2008-06-25 - Rim vs. Republic

Logfile from SW.
Avatar of Crimson:Prison Deck
Here, the large repulsorlifts enter a sealed deck, and heavy blast doors secure the open shafts when they are not in use. This deck opens onto a broad foyer. A pair of thick blast shields stand shoulder-high some ten meters from the repulsorlifts, and slim blaster shafts peer out at all who enter this deck. Between these shields stands a slightly elevated walkway, marked out along the deck with yellow stripes, slashed diagonally with black. Proceeding from the aft, this walkway halts at a check station, where blast gates watched by a pair of guard stations with blast-proof transparisteel guard the way to the fore of this deck, and the dark narrow holding cells beyond.
Above these blast gates, a profusion of holo-cameras and scanning equipment peer ominously down on all who enter the foyer of this deck.
Players:
Pip
Karin
 
 The cell is small, dark, and its interior is made entirely out of dim durasteel. Even the cot where Karin sits is crafted from the cold metal, a thick blanket and a single pillow making it a decent place to sleep - if one does not care for comfort, of course. The lady's hiking gear is slightly crinkled from wear, but she is examining one of her boots with a critical air of inspection. "Need a new one," she murmurs to herself. A glance is cast around, lingering briefly on a box that stands near the other wall. "Pip," the woman whispers, "are you still asleep?"
 A rustle from the box, a scrape of claw on metal, indicating that the creature is very much awake, and not at all happy with its conditions either. White passes by a hole in the durasteel as it moves, shifts, then a large eye takes up the majority of the hole as Pip peeks out at the woman. Its antenna pokes out of a hole, a clawed paw out another. Both paw and antenna wave.
<FONT COLOR=#33CC00>FORCE:</FONT> You experience a thoughtful feeling and receive a vision: A dark box, crammed and unpleasant, from the inside. Small holes provide little light, and even less entertainment.
Telepathic message: Are you well, human friend Karin? We do not find these restraints on our person comfortable, but we are used to such treatment. What primitive, crude methods.
You think of Pip ...
 Karin smiles at the one, visible eye and pushes herself away from the durasteel cot. She lies down, flat on her stomach in front of the box, and rests her chin on the back of her hands in front of her at floor-height."I am doing quite right, my friend." The lady's voice is a low hum in the quiet cell. Her dark eyes peer inside the box. "They were showing me holo-videos, before; cheap Rim campaigning against the Republic. Do you get enough food inside there?"
 The white mass inside the box moves again, a bit of a cluttering, then a small pellet of whatever food stuffs the rodent was given is pushed out onto the floor of the cell, meticulously packed into a small, roundish ball. Pip's red-pupiled eye returns to the hole the pellet left, blinking innocently.
<FONT COLOR=#33CC00>FORCE:</FONT> You experience a thoughtful feeling and receive a vision: A small rodent, in a dark confine, taking pawfulls of gloopy material and rolling it between its paws until it's a solid ball, then putting it aside to dry. Several of those pellets are up against the far wall of the box.
Telepathic message: We do not eat this... but we not not want those primitives to know what we eat. We are taking precautions. But, we are hungry. Have they replaced your restraints, human friend Karin? Those were very filling.
You think of Pip ...
 A low, amused chuckle fills the small room. Karin picks up the pellet, still lieing on the floor, and turns it around. "You are very clever, my friend. They did not notice you had no mouth? Well, I cannot say I blame them, I fell for it, too. You know... it is so easy for us sentients with a mouth to assume that everyone else has one, too. It is a special kind of stupidity, I assume." The lady's expression remains thoughtful as her dark gaze roves around the little room. It lingers on the door and she props herself up on one elbow.
"They removed the restraints. If I held the box close to the door, could you take energy from the lock? Perhaps even disable it?"
 Both fore paws reach out to grasp at the holes, the antenna moves out to wiggle again in the air. To the left, to the right, ramrod straight, then an excited, pink claw points to the door.
<FONT COLOR=#33CC00>FORCE:</FONT> You experience a thoughtful feeling and receive a vision: The metal walls of the cell, then they slowly glow, forms shift just beyond the door, which itself has a faint glow to it. There's a larger, humanoid glowing form inside the room.
Telepathic message: Yes, yes. Not very filling. But, there are sentients outside. We can feel them. Probably more smelly primitives working for that rude human.
