Alderaan - Love and Intrigue

Leaning against a gracefully plastered pillar in the spaceport Arrivals section, Tethys flicks through the notification on her datapad again. Battlefied Logistics Aide... well, that would have been useful back on Dantooine. Months later and on Alderaan, though? If anyone needs 'Battlefield Logistics' here in the near future, it will mean something has gone very, very sideways.

The notif is odd in other ways, too. The issue date is a year off... in the future? And she is pretty sure the Republic military databases have never mixed up her personal gendered-pronouns like this before. All in all, it's a rather puzzled Jedi who glances up to keep the Arrivals gate in view, a small line appearing between her eyebrows.

There was an eerily familiar combination of servos and metallic clunks that she had not heard since . . . Bankor approaching.

"Knight Carrack, this unit is pleased to see you are still functioning and have all your external limbs intact. Gunnery Sergeant Veeone Veeoh reporting as ordered by Republic Battle Order 345/GHJ7/K-14b."

It saluted, highly polished chromed parts glinting against the perfect new Republic blue paintjob, which highlighted the Technical Sergeant rank stripes it now sported. It was festooned with weaponry that was getting a very worried look from several Organa Customs officials.

"Veeone?" Tethys straightens up quickly, eyes widening in pure surprise. "Now, there's a name I haven't heard in a long time."

With a glance at the concerned customs officers, she closes the remaining distance between herself and her old comrade-in-arms in a few long strides, the swirl of Jedi-ish robes and It's with me body language hopefully going some way to ease their anxiety.

"I'm glad to see you in one piece too, old friend. Very glad." A genuine smile curves her lips.

"But... hm. What exactly is 'Battle Order 345 G-H-...' ah, that is," she shakes her head slightly, "From your end, what did Command tell you to do here? This is Alderaan. It's months since the last military action in this system."

"Current directive is VIP protection detail in contested warzone."

There was a distinct whirring of servos associated with the prototype V-series droid processing difficult 'thoughts'.

"Alderaan is not a contested warzone? Veeone's orders signify it is."

"Well, um... no. It isn't." Tethys gestures around them at the spaceport scene--business travelers, families with children, colorful advertising screens proclaiming the Festival of a Thousand Flowers. If there had ever been any damage to this part of the spaceport from the invasion last year, it's all tidied away and painted over now. "Imperial forces withdrew from Alderaan space after the new treaty. This is officially a secure sector now."

She frowns down at her datapad, long fingers drumming on the screen.

"There could be some more complicated explanation, but I think... Veeone, you and I may be the victims of," Tethys can't resist the slightest of dramatic pauses, "a clerical error."

There is a blurt of very impolite binary.

"This would not happen if they just let the droids run the administrative department without organic interference. I will request new orders immediately, but until they arrive my orders are clear, Knight Carrack. I am to protect Republic VIPs and their interests while on Alderaan."

The droid looked around.

"I require a computer interface port with access to the holonet for situational update and contact with Republic Military Command."

Stars, I guess Veeone's spent some time around Navy droids since Bankor. Those tended to have the most, um, creative vocabulary of any droids Tethys has worked with.

"Plenty of Republic VIPs here." She considers this. "And interests to protect. But, ah... not really your usual style of protection." She can't keep her lips from twitching at the absurdity of the situation.

"Can you use a public terminal? There's one around the corner. If that's no good, we'll head to spaceport admin, or you can use the one in my lodging."

The droid's head tilted in a questioning manner.

"Public terminal? . . . Would suffice for situational update, but does not have sufficient security protocols for contacting Military Command."

Tethys frowns slightly. "I don't know how secured the Festival lodging consoles are either, when you put it that way. Let's ask Port Security, shall we?" A couple of long strides carry her over to the terminal map-holo hovering above a pedestal nearby. "It's not far, I think... yes, two halls over. One Jedi and one active-service war hero should be able to get in the door, right?"

"Alderaan is still part of the Republic, yes? If so Republic Military Personnel have the right to use secure Holonet facilities for emergency orders. I calculate this situation has a 73.13% chance of being considered an emergency order situation by Military Command."

It viewed the map, committing it to its databanks in a few microseconds. You never knew when such maps might become handy.

"It is a Republic world, yes. In spite of some citizens making noise about withdrawing," Tethys adds with an expression of distaste. "I only landed yesterday, so I don't know yet how serious any of that really is."


And thus, one long-striding Human and one very deadly Droid set out to descend upon the unsuspecting Spaceport Security receptionist... who surely has no idea what is about to hit them.

Veeone marched with programmed ease . . . because it was programmed to.

"Withdraw from the glorious Republic? We must not allow that to happen!"

"Alderaan is a democratic member of the Republic. If they chose to withdraw voluntarily, the Republic and the Jedi haven't got a right to stop them," Tethys says, half-shrugging. "Nothing says you can't point out the many way's it's a bad idea, though."

"The devious Sith Empire must not be allowed to triumph. The Republic stands for all that is good and right in the Galaxy."

V1 would fit right in alongside Niall on Republic recruitment posters.

"As usual, you cut to the heart of things, Veeone," she says, the corner of her lips curving up.

Sometimes 'things' are something more abstract than a bunker full of snipers, even.

Speaking of bunkers, Spaceport Security... isn't one. If there's a weapons scanner in the attractively plastered entranceway, it's very discreet. Tethys breezes past anyone in the lobby toward the reception console.

"Good morning. We need to borrow a secure comms station from you for a few minutes," she says with patented Jedi self-assurance.

((I figure we really have no need of DD here, and can just improv this out in whatever way best entertains us? ))

V1 slaps it's extensive string of service, bravery and heroism medals onto its chest and maglocks it in position. For a seven and a half year old it has a lot of medals.

"Military authorisation code is available if required."

It's an irregular request, but then again... that is a lot of medals on that droid. And the tall Human woman is obviously a Jedi. A brief audio-play unfolds between the receptionist and his supervisor, concluding when the former clears his throat and says, "Uh, Master Jedi, Sergeant... Supervising Officer says she can clear a comm station for you, but she wants to know, is this concerning anything she needs to worry about?"

Tethy's glances sideways at Veeone and shrugs. "I don't think so--do you, Sergeant Veeone?"

Unless V1-V0 at loose ends on Alderaan is in itself something to worry about, anyway...

"There is no threat to the spaceport or wider area around it. Actual content of communication is classified to Republic Military Command."

It beeped at the sad state of intergalactic bureaucracy. Always interfering with clean and crisp bunker neutralisations.

That's apparently good enough for the receptionist, who points our heroic duo toward a door on one side of the lobby. "Through there, Kif will show you the right cubicle."

Tethys thanks him politely, and sets off to meet their native guide, a young Human who looks like he might be in Spaceport Security mostly on account of not making the physical cut for the planetary defense force....

Veeone saluted with a clang and moved to follow the human. It managed to loom and be absolutely combat menacing while having all its weapons stowed. Its many weapons.