much to the shock of everyone there. A few people practically jumped out of her way, not wanting to catch the ‘brainrot’. After an excruciatingly slow exit, Pidge made it out onto the street. She hoped It0 and Vipe were coming, but she needed to go. If caught, she could be placed in quarantine.

Pulling on her hood and mask, Pidge ducked behind a trash compactor generator to wait. “Let’s get somewhere private before we discuss... uh finances.”

 

[It0]

Outside the cantina, the evening had grown abruptly balmy. As his counterparts squatted behind the trash compactor catching their respective breaths, It0 re-parsed the dataset once more, confirming his findings. Analytics complete, he turned his attention towards Pidge and Vipe.

“I believe I saw an all night caf shop approximately two standard blocks back. Perhaps it may provide us a modicum of privacy?"

---

The caf shop, a dimly lit affair aptly named ’The Wired Wampa’, was both spacious and surprisingly devoid of customers. Whether it was due to the largely apathetic Artiodac behind the counter or the caf itself being of a particularly burnt strain, It0 couldn’t surmise. Likely a combination of both. The trio took a booth near the establishment’s rear where they sat cupping their mugs.

“I believe I may have identified a pertinent pattern.” It0 began when he was quite sure the visibly bored Artiodac was otherwise occupied. “Reviewing archived scheduling request logs I’ve found four separate references to ‘BactaMax Medical Facility’ from as many different female employees. It would seem whoever is in charge of archival data at the Cantina found this peculiar as they took time to flag the requests. They’ve also included security footage to the flagged files.”

His cranial unit tilted slightly, the droid approximation of a sheepish shrug.

“However, I’m afraid the security footage is encrypted to a degree that is quite beyond my capabilities. I can upload the files to a datapad…” He glanced between the pair. “...but we require the services of someone familiar with these types of matters.”

@Pidge Batana
@Vipe

 

[Pidge Batana]

Pidge was on it as soon as the droid mentioned encrypted files. They had entered a dark restaurant permeated with old grease and smoke. Even the air was hazy and thick. She pulled a droid adapter out of her bag and clicked it into her datapad. Dialing the knob to an input frequency, she asked It0 to access the adapter. Almost immediately, a popup appeared. [Employee Medical Expenses]>[BactaMax Medical Facility] Pidge opened the file. Indeed, four folders pinned to the top were flagged. A sub note had been attached, and after some decoding and translating through code, she saw it read “Balzeek clips- utilize for blackmail. He has cost us too much with medical bills for the girls. With this, I can make him pay double.“ Of course, Pidge could only guess the writer of the note and the record keeper who had so unintentionally aided them in their quest. They had wanted money.

Holding her breath, she clicked on the security footage. At first it came up black, but after messing with the security of the file and guessing the admin password (It was the fourth Cantina that had used some variation of ‘Jawa_Juice‘, they just made it too easy), Pidge was able to access the footage. She transferred it to an enhancer to clear the fuzzy edges and scrambled data, then let it play through.

A Twi’lek was standing outside a door, wringing her hands anxiously. Pidge sped the footage up until another figure appeared in frame. He looked like the senator, but she could tell by his wolffish smile he was an entirely different person than how he was presented on the holovids. Marty motioned for her to come in the door, but she shook her head and held out her hand. After counting the credits he had dropped into it twice, she opened the door and they walked in. Pidge again skipped through footage. Marty walked out, tucking in his shirt. The screen went black as the spliced together video continued. The date in the corner was different, five weeks later. The same Twi’lek was standing by the door. Marty appeared again, but this time they didn’t go inside. She looked terrified as she told him something. His face contorted in anger and he stormed out of frame. The girl crumpled and sobbed, her entire body heaving up and down in the blue scale of the video. Again, the video cut to black.

Pidge looked through the rest of the file resignedly. Everything was conveniently vague. Even the week leave given to the dancer 38 weeks after the first tape was was labeled as an ‘unspecified’ medical leave. The rest of the videos were much the same, an exchange of credits, a closed door, a sullen dancer. Looking at their files, one of the dancers had disappeared, two still worked at the cantina, and one was currently hospitalized for ‘Occupational Injury Complications’.

“I don’t think it takes a genius to figure out what is going on. Clearly, Balzeek is having affairs with some of the women at the cantina. He clearly also does not want the news to spread. He did not publicize the birth of his first bouncing baby. And I haven’t heard any news about the second of third either. This isn’t quite enough evidence though. We can’t say what happened because we don’t have actual proof, just assumptions.” For all her technological prowess, Pidge had hit a dead end. “Soo... What do we do now?”

 

[It0]

Suddenly, Zentripoli’s apparent insistence around Ms. Batana’s involvement in this effort made much more sense. As a droid with a functioning I/O socket, he was capable of extracting and reading file types common to most systems. But when it came to breaking encryptions, he had no security-specific programming to fall back on. Pidge was a valuable asset indeed. He would make a point to inquire around the circumstances of she and Zentripoli’s meeting.

“The clearest course of action is to acquire the hospital records.” he suggested, setting his vocabulator inflection to ‘conspiratorial’. “I’m not familiar with this particular facility, however I have visited the BactaMax offices on Nar Shaddaa in a professional capacity. They’re quite sophisticated and their networks are quite secure so far as I’m aware.”

He glanced down at Pidge’s datapad in a gesture analogous to reflection.

“I’ll admit I’m not overly-familiar with the capabilities of those in your field, but unless you know of a method of accessing a private network, I believe we would need to be on-premises to access the files from a storage node.” His photoreceptors flickered. "I hesitate to suggest such a thing. BactaMax is an industry leader in advanced medical services with facilities in a number of systems. I'm sure their security is quite lethal."

His servos whirled thoughtfully as he calculated their odds based on the limited data available.

"A medical droid and two sentients shouldn't draw too much attention. If we can find a free access terminal, perhaps you can extract the necessary data..."

@Pidge Batana
@Vipe