You think of Pip ...
 Karin turns on the floor and rises to a crouch, carefully wrapping her arms around Pip's box. The tip of her tongue appears at one corner of her mouth as she lifts it, carrying it to the prison door with utmost care.
"Those must be the Gamorreans. You know, the pig-like creatures? Similar to the one you stopped from shooting on Dantooine. That was very impressive, by the way..." Karin still whispers, perhaps cautious not to catch the guard's attention. At the door she carefully supports the crate's side against the metal. "Perhaps they have some equipment, too, that you can feed on... I wish I could open the box. I tried, but I cannot."
 Inside the box, Pip shifts again, holding tight to the walls of the box as it moves. A pellet spills out onto the floor from a hole near the base of the box. At the door, the creature's long antenna pokes out and gently touches the door. For a long, tense moment, silence, then a soft click.
<FONT COLOR=#33CC00>FORCE:</FONT> You experience a thoughtful feeling and receive a vision: The door is dark now, lifeless, in its own way. But, ahead, a number of moving shapes with that light of energy.
Telepathic message: Too many. Too many for us. The lock was surprisingly filling. Maybe, one, we can feed from, not the rest.
You think of Pip ...
Zamir arrives from the Sick Bay
 In his box, Pip reaches out with one clawed paw to touch at the lock. It's a long reach for it - only a claw can make it, with a wiggle. Inside the box, Pip plops down on its rear end and waits. And digests, rubbing one paw along the fuzzy, white belly contently.
<FONT COLOR=#33CC00>FORCE:</FONT> You experience a thoughtful feeling and receive a vision: A view from the inside of the box again, tiny holes giving little access to the world beyond.
Telepathic message: We can only draw the life force - the power - from the thing. Maybe there are components which require mechanical work. Can you open it, human friend Karin?
You think of Pip ...
 Some of the pig-like guards have been assigned back to the planet. No questions asked, do-as-you-are-told and all that. This time, it's some fresh-looking Rodians and several humans - you might recognize some from before - wielding T74's. They patrol the cells, occasionally check it (having been instructed of the woman's supposed craftiness), feed Pip, check his box and other chores. Zamir steps into the room as the repulsorlift doors open, and he looks to the brig with a weary look.
 While her friend digests Karin slumps down to sit on her haunches, eyes level with the lock. "They took away my tiny set of lockpicks," she whispers Pip-wards. "He changed the Gamorreans for someone more clever. There is little I can do, really. Besides, they check the door ... and they have weapons, we have not. Can you suck their weapons' energy?" She carefully prods at the metal. The lady, apparantly, fails to hear the repulsorlift doors on the other side of /her/ door.
 Pip reaches out with its paw to grab at the holes and pull himself forward, against the box wall. One reaches from the hole to wiggle in the air while pointing at the door.
<FONT COLOR=#33CC00>FORCE:</FONT> You experience an feeling and receive a vision: Again, the many armed forms outside the door glow with life, their weapons, as well. The image fades quickly, back to the room from view of inside Pip's box.
Telepathic message: Yes, we could. But, there are too many of them. Ooh.. that tired us. Give us a moment to rest after feeding.
You think of Pip ...
 "That animal's trying to get out of the cage," Zamir barks to one of the men near the prison cell, "go feed it and put it to sleep. And remember, if he tries to escape, make sure at least its /corpse/ is intact. I know some Gand who like that sort of fluffy animals." the field marshal orders and opens the door himself, stopping when he faces Karin directly. "Good morning, miss Karin. Stunning as always, I see."
 The sound of the door opening makes Karin stand up at a speed. The wary look that she levels on Zamir is replaced by a polite smile at his corteous words. "Thank you, Admiral. I can't complain about the quarters I have been given. But the holo-vids are lacking somewhat, I feel." She takes a step back - for she does, indeed, stand just before the threshold to the hall outside.
 "Lock this door." Zamir commands as the men click the door shut and a loud thud is produced as a side-effect. "I'm sorry, but you need to have a willing mind to understand all of this. You are well-provided for, well fed, and every facility that relates to basic infrastructure in this ship is at your disposal. This is hardly a kidnapping, because by Republic standards, your presence in such cells would be denied by their high command - or you would be executed already. Oh, I should perhaps inform you that Byss was ravaged, my intelligence suspects, by clones."
 
