Lanx
SWRP Writer
- Joined
- Jul 5, 2008
- Messages
- 164
- Reaction score
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Piotr sat comfortably on the deck of a Coruscant Café near the senate chambers, enjoying a well-brewed caff. He leaned back and crossed his legs, taking in the majestic view. The sparkling spires of the senate building rose before him, and nearby 500 Republica stood like a monument attesting to the power and solidity of the Republic government. Lanes of sky traffic crisscrossed above and between the larger buildings, and all together these things were Coruscant, Piotr's home.
"Your check, sir," said a woman's voice directly behind him. He saw a black gloved hand slide a piece of parchment next to his cup.
"Oh, of course," he replied, reaching into the breast pocket of his suit to retrieve a datacard for credit transfer. He thought it a bit strange that his waitress would come and ask him to pay. Her shift must be just getting over, he assumed. When he turned and looked over his shoulder, though, the woman had vanished.
"Excuse me?" Piotr stood and looked around the deck where a few more customers were enjoying meals or cups of caff, but saw now waitress. In a few moments he also determined there were no waitresses, or waiters for that matter, with black gloves. "Now isn't that odd," he muttered to himself, sitting back down. It was then he noticed the parchment again. Picking it up, he saw something that immediately set his mind spinning.
"PGCSEBPDDBETMOTXZEPNWDPMAZYJARUCTCXSNR
Forget the Q's, you're the key. You have the answer."
Piotr got up from his chair rapidly, leaving more than enough credits to pay for his caff and tip. He quickly exited the café and took his speeder back to his office. Someone had slipped him a code.
-----------------
Minutes later he was seated at his desk, locked in thought over this bizarre puzzle. Numbers and letters were swimming through his head, dancing, shouting at him, demanding they be put in their proper place.
"Mr. Javik, sir?"
"Who is it?" he asked, but as he looked up he could see it was his assistant Iella. She looked nice today, her long black hair was half-down. "Oh, I'm sorry Iella. Please come in," he said, forcing himself to ignore the puzzle for a moment. "Have we had any calls?"
"Nothing much, no Republic requests. Just a pair of visitors, but I took care of them. What I was wondering, though was-"
"Wait," Piotr interrupted. "What did the visitors want? We've never had anyone just stop in." His office wasn't in the most public of places... on a lower level in an uninteresting government building near 500 Republica. The office consisted of two rooms, the office he sat in with a lobby / receiving room in front. There were a few other diplomatic service offices nearby, and they all opened into a central indoor courtyard. It was nice, but they Republic probably just wanted to keep their upper level paper pushers from sinking into depression. Piotr wasn't really a paper pusher, but the vagueness of his position kept him from getting a more convenient work station in the senate. Plus the Republic had put him through all of his schooling, so in a sense it owed him nothing.
"I thought it was odd, too. Some human didn't speak huttese and needed help understanding a Quarren," she said, shrugging. "I just entered it into one of your programs and it worked fine."
"That doesn't make any sense," Piotr said, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration.
"I thought the same thing," she said, becoming very somber, "I really didn't see any harm in it!"
Piotr let out a soft laugh, "No it's okay, you didn't do anything wrong. Why don't you forward me the security records, though?"
"You're paranoid, Sir," she said with a giggle, obviously relieved. "No, of course I'll do that. It was so strange, they must have come from a Sabaac game or something, all I had to translate was, 'You have to play fair'. Anyways, I'll get you the video record."
"Play fair?" he asked softly.
"Yeah, that's what he said!" she answered, but Piotr didn't hear it. The numbers on the sheet of paper were beginning to make sense of themselves. No Q's, you're the key... play fair... playfair! Piotr quickly scribbled down a block of letters,
"P I O T R
A B C D E
F G H J K
L M N S U
V W X Y Z"
And the message unscrambled itself...
"FIND DATA CARD IN YOUR LOBY LIVES DEPEND ON YOU"
"Iella," he called through the open office door, "I'm going to need that record now."
"Your check, sir," said a woman's voice directly behind him. He saw a black gloved hand slide a piece of parchment next to his cup.
"Oh, of course," he replied, reaching into the breast pocket of his suit to retrieve a datacard for credit transfer. He thought it a bit strange that his waitress would come and ask him to pay. Her shift must be just getting over, he assumed. When he turned and looked over his shoulder, though, the woman had vanished.
"Excuse me?" Piotr stood and looked around the deck where a few more customers were enjoying meals or cups of caff, but saw now waitress. In a few moments he also determined there were no waitresses, or waiters for that matter, with black gloves. "Now isn't that odd," he muttered to himself, sitting back down. It was then he noticed the parchment again. Picking it up, he saw something that immediately set his mind spinning.
"PGCSEBPDDBETMOTXZEPNWDPMAZYJARUCTCXSNR
Forget the Q's, you're the key. You have the answer."
Piotr got up from his chair rapidly, leaving more than enough credits to pay for his caff and tip. He quickly exited the café and took his speeder back to his office. Someone had slipped him a code.
-----------------
Minutes later he was seated at his desk, locked in thought over this bizarre puzzle. Numbers and letters were swimming through his head, dancing, shouting at him, demanding they be put in their proper place.
"Mr. Javik, sir?"
"Who is it?" he asked, but as he looked up he could see it was his assistant Iella. She looked nice today, her long black hair was half-down. "Oh, I'm sorry Iella. Please come in," he said, forcing himself to ignore the puzzle for a moment. "Have we had any calls?"
"Nothing much, no Republic requests. Just a pair of visitors, but I took care of them. What I was wondering, though was-"
"Wait," Piotr interrupted. "What did the visitors want? We've never had anyone just stop in." His office wasn't in the most public of places... on a lower level in an uninteresting government building near 500 Republica. The office consisted of two rooms, the office he sat in with a lobby / receiving room in front. There were a few other diplomatic service offices nearby, and they all opened into a central indoor courtyard. It was nice, but they Republic probably just wanted to keep their upper level paper pushers from sinking into depression. Piotr wasn't really a paper pusher, but the vagueness of his position kept him from getting a more convenient work station in the senate. Plus the Republic had put him through all of his schooling, so in a sense it owed him nothing.
"I thought it was odd, too. Some human didn't speak huttese and needed help understanding a Quarren," she said, shrugging. "I just entered it into one of your programs and it worked fine."
"That doesn't make any sense," Piotr said, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration.
"I thought the same thing," she said, becoming very somber, "I really didn't see any harm in it!"
Piotr let out a soft laugh, "No it's okay, you didn't do anything wrong. Why don't you forward me the security records, though?"
"You're paranoid, Sir," she said with a giggle, obviously relieved. "No, of course I'll do that. It was so strange, they must have come from a Sabaac game or something, all I had to translate was, 'You have to play fair'. Anyways, I'll get you the video record."
"Play fair?" he asked softly.
"Yeah, that's what he said!" she answered, but Piotr didn't hear it. The numbers on the sheet of paper were beginning to make sense of themselves. No Q's, you're the key... play fair... playfair! Piotr quickly scribbled down a block of letters,
"P I O T R
A B C D E
F G H J K
L M N S U
V W X Y Z"
And the message unscrambled itself...
"FIND DATA CARD IN YOUR LOBY LIVES DEPEND ON YOU"
"Iella," he called through the open office door, "I'm going to need that record now."