The snitch, the bar and the protocol droid(open)

[Almsey Belmont]

His training of the padawan over the past couple of weeks had been for the most part. Brutal. Harsh in some ways. But he felt that it was all too neccisary for her to realise what potiental she had, and break through into further mysteries. He knew of some Jedi masters who were like minded in this subject, others disdained it, thinking that by breaking their students they were utilizing training methods that were all too similar to the Sith. Almsey of course, disagreed with this. If one is to face the dark side, they must first see it. It was just the same as any other kind of battle. When you face an enemy multiple times you learn its strengths, its weaknesses. And how to combat it more effectively. This, he believed. Held true with the dark side.

Conversely by hiding some pupils from the dark areas of their life sometimes you did more damage than good. A pupil who had been presented with the temptation of the dark side before, will be more likely to reject it again in the future, especially when stakes are far higher. The first week had consisted mainly of hours of lightsabre sparring matches, in which he had praised every success, but harshly denounced each failure. The end result had increased her determination, or at least he saw as much. She would get perhaps half an hour to fourty five minutes as a break. Then they would move onto an hour of meditation, and after that onto the force training that would make his physical demands for her seem petty.

At the weekends he was begining to introduce her into his kind of life. On Dantoonine he'd guessed she'd not seen all too much of the kind of rotting cesspool of corruption and crime that existed on coroscant. But he'd change all that. At the weekends he'd started to bring her to bars, meeting certain informants of his that helped him during missions for the Jedi council. Now it was time for her to meet the snitch. The snitch, was of course just his name for the street ear. He'd never really caught the persons name, or if he had it was so insubstantial that he couldn't really recall. And of course, that was one skill that helped in his trade.

A sort of information broker. The snitch had his own network of intellegence, weeded around the coroscant underregions like a kind of paracitic fungus. He was ordinary looking, the kind of guy you'd never remember if he passed you in the street. In his own words that in itself was a kind of invisibility. All he had to do was make one minor change to his appearance and the effects were amazing. Take growing a beard. During one of his meetings the snitch had came in with a goatee and had even slipped by Almsey. Thats probably what made him so useful. The constant updates on the how and now on what was going on. Most of it was crap. But like most homeless people will tell you, sift through enough crap and your bound to find something valuable.

So here he sat. His padawan on one side, him on another waiting slowly at a table as per usual for the snitch to arrive. His eyes danced over to the girl. " He's very paranoid...so...I'll introduce you....". After another few seconds silence he followed up with. " I know you can't enjoy being here....criminals...corruption...the lusts of the underground trades....". He gestured to the semi naked dancers at that point. " But this is....part of being a Jedi...seeing the universe for what it is....the good...and the bad...". Moments later, a man approached and sat down. Almsey blinked for a moment and then began to put it together. The snitch. With a wide grin on his face. His nose had been somewhat disjointed. And he'd choosen to extend his goatee into full on facial fur. But that sickening smirk was undeniably him. " Well....". Almsey said picking up his drink and taking a sip. " I thought for a moment a wookie had decided to give us his company".

The snitch's smirk faltered, his eyes drawn to the girl. " Whos the broad?". Almsey mirrored the mans smirk and shrugged. " My Padawan". He eyed her, it looked liike a quick scan but he knew better. In those eyes there was a risk assessment. Following up was a smile. Good or bad thing. One could never know. " So they finally let you have one?, what did you do? Bend down and suc-". His hand came up, stopping the snitch midsentence. " Complete suprise...and the less you know about my personal life the better, and vice versa...isn't that your saying?". There was a brief nod from the grimy little man as he began to recant the usual dealings of business. Credits were passed across the table and the snitch began to talk about what information had passed by his well informed ears.

As was mentioned previous. Most of it was crap, useless stuf about the local crime lords and drug runners. But then sparked a piece of gold. He wondered if his padawan had picked up on it too. " so he says this, and kill that yata yata yata, someones a new pile of bantha fodder- something about an unlicensed droid down at 08, came in with no numbers, no memories, nothing. Just a bunch of encripted data on its memory core. Thing is apparantly just like a bank machine, asks for a password three times, you get it wrong the third time and the thing springs for you. Poor guy only found out after he bought it from the dealer under the shade ( his word for black market dealings), tried to see what kind of programming he could install, and when it asked he got too curious.Got returned to the dealers after the body was found, its been deactivated since. Strange thing is, everythings been kept on a big hush hush, no justice intervention or anything....apparantly theres a few people interested if you know what I mean..- Some more deathstick dealings down alleyway..".