 "Hardly a kidnapping at all," Karin mock-agrees with a dry voice. "It is like a holiday, really. Although... I must say that compared to what I'd expect from a Hutt sympathizer, we have been treated well."The woman looks curiously at Zamir. She seems about to say more when the man's last words makes all colour drain from her face. The lady's easy expression changes for one of true shock and concern. "Surely not Byss," she breathes, seating herself heavily on the durasteel cot. She falls silent a while, staring into empty air, then looks sharply at the other. "What happened to lord Palpatine?"
 "They don't tell that sort of information on the GNN. And they pinned the blame on the Nation. Kind of funny, really, considering yours truly has not been deployed for such an assault and the Lieutenant I mentioned earlier to you was the one supposedly defending the Republic from attacks. He couldn't do it even if it slapped him on the face." Zamir widens his smile to Karin and leans against the door. "How goes that little pet there?"
 
 Karin lets her gaze linger at the man for a thoughtful while. Then she speaks up again in a level, if sad, voice. "So you are telling me the Hutt Nation had nothing to do with it? Well, the Hutts never were much into clones. Perhaps the Black Imperium is behind. And if this Lieutenant is Vegetius, by any chance, I assure you he is quite capable, if... zealous."
She places a protective hand on the metal box at her side. "Pip isn't a pet, Admiral, he is a friend. I think he would like to be let out. Could he? He is just a tiny creature."
 "Capable? We're not discussing his capacity. He is merely unable to deal with situations that require a higher level of awareness. He might be whatever he wants but nevertheless his impetus is his greatest detriments." Zamir states to Karin with an even tone. "I won't let your 'friend' out just yet. You will both be released when it is time. It's either that, or we're feeding him to the Gands."
 
 Zamir's first words draw a frustrated frown on Karin's forehead. She seems about to object when the mention of Gands makes her jump up from the cot, standing in front of Pip's box and facing the other."I'll not let you feed him to the Gand." The lady's voice is angry and clipped. "If it's a question of money, I'm sure I can transfer some credits to you or your Dantooine." She does not move, but her frame is tense and her gaze flicks very thoughtfully at the Admiral's handblaster.
 Pip's paw reaches out and touches the woman's leg, a tiny little brush, then back inside the box, hidden from view.
<FONT COLOR=#33CC00>FORCE:</FONT> You experience a calm feeling and receive a vision: The darkness inside the box is stifling and confining, but beyond it, the soft glow of life.
Telepathic message: Do not worry for us, human friend Karin. We have been in worse. We worry for you.
You think of Pip ...
 "State a price, and I'll release it somewhere safe. The wilds... somewhere. I do like credits, you know." The Admiral of the Claws paces forward, and looks into the woman's eyes. "But this isn't a question of money. This is a question of you learning something from this. Consider this an... intermediary lesson, actually. Understand, please, that I'm merely trying to educate you that the Republic's truths are not neccessarily universal."
 Karin remains standing where she is, tilting her head up to meet the man's look. The lady's own eyes flick between the artificial, red eye and the green one before finally settling somewhere between the two orbs. "The idea of democracy is universal," she states. "And the Republic is built on those ideals. And as for the creature," her voice briefly softens, "I am not one to put a price on my friends. You name your price..." And suddenly, mid-negotiation, she brings the edge of her hands down on Zamir's wrist in an attempt to knock the blaster from his grip.
<FONT COLOR=#FFFF00>COMBAT:</FONT> You lash out at Zamir's arms with your fists!
Type +ABORT to abort your attack.
<FONT COLOR=#FFFF00>COMBAT:</FONT> Zamir parries Karin's attack with his BVR-5X Handblaster.
 As the woman attempts to steal his blaster, Zamir simply dances along, in a fluid movement so unlike an armored man that her grip is neglected by his own. His leg dips into the back of Karin's leg in a sweep as she completes her momentum, in a perhaps practiced combat movement. Maybe this Admiral has more secrets than he'd like to let out.
 
 Trapped in its box, Princess Pipilups can only dash around in frantic attempts to catch what's going on from different angles, from different holes in the durasteel. Finally, a good place to see from, and it presses one large eye against the hole to watch, a paw from another, waving it furiously in the air in the direction of the brawl.
 Karin's legs folds up at the other's sweep, but even as she falls to the ground the lady aims a determined - and booted - kick at Zamir's ankles. One hand supports herself against the cot -- oh no, it turns out to be the edge of Pip's box, which is sent tumbling down from the durasteel dais!
<FONT COLOR=#FFFF00>COMBAT:</FONT> You lash out at Zamir's legs with your fists!
Type +ABORT to abort your attack.
<FONT COLOR=#FFFF00>COMBAT:</FONT> Zamir dodges Karin's attack.
 
 The Admiral sort of hops to the side in order to counter Karin's attack and presses a greave against her shin, effectively pinning her to the ground. His pistol shifts its aim to Pip's box and he grunts.
 With an annoyed hiss of indrawn breath Karin attempts to shift her weight on the ground. But the armour against her shin prevents her movement... and so she quickly settles for remaining where she is, while reaching for the box with her arms. "Don't shoot it!" She demands, out of breath - and perhaps somewhat unfairly, given the situation.
Clank! The box rests quietly on the floor where it fell, small pellets rolling from it, having been tossed from the holes in the process. The rodent inside is eerily still, white fur shivering, antenna quivering.
 "You're beginning to frustrate me. Understand that this is my way to educate you in perspectives wider than what the Republic would allow. Do you think the Quarren, as an enslaved people by those glorified fish are happy outside indoctrination? I'll answer you: no." Zamir steps away from Karin and stares at the box. "But your aggression must have a price."
<FONT COLOR=#33CC00>FORCE:</FONT> You experience a fearful feeling and think of Pip.
 "The relationship between the Quarren and the Mon Cals is complicated." Karin reluctantly agrees, rubbing at her shin with a flat palm. She grimaces at Zamir's last words. "Really, can you blame me for trying to leave! I do not agree with your view on the Republic. And... don't harm my friend." She rises from the floor only to seat herself on the metal crate, glowering at the Admiral. "And the Mon Cals tried to protect the Quarrens from losing a costly war," the lady adds, on an afterthought. "They helped them."
 "The Mon Calamari forced the Quarren into signing a treaty, or they would find themselves exterminated. That is -no- way to treat the other native species of your own planet. I can't say the Hutts haven't done so to extraneous species, because they have, and I understand that. But the Hutts, bottom line, are more straightforward with their agenda than the Republic's leaders will ever be. That is not to say they are not guilty of crimes. They are." Zamir moves to the crate and seizes it, placing it back upon the cot. "I will not hurt this creature, but if you make another attempt at escape, I will."
 A pellet flies from a hole in the box and bounces harmlessly off the man's armor. Pip doesn't much appreciate having a blaster pointed at it, either, it seems. Or being the object of threats. It hits the ground with a splat, and the rodent brings an eye to a hole to verify its success - or lack there of.
 Karin slides off the crate when Zamir takes it, quickly shifting her weight to sit upon the cot once more. She listens to the other speaking and tilts her head an inch to the side. "I will not try to escape again, then," she promises. A look is cast at Pip's little prison. "Are you unhurt in there, Princess?"
"The Quarren attacked the Mon Cals." The lady turns back to the man with a frown. "Who, in turn, took trouble teaching the Quarren ethics and a bit of civilisation! And the Hutts kill people to make orphans for their industry ... how can you think that is right?"
 