He zoned everything out after the part about the droid. And began to focus on that. An untracable droid with an encripted memory core that killed whatever unfortunate master tried to unlock the encription and failed. That indeed was strange, considering most protocol droids had a pacifist program installed which put them down to a system of non violence. Such a program was usually part of the higher programming , so this meant one of two things, the droid was a custom model that had been built without such programming. Or the encripted information secruity system was designed to temp disable the pacifist behaviour upon a security failure or breach. And as if that wasn't strange enough. There was the lack of activity around this. Sure, murder wasn't exactally rare in these parts. But even so. A droid killing its master would surely have made it onto holonews. Once more his eyes moved to his Padawan. He would test her on this later. For now they had a place to start and an investigation to do.

The snitch, kindly left after he was finished. Packing up his credits. And disappearing into the night. Almsey sipped at his drink. “ So….Lamillia….what did you think of the snitch….”. He smirked. “ And…what of this droid?...give me your insight padawan…”.

[Apillis]

The harsh training Lamilia continued to push herself through, but like repeated problems of the past it was always telekinesis and telepathy that she struggled with most of all. Everywhere else, including lightsaber trying she was comfortable with - when it became harsh and a tough ordeal for her, to help her she fell back on the Perseverance Form's philosophies of enduring to see her through the exercises. Her greatest concern was not so much the difficult training itself, but more over, being a disappointment to her new master. That was her only real worry within her training. Harsh words for her mistakes only amplified her insecurities in that regard.

Being taken through the slums of the Galactic City was more than a jarring experience for her. It was alien to everything she had ever experienced before coming to Coruscant. Though she has next to no memory of it, Hapan is a beautiful lush planet where it is always daylight; and Dantooine was little more than a planet of farmers and traders, another planet ripe with life. This place while so filled with life is also so dead to it, it made almost feel ill at times. The city itself while lit up by the city lights, it is also darker - which was hard on her eyes because of her inherited night blindness from being born a Hapan. At times in some parts of the city she was forced to rely more on her perceptions within the Force rather than her own eyes.

All in all, it is a place that disturbed her immensely, and often did not like it, though never admitted as much - taking to holding her tongue, more out of being a disciplined pious young Jedi and upholding a sense of proper decorum than simply keeping to herself. What bothered her most of all was the smell. Whether it is an inherit part of being Hapan having an admiration for beauty, or maybe simply being a closet hygienic OCD case, the smell of the dregs of the Galactic City drove her bonkers. She hated it, she would never say out of fear of appearing rude, but absolutely loathed the dirty, acrid, putrid smell of the slums - she could never seem to shake it, and the vile scent of it all filled even the air she breathed. She could scarcely tolerate it no matter regardless of her keeping silent on the overall issue of the lower city levels' decay.

Within the dive that Alsmey lead them to, his mentioning his realization that she likely does not like it and his listing the reasons, were an understatement. But, she simply nodded in response, not wanting to be rude or callous, she held her tongue and refrained to comment on their surroundings. Everything about the place utterly disturbed her sensibilities.

When Almsey's contact finally approached, she kept silent the entire time, never uttering a word. Striving to be the proper Padawan in every regard, she viewed it was not her place to say anything. As the information broker told Almsey litany of troubles going on within the city. Lamilia found herself a bit overwhelmed by them, and found herself perplexed and lost with all that is happening. There is so much healing this place needs!

When the man at last left after giving them the info, Almsey, asking her what she thought of the information broker, she simply stated, "I do not think he is to be trusted, master.", and did not say any more than that to avoid appearing to be too discourteous toward someone who was not there and is one of her master's contacts. She then looked at her master out bewilderment when he asked her about the droid, her head tilted a little to the side she replied, "Droid? Oh... um... it is a disturbing case... I don't understand it.", these sort of thing went utterly over her head, hence why she was so overwhelmed. The problems she was usually dealt with till then were farmer disputes, trader issues, hunter problems, and domestic disruptions with simple, humble rural and suburban citizenry of Dantooine. This sort of case just went completely over her head.

[Almsey Belmont]

A flicker of annoyance ran through him at the look on her face, however it didn’t show on him, he was more controlled than that. He had to expect it really, all these things at once would overwhelm her. Such a cartload of information she hadn’t really built up her “ crap filter” as he thought of it. She would learn, with that his annoyance faded, he had to remember to be more calm and open. It was just based on the fact however that he rarely if at all worked with other people. Let alone mentored them. But he’d fit into this new chair as time passed. The “upholstery” just needed time to adjust. He looked at his padawan for a moment, her answer was of course a basic one. No real thought behind it.