 "Civilization? Your concept of civilization is ridiculous. The Quarren had bellicose origins, perhaps, but it was their culture. The Mon Calamari had no right to change that. Maybe harness it, yes, but not outright change a different people, a different -species-. That is absurd, Lady Morrow. Just listen to yourself. Let's say an indigenous race, like your friend's here, became prominent in Coruscant's underground and it attacked any humans it saw. If you had access to their culture, proof that it exists and that they are sentient, would you obligate them into 'assimilating' -yours-?" Zamir points his finger at Karin, his tone fierce and loud. "That is what the Republic does. It forces other nations, other -people- into behaving one way or the other, else they will suffer infractions or infrigement of their sovereignity. That is what happened in Thyferra. President Nonobi's attitude towards that was somewhat correct."
 
Zamir adds, "Your democratic Republic is nothing more than really polished conmen."
 
 Pip's eye moves back and is replaced by a paw. Then, very slowly, it makes the universal symbol for a-okay - thumb goes up, the two other fingers curl into a fist. It hold that just long enough for Lady Morrow to see, then retreats back into its box, probably to produce more pellets.
 "I would not change Pip's species into one like mine." The lady looks defensive and heat rises in her cheeks. She flicks a glance at the thumbs-up sign from the furry rodent and looks relieved. Then she returns her attention to the man. "What happened between the Mon Cals and the Quarren was, from an ethical view, not fortunate. But if it was done to prevent a thousand deaths, then perhaps it was for the best."
Conmen? 
Karin loses her cool. She rises from her cot, and yells at Zamir; hands curled into fists and placed at her sides: "I'm not saying democracy is perfect! But I'm saying it's the best we have. Better than murderous slugs, who steal children from their homes and brainwash them into ruthless soldiers...!"
 "Is it? It's not democracy, and I will not believe you, until it is the people who decide what to do with the Republic. Not Coruscant, not the Senators, not the -nobles-! The people get to choose nothing, what you call democracy is actually a failed oligarchy comprised of double-standards and infringement of rights of others who do not belong to your society. Hypocrisy at its finest, my Lady. /You/ on the other hand, have the power to change that, but you prefer to concern yourself with foreign affairs more so than those at home. There are people setting fire to your house, whilst you set fire to other's! And these people are your own 'family', so to speak. So. Which is it?" Zamir asks of Karin before lifting his free hand upward, to Karin, fist clenched in a very protest-like stance. "The Orphan business is now dying down, thanks to Admiral Tei's decision and willingness to work with other great powers in order to make sure the unnatural clone armies plaguing every world, Rim or not, is exterminated."
 
 Karin lets a hand tug gently at her ponytail, a frustrated motion more than anything else. She frowns again. "So what do you propose... one sentient, one vote? The Galaxy is far too large for that sort of nonsense. No system could ever register it, and it would be far too prone to cheating. And the ghastly Ord Mantell business should not just die down, it should stop. Permanently." The lady crosses her arms, looking at Zamir with a stubborn expression. "If you mean to keep me here until I see your point of view, I'm afraid you'll have me as a house guest for very long, Admiral."
 "Isn't cheating what your Republic is doing now? And no, I propose the dissolution of an unified government body and the construction of an intergalactic alliance. There is a different. Every state needs to be sovereign, and not interdependent. What you call Republic I call an imperialism. And that's what it is. Its purpose has long faded, and now writhes as it becomes rotten from the inside. Your Republic is at its darkest hour, can't you feel?" Zamir asks of Karin, now in a quiet, almost sorrowful tone. He frowns. "It's unfortunate, and at the same time worthy of praise, that you have such stubborn views."
 
Zamir adds, "I am, my Lady, a man born in Coruscant. But that is as much as they would let me know, while in the hospital's recovery wing."
 