“ Of course he can’t be”

He smirked and took another sip of his drink. “ But he’s useful...besides….I pay well….and he doesn’t want to make an enemy of a jedi”. He finished that sentence early. What he was going to say was that the snitch didn’t want to make an enemy of a jedi, like him. The snitch had seen Almsey in a fight. Sometimes he had to wonder if he was the cause of the fight. But he knew that when trouble came a knockin. Things usually got messy. He was the force equivalent of a sledge hammer. Back as a padawan one particular master had said as much. Brutal, effective. But with all the grace of a rusty wheel barrow. In some ways this made Lamilia his polar opposite. When they had started training her he had put forward the theory that she was applying the same technique of subtle concentration to telekenesis as she was to healing. And a pattern once formed was eternally difficult to break. He knew. He was a telekinetic prodigy. Very few knights ever reached the power he had with the telekinetic arts. The number was thinned even more when you took into account Almsey’s age.

However his skills at other force powers were either average or poor at best. All relative. That was the way of the force. He turned to Lamilia and decided that it would probably be best if he laid out the situation to her. An insight might sharpen her mind. He might even lead out a few problem exercises to build up her investigation abilities. “ Very well… lets go over what we know….there is a protocol droid that recently came into the hands of a dealer….over the counter sales are out of the question, because this droid. Strangely does not have a production number or identification of any kind….history is a blank, the memory core is wiped clean, aside from a single password locked program…but that comes later…”. He nods his eyes drifting over to the dancers. However he wasn’t looking at them. Rather past them. It was that sort of gaze that came to men in deep thought, as if they were staring at something a million miles away. “ The droid is sold through illegal means, but that happens a lot down here…petty crime and its not what interests us…what interests us is whilst the new owner pokes through the memory core to see what programs he needs to install he comes across that said locked program….it asks him for a password….3 attempts…3 failures…then…and this is the point we’re interested in…”. He looks back down to his padawan.

“ The droid then goes berserk….and wastes the new owner….”

He places his glass back down onto the table. “ As a result, the droid returns to the dealership…..more…shady interest rises….yet… no law enforcement or holonet attention…..”. There. He had laid out the bare facts for her. Now it was up to her to put them together. This was her test. He’d help if he needed to. But he had already come up with his own theories. So he began to ask his questions. “ First about the droid….”. He started there. “ Product registration and licensing absences can be put down to black market cover ups….But there are…discrepancies within the programming….for example the disabling of the droids pacifist programming after the breech in security….or even the fact a droid would be programmed with such a response to protect whatever data is stored in the program”. He smirked. “ Well you’ve got the base information Lamilia….I want you to work this investigation….tell me any theories you have concerning the droid…..and what would be your next step in following this investigation?”.

[Apillis]

Lamilia blinked in response with wide-open eyes of being more than a little bit overwhelmed as she looked back at Almsey. She is the Jedi equivalent of a medical physician-in-training or student nurse, this level of investigation was well out of her realm. She looked away thoughtfully staring off for a moment trying to think of something. Her knowledge about droids is lacking to the say the least, unless it deals with medical droids, then she may know a thing or two or three. However, with that she was able to think of something, every droid has a maker, and as with healing - only way to heal a wound is to get to its source.

It sounded like the major problem lay within black-market itself as the droid clearly had some sort of illegal programming, and the authorities or any other government organization was not trying to reclaim it; but instead were simply aiding the black-market in covering it up - meaning it was influence within the black-market being tied to this droid less than any government organizations or branches themselves. So more than likely it had to be a black-market dealer who created the thing in the first place. From the seems of it, it sounded like the root of the problem was primarily the program itself and less about the droid. As with medical droids, each model has its own unique programming, but it appears this programming is unaffiliated with the droid model.

After deducing this Lamilia finally spoke up, "Droid programs typically go by model, but this program doesn't seem to have anything to do with the droid model at all. Government authority branches aren't taking any action to claim it or reclaim it, just helping the black-market conceal it. So, it has to be an illegal program created by the black-market sense the government authorities aren't doing anything to take it back themselves. Everything just reverts back to black-market as the source of the problem. If it's an encryption issue within the program, then the logical person to ask about such a thing is a black-market slicer."