 Something that Zamir says makes the lady's gaze turn aside, a brief flicker of uncertainty appearing in her eyes.
Or is it, perhaps, just a trick of the dim light?
When Karin returns her attention to the other her expression is both troubled and curious. "I would not have guessed that you were born in Coruscant," she says, unusually softly. "I wonder what made you turn your back to the Republic so efficiently as you have done. Did you fight for us in the Clone Wars?"
 "No. The only thing they told me is that I suffered an accident. I spent two years. /Two/ years, in a padded wall room so that whatever their secret was would not be let out." Zamir removes his half-mask, and smiles somewhat sorrowful to Karin. "This is what the Republic did to me. I don't understand what happened, or where. I only know that I worked in Sienar on /something/ and I suffered an accident. Anything else than that, I do not recall."
 "Bloody hell." Karin cannot help but grimace at the face that is revealed, her dark gaze fixed on the man's destroyed skin. She continues looking at the scars, as if unable to look away, eyes brimming with distaste and pity even as she carries on: "Whoever did this to you should be brought to justice. But the merchant ships that the Hutts and the Brood prey upon aren't the culprits."
 "There is no such thing as justice when you're in the upper echelons, powerful and industrious. Only leverage." Zamir smiles to Karin. "This is why I might have forgotten. I do not know who this other half was. Only what it is now."
 "Whatever it was, it took away an important bit, obviously." Karin answers Zamir's smile with an easy wink, but there is no sparkle in her eyes. "Can we get back to the deal where I pay you to let my friend go?"
 
 "Nice way to call me insane. I'm merely more open to ideas and recognition of things I do not neccessarily agree with than you. But that comes with breed, I suppose." Zamir replies to Karin and nods his consent. "How about seventy-five thousand?"
 
 "Seventy five thousand it is," Karin tilts her raven head at Zamir. "I will need a computer and access to the Galactic wide bank network in order to transfer the money to you or your organization. And, of course, I will want proof that my friend is really set free, and not just transferred to the cell next door." A smile creases her lips at this thought and she taps a finger lightly against her temple.
 "Very smart. I have already foreseen you could use such means, so this is what we'll do. I have a datapad here, galactic news network, messenger service among several other things are disabled. I made sure of that. The proof, you will receive as soon as possible. You can access the Galactic bank network and this is it. I have men working for me upstairs that can probably tell if you send someone a message." Zamir turns to the prison door and yells, "OPEN THE BRIG! GET THE CRATE OUTSIDE AND PUT IT IN AN ESCAPE POD TO Y'TOUB."
 
<FONT COLOR=#33CC00>FORCE:</FONT> You experience a thoughtful feeling and receive a vision: Brief glimpses of the star systems and planets passed, but then the darkness of the cell.
Telepathic message:No! Friend Karin. You should be careful. But, if he speaks the truth - we find it hard to tell, with his mind - we can look for help. We will find someone!
You think of Pip ...
 "You need to open the crate as well," Karin insists. "Or Pip will be in a no better situation when he gets to Y'Toub!" She reaches out a hand for the datapad, palm open. Then her gaze turns to the crate and the lady smiles fondly at the metal. "Thank you, my friend. You be careful as well, and I am sorry for getting you into this mess in the first place! When you arrive in Spice City you can seek out Chalena in the lower Tier 5 pub. She will help you if you say..." the woman flicks a hesitant look at Zamir, "if you say Shea Sonara sent you."
 
 "Shea Sonara... and Chalena, huh?" Zamir smiles to Karin. "Interesting names." He hands Lady Morrow the datapad and shrugs. "You have five minutes. The crate will be supplied with oxygen."
 "But Pip has to be able to get out once he gets to Nar Shaddaa, or Ardak," Karin protests. "If someone finds him in the crate, he will be at their mercy." She begins tapping her fingers against the datapad with a concentrated expression, the tip of her tongue once more appearing at the side of her mouth.
 As Karin makes her negotiations, Pip again, attempts to reach out with its paws, a sad little, parting attempt at comfort from its box.
Category:June 2008 RP Logs