[Almsey Belmont]

She was confused, still even after his explanation. Clearly she hadn’t much experience in this kind of investigation. This he was slightly disappointed on, her old master should have dealt with at least some of this back in Dantooine, even if it was minor crime like theft between farmers. It was all part of the Jedi’s being peace keepers, sometimes information didn’t make itself readily available whilst on missions for the councils. He reminded himself to add this to her training. Problem solving and perhaps some expanded time studying droid components. However he didn’t show any of this on the outside. “ Indeed…some of what you say is correct…and it’s a plausible theory…however…there are others….for example….the droids lack of model number or product history may indicate that this droid is a custom model, and was initially built to these specifications rather than edited, of course the only people that would be able to afford such a custom model would be high up in either society, indicating an ambassador or a member of the senate….or high up in criminal society, both would explain the reasons as to why there is no serious law enforced interest…..and to why there are certain elements within the criminal underworld that are interested in it…”. He smirked.

“ Always remember that sometimes that the ‘good guys’ aren’t always what they seem….theres more than one senator whos more corrupt than the rear end of a hutt “.

He could only smirk as he stood. “ And your right….we should talk to a splicer…but that would only be after we check out this droid for ourselves….I want to get a good look at it…see if it’s a custom job…or a premade model like you suggested…”. He stood up and began to walk to the entrance of the bar when suddenly a feeling of dread washed over him. He stopped almost suddenly. His hand twitched. He brought two fingers to his head, another headache coming on. Agrivation, anger. All he pushed down trying to assert some sort of calm over himself. He knew that this was merely his own form of Jedi precognition. Many experienced it in different ways. His was just out of coincidence…painful. He knew that it shouldn’t have been. But unfortunately that was another result of his damaged psyche. He knew about what had happened in his infancy, he couldn’t remember it of course. But it explained a lot. Particularly some of his nightmares…and a few things on a subconscious level. Pain was usually a warning of what was to come. Last time he had came here and met the snitch a couple of heavies had jumped in and he’d taken care of them with relative ease and minor damages to the bar. However he had a feeling that this would be a little more difficult. This time it seemed they were waiting for him outside. His face twisted into a frown. When they reached the door he placed a hand on it and looked to Lamilia.

“ Try to be calm”

He’d say no more. If she sensed them, or at least the danger ahead she’d know what the message meant. If not, she’d soon get it after whatever battle they were walking into erupted. He pushed open the door, and immediately a sense of danger shot through him, he ducked just avoiding the swing of a large blunt object he drew back his arm and drove his elbow into the chest of his attacker. There was a wheeze that emerged from the mans mouth, at the same time Almsey focused his power bringing the lightsabre from his belt into his hand. Bringing his hand through the gap between the mans arm and torso he twisted, bringing the body around as two blaster bolts slammed into it. The man yelled in pain as the two searing bolts of energy burned into him.Almsey brought his foot up and kicked his meat shield forward into the man with the blaster. The second attacker stumbled, Almsey shot out his hand and with it sent a wave of telekinetic force out towards the man. It wasn’t the full power he was capable of, but it was strong enough to launch the man right off his feet and slammed him into a wall. A smirk crept up his face. He increased the pressure slightly. Cracks running up the wall the man was pressed against as the pressure increased against the bricks.

It was then he shook his head. Gathering himself and pushing away the thoughts of crushing the man. Those were thoughts of the dark side….he fought for calm. Eventually it won out and he flicked his hand to the side throwing the thug into a heap of garbage like a old rag doll. Injured. But alive. He didn’t say anything to Lamilia but rather kept walking down the road that led to the droid dealer. Still only two thugs. That meant he was low priority. Good. Although he had dealt with the situation as would be expected…he had held that man too long….and that smirk. He would have to meditate on it. The memory of his trial burned in his mind. The figure. Himself…covered in needles protruding from his flesh. “ You are part of me”. The words echoed throughout the empty corridors of his mind. Once more fear of failing Lamilia crept up in his head. But he pushed it away again….he wouldn’t fail. He wouldn’t end up like his master….

[Apillis]

The reasoning of it all confused her, she was aware their are corrupt officials, but if it were one: why have they not claimed this droid yet while using their speculated influence within the law enforcement branches? Rather than what has been happening which is leave it within the black-market which is where criminal organizations, such as the Hutts, who typically have more sway than any corrupt senator. None of it made any sense to her as she pondered on it. It truly was not her area - this entire was an alien aspect that she held little understanding for.

As they were to exit the bar, for an instant within her mind she perceived two figures outside of it - waiting for them both to exit the establishment, the two men were armed. All she felt within the image for that brief second was a sense of danger and dread. She gave pause for a moment, though her brow furrowed a little bit when Almsey told her to be calm. The moment they stepped the altercation only lasted but a second, the two men had no prayer against a Jedi - a smarter criminal would have known better than to send only a couple thugs. Even though Lamilia was a novice in this sort of thing at best, she knew enough to deduce while the attack meant the whatever criminal or criminal organization is behind this, fringe or Republic, they were aware of the two Jedi - but by sending a couple of thugs who could never stand against a Jedi, it also made it clear to the pair of Jedi that criminals were aware of them as well. A smarter criminal would have made it appear as though they were ignorant to the two Jedi.

The thug that suffered the Force push had to have been dead, to suffer such a strike to the point the wall cracked behind him, it is no different than being struck and pinned against the wall by a speeding truck. The other struck down by his own blaster fire lay dying, the burning plasma that struck him - Lamilia could feel it was causing him great agony as he lay dying. Calmly with a pitying gaze she walked over to him and knelt beside him, laying a hand on his chest she used a technique within the light of the Force - a simple kind of numbing healing technique to ease his suffering as he passed on only a trice later. She still lacked the talent to save a person's life that close to death, but she could at least ease their pain before they died.

Her eyes looked downcast when she felt him pass away not long afterward, it was like giving morphine to someone who was about to die and watching them pass only a few seconds later. She rose back up to a stand. Still with a somewhat downcast gaze she followed her master as he lead the way to this droid. She never uttered a word the entire time, it was clear - even the lost life of a lowly thug, she mourned when they died. Empathy and sympathy seemed to be something had in abundance, part of what came with her training perhaps, feeling the life of another, and filling it with the light of the Force to ease ones suffering. Truly the Hapan culture was something void of her being.

[sheila]

Sheila smiled, her face concealed by the darkness in the corner of the bar she had taken as her own. She was watching the Twi'lek dancers, remembering that it would have been her dancing for her master, being used and discarded at her master's whim, were it not for the force. The memories filled her with anger. She reveled in it, let it wash away her concerns. In anger, in hate, there lies strength, Sheila. There lies our power. She could remember Maulys's words even then, weeks after her dissapearance. So long without neither contact from nor word of her Master had convinced Sheila that Maulys had met some untimely end. She was sad, not only for the lost teachings to come, but for the loss of the only person on the underbelly of Coruscant she actually knew.

That being said, she felt pleasure in the slight subterfuge that occured every time she walked into the bar, her clothes leaving little to the imagination and stirring desires in the men who gazed upon her. It was almost palpable, their desire, and it felt good to Sheila, like a sweet kiss of flavor upon her tongue. However, that was not the reason she went to the bar that day. That day, she sought information. Lately Sheila had made use of Maulys's still existing web of informants. Though it had broken down slightly without the Dark Jedi's intimidating prescense, credits were still enough to purchase imformation. When was that not the case?

As such, Sheila was meeting with a contact at the bar who kept her up to date on the more important happenings in the underbelly of Coruscant. This contact was special, in a way, as the Bith could discern what might be of interest to Sheila from what would not, and didn't share the uninteresting bantha fodder. That's not what Sheila paid him for. As such, when the band took a small break, Sheila was not surprised when one of the musicians ordered a drink and sat down in the booth, opposite of Sheila.

She pulled out some credits, and laid them on the table in front of her, just out of reach of the Bith, and nodded, motioning for him to start. He nodded back, took a sip of his drink, and then leaned forward.

"Well, there has been little activities in this last month that you would be interested in. Two shipments of slaves coming in tommorow and three weeks from now, and some half-credit bounty hunter got fragged a couple days ago. Rumor has it he was after you, but no word on who hired him or who took him out. Also, there has been this malfunctioning protocol droid. No programs, nothing, but when ya' try to access core proccesses, it asks for a password. Three tries. Get it wrong three times, and it kills you. That info it's got has to be important for it to override the pacifist protocols." Sheila indicated her interest in the droid by pushing forward the credits, and the Bith told her the location of the black market shop where it was currently, took his credits and left.

Sheila stood up, and made her way out of the bar. She exited the bar just in time to see a man fly into a trash heap. She looked for the source, and saw a Jedi. Laying at her feet was a dying man, with blaster bolts in his back. A young woman knelt down, and then the man died. The woman made her way back to the Jedi, and they began walking. That was something worth investigating, and she could always go by the shop some other time. A Jedi and his padawan, in the slums of the planet, leaving a bar and fighting two-bit thugs warrented an investigation, and if Sheila didn't hurry they would be out of sight. So she stood up, and began to walk a good ways behind the Jedi, hoping that he wouldn't sense her presence. If he did, there was no way for her to tell, but the risk was worth